The next morning our travellers were reminded that they were not in a free country, in which a man may come and go as he lists without let or hindrance, but that certain very stringent regulations respecting passports must be conformed to before they could attempt to do anything else. Most condescending gentlemen, “commissionaires” they called themselves, undertook for certain considerations to get the work done for them; but Cousin Giles declined their services.
“I have no doubt that we shall be able to get through the business ourselves perfectly well, and we shall see something of the way the Russians manage these affairs,” said he.
He intended to visit the mercantile house on whom he had a letter of credit, and he had also several letters of introduction which he wished to deliver as soon as possible. To his bankers, accordingly, they first drove, and they had no difficulty in finding the house. The merchant who acted in that capacity was very kind, and gave them all the information they could desire as to what they should do about their passports; he also wrote down for them a list of the names of the houses at which they had arranged to call. Their first duty was to visit the Alien Office, to take out their permission to reside or travel in Russia. It is in the south-eastern part of the city. The gentleman who presides over it goes by the name of Baron Verysoft among the English, from the peculiar suavity of his manners. Mounting a flight of stairs, they found the Baron at one end of a handsome room, more like a drawing-room than an office, with a number of persons seated round it, all waiting to undergo the ordeal of his friendly inquiries. Nearly all civilised nations were there represented,—English, Germans, French, and Spaniards. Among them they recognised some of their fellow-passengers. The simple, round, good-natured face of one of them they were glad to see. His name was Mr Tobias Evergreen. He was very civil to the lads on board, and seemed to take a great interest in them. Cousin Giles said he did not think he was quite the man to benefit by a journey in Russia; but one thing was certain, he was not likely to make the police very suspicious about his movements. Besides the strangers, there were two or three clerks in uniform, whose sharp, piercing eyes kept glancing round on the visitors, and narrowly scrutinising any fresh arrivals. They seemed to have little else to do beyond this, but to mend their pens, and to make occasional notes in some huge books before them. A number of people had to go up to the table of the Baron, and to reply to his questions; so our friends were compelled to exercise their patience till their turn came. Mr Evergreen spoke a few sentences, which he said was French. Cousin Giles also knew a little of that language, but Fred was able to understand it, and to speak it tolerably well. At last Mr Evergreen’s turn came, and they followed him up to the table.
The Baron, in the blandest and most courteous way, inquired Mr Evergreen’s name and country; whether he was married or single; what was his object in travelling; the name of his banker; how long he purposed remaining in the country,—to all of which questions he gave answers which seemed perfectly satisfactory to the Baron; and he then volunteered several particulars of his private history, at which the Baron bowed and smiled, as the lads observed he had bowed and smiled at several persons before, while he went on making notes in his book. Perhaps he did not understand a word Mr Evergreen said, or, what is very probable, he was not listening to what did not concern him, but was habitually too polite to let this be discovered. Mr Evergreen had then to sign his name several times in a book, and then the Baron bowed very politely, handed him his passport to take it to the passport office and various police offices, to be signed and countersigned again and again. Mr Evergreen on this bowed to the Baron, and the Baron bowed again. Mr Evergreen would have continued bowing before so great and benignant a personage had not the Baron summoned our friends to approach, Mr Evergreen meantime waiting for them.
They quickly got through the business, and the Baron gave a bow to Cousin Giles, which, if not so profound as those he gave to Mr Evergreen, was much more cordial, and seemed to say: “We understand each other; you are a man I can trust.”
When they got outside the door, Mr Evergreen was loud in his praises of Baron Verysoft.
“Nice, charming man!” he exclaimed; “so civil, so kind to me. Don’t you think I ought to ask him to dinner, now? It would be but a proper attention in return for his civility.”
“He would have to fulfil a very large number of dinner engagements if all thought as you do; but I suspect few people are so grateful for his attentions,” answered Cousin Giles.
It was some time before Mr Evergreen could be persuaded to give up his idea.
“The credit of our country is at stake,” said he. “Well, well, I suppose I must do as you advise, and let the Baron form his own conclusions of us.”