“I say, old fellow, we are very hungry, and want to get back to our inn to luncheon,” cried Fred, imitating the action of eating.
A bright idea seemed to have seized the ishvoshtstick, and, whipping on his horse, he drove rapidly onward. Harry thought that he had fully comprehended them. He pulled up, however, very soon before a door, over which were painted pieces of meat and sausages, and rolls, and bottles, and glasses. Evidently it was an eating-house, but the lads would not avail themselves of its accommodation, for two reasons—they did not know what to ask for, and they had no Russian money in their pockets; they therefore shook their heads, and signed to the driver to go on. The man evidently thought them very unreasonable and hard to please, but obeyed. It was soon clear to them that they were getting to the outskirts of the city, and they were about trying to make the man turn back when they saw three figures approaching, whom by their rolling walk and dress they recognised even at a distance as English seamen. When the men drew near, the lads were delighted to find that one was their shipmate, old Tom.
He hailed them with a cheerful voice, and told them that, having met two young friends belonging to a ship at Cronstadt, he had got leave for them to accompany him to see Saint Petersburg.
“But I say, Tom, can you tell us where we are?” said Fred.
“That’s just what we were going to ask you,” replied old Tom. “We’ve got out of our reckoning somehow, and we know no more where we are than if we had got into the Pacific without a chart or compass.”
“What is to be done?” exclaimed Fred; “this stupid fellow does not understand a word we say, and though we have told him to drive back to our hotel he won’t go.”
For a long time all hands consulted together. One proposed one thing, one the other. By this time two or three other ishvoshtsticks had stopped with their vehicles near the strangers, but could no more than the first comprehend where they wanted to go.
“If we could but get back to the large square with the big statue in it of Peter on horseback on a rock, we could find our way to the inn easily enough,” said Fred.
Old Tom thought a moment. “What, the chap who is holding out his hand?” he asked.
“The same,” answered Fred.