From Kieff Paul proceeded the next morning, accompanied by his faithful Baxter, who held in true British contempt the "houtlandish Russians," and grumbled far more than he was wont as he stowed into the _droskie_ such necessities as a week's absence required. But Paul's eagerness proved infectious, and before the sun had arisen they were far on their way. It seemed a bit unconventional to Paul's English mind to appear at a lady's house without an invitation--even warning of his coming. But there was nothing for it--it was the only course that offered. Those living in Russian country-houses, he knew, were used to entertaining such travellers as came their way unbidden. In sparsely settled districts, where there were not even wretched inns for shelter, it was a custom that had come about quite naturally. Paul had never been in that part of Russia before, and it was with more than passing interest that he observed the scenes around him. At first he could not understand the passion which he knew Mademoiselle Vseslavitch felt for her own country, for near Kieff the land was sterile--the scenery somewhat uneventful. But as the leagues put themselves between him and the town the aspect of the landscape changed. It was early Summer or late Spring then, you remember, and after some hours Paul found himself driven through luxuriant vegetation. As his eye traversed the great billows of the grassy sea he saw that one might easily become lost in the verdure. And yet what glorious reward awaited the bold adventurer! Somewhere, beyond this emerald ocean, waited the lady he sought. At mid-day they stopped before a peasant's hut, in the doorway of which a _moujik_ stood, wrapped in sheepskin and with long and shaggy hair and beard. "Good-day, brother; how goes it?" asked Paul, for he knew a little of the language. "Good-day, little father; thank God, it goes well with me," the man answered. "What is your pleasure? How can I serve you?" and his face unbent with a welcoming smile. "A little food, brother, if you will," Paul replied, "for we have come many leagues." The _moujik_ made sign for Paul and his men to enter, and soon at a rude table they were eating black bread and drinking _kvass_. Fresh from the _cafes_ of Paris, Paul delighted in this primitive simplicity. The transition from the boulevards to the _steppe_ was most refreshing. When after a short rest they were ready to start on again, Paul would have the man accept money for their entertainment. But the peasant waved the coin away. "To take payment for the bread and salt which a passing stranger consumes in thy dwelling is a great sin," he said. "I am happy to have served thee." CHAPTER XIX