How sweet the pine woods smelt in the soft, delicious air of spring after these noisome holes at which a well-conditioned toad would turn up his nose! There was more to be done yet, for the place seemed to be a perfect colony of Holiness. At a little distance there dwelt an old monk, who after ten years spent in one of those hideous cells (ten years! it makes one shudder to think of it!) had reached such a pinnacle of piety that he was now accredited by the wondering mujiks with the power of performing miracles. He was not a very old man, as we were told, but so broken down with infirmity, bred rather of privations than of years, that he could hardly raise himself on his couch to receive us. Strikingly handsome, and of rare distinction, with long grizzly hair and beard, he was the ideal of St. Jerome. He was not unwilling to talk; but his mind was wandering, his speech incoherent, and he seemed relieved when I bade him farewell. I was afraid that if I offered any little gift to so saintly a personage he would be affronted, so on leaving I put a trifle in the hand of the attendant who kept the pretty little cottage. He begged me to go back and lay it on the hermit’s table. He was lying back apparently exhausted, but at the sight of the silver he revived, and gave every sign of pleasure and gratitude. Close by is one of those austere monasteries into which no female may enter; but we had seen enough, so we drove back to the Lavra, there to await the train which should carry us back to Moscow. By this time a good many of the pilgrims who were merrymaking among the booths outside the walls were very drunk indeed. They had washed down their piety with vodka, and when the effects of that should have passed off, would be ready once more to face the world, the flesh, and the devil, with that added reputation for holiness which is the privilege of the Hadji in every land. It had been a full and an interesting day, to the pleasure of which our good little monk Vaccian had contributed not a little; but I could have wished that when I said good-bye, leaving with him the wherewithal to buy a few little comforts, he had not in the profusion of his gratitude insisted on kissing as well as blessing me, for indeed his person was not kept with the same scrupulous cleanliness as his cell. The blessing was good; the kissing less so; but it had to be endured, so I tried not to make a wry face over it. The next day was the last of my delightful stay at Moscow. Dreamily I wandered alone through the streets, a purposeless vagabond, and rather mournful, for I would fain have remained much longer. I carefully eschewed sightseeing, for I was anxious to fix on my mind what I had already seen, and that could best be achieved by gathering a general impression of the peculiar features of the city.