"Now, McShane, you must take care of the money, and pay the driver," said O'Donahue, pulling out several pieces of thick paper, some coloured red, some blue, and others of a dirty white. "Is this money?" said McShane, with astonishment. "Yes, that's roubles." "Roubles, are they? I wonder what they'd call them in Ireland; they look like soup-tickets." "Never mind. And now, McShane, there are two words which the consul has told me to make use of: one is _Scoro_, and when you say that, it means `_Go fast_,' and you hold up a small bit of money at the same time." "_Scoro_! well, that's a word I sha'n't forget." "But, then, there's another, which is _Scorae_." "And what may be the English of that?" "Why, that means `_Go faster_,' and with that you hold up a larger piece of money." "Why, then, it's no use remembering _Scoro_ at all, for _Scorae_ will do much better; so we need not burden ourselves with the first at all. Suppose we try the effect of that last word upon our bear-skin friend who is driving!" McShane held up a rouble, and called out to the driver--"_Scorae_!" The fellow turned his head, smiled, and lashed his horses until they were at the full speed, and then looked back at them for approval. "By the powers, that's no fool of a word! it will take us all the way to Saint Petersburg as fast as we wish." "We do not sleep on the road, but travel night and day," said O'Donahue, "for there is no place worth sleeping at." "And the 'ating, O'Donahue?" "We must get that by signs, for we have no other means." On that point they soon found they had no difficulty; and thus they proceeded, without speaking a word of the language, day and night, until they arrived at the capital. At the entrance their passports were demanded, and the officer at the guard-house came out and told them that a Cossack would accompany them. A Cossack, with a spear as long as a fir-tree, and a beard not quite so long, then took them in charge, and trotted before the carriage, the driver following him at a slow pace. "An't we prisoners?" inquired McShane. "I don't know, but it looks very like it," replied O'Donahue. This, however, was not the case. The carriage drove to a splendid street called the Neffsky Perspective, and as soon as it stopped at the entrance of an hotel, the Cossack, after speaking to the landlord, who came out, took his departure. A journey of four hundred miles, day and night, is no joke: our travellers fell fast asleep in their spacious apartment, and it was not till the next day that they found themselves clean and comfortable, Joey being dressed in a rich livery, as a sort of page, and McShane doing duty as valet when others were present, and when sitting alone with O'Donahue, taking his fair share of the bottle.