"Think you it will be going as far as Moscow ?" "I think it will," replied his companion.

"But not as far as Kazan, eh ?" "No, not as far as Kazan." With that the conversation ended.

Presently, as the britchka was approaching the inn, it was met by a young man in a pair of very short, very tight breeches of white dimity, a quasi-fashionable frockcoat, and a dickey fastened with a pistol-shaped bronze tie-pin.

The young man turned his head as he passed the britchka and eyed it attentively; after which he clapped his hand to his cap (which was in danger of being removed by the wind) and resumed his way.

On the vehicle reaching the inn door, its occupant found standing there to welcome him the polevoi, or waiter, of the establishment--an individual of such nimble and brisk movement that even to distinguish the character of his face was impossible.