He did justice to the meal, which was more than could be said of his neighbor at table, who, having, in his character of "old believer" of the sect of Raskalniks, made the vow of abstinence, rejected the potatoes in front of him, and carefully refrained from putting sugar in his tea.
His supper finished, Michael Strogoff, instead of going up to his bedroom, again strolled out into the town.

But, although the long twilight yet lingered, the crowd was already dispersing, the streets were gradually becoming empty, and at length everyone retired to his dwelling.
Why did not Michael Strogoff go quietly to bed, as would have seemed more reasonable after a long railway journey?
Was he thinking of the young Livonian girl who had been his traveling companion?
Having nothing better to do, he WAS thinking of her.

Did he fear that, lost in this busy city, she might be exposed to insult?
He feared so, and with good reason.

Did he hope to meet her, and, if need were, to afford her protection?
No.

To meet would be difficult.