"Be where, sir?" I gasped, for I made sure that he was joking.
"In St. Petersburg, and nowhere else," replied he, holding the match about a foot away from his cigar—"in St. Petersburg, I'm telling ye. I've a fancy to see the Russians, and there's one of Jack Ames' lot that will take us through. It's an officer of the' Guards he is, and ye'll not forget to pack me yeomanry clothes, though the Queen—God bless her!— has dispensed with my services."
"Then it's certain that you are going, sir?" said I.
"As certain as the moon is round," cried he, "which is a geographical fact, Hildebrand."
What more he would have said I don't know, for he broke off sudden and went to bed,—which was the best place for him,—singing and swaggering like a trooper of the line. I thought at the time that he was telling me some whim of his cups; but when the morning came, he had still head enough to repeat the story and to remember that he had mentioned it.
"You'll not be forgetting that we leave by the Berlin mail to-night," said he. "It's all fixed up that we spend a fortnight in St. Petersburg as the guest of Count Uspensky. I've a wish to see the city, and the arrangement suits me finely. He's a big man there, and has big friends; and he's to have the charge of us. There would be more surprising things than that we should make money there. Ye'll not omit the uniform. It's a poor figure I'd cut in civilian clothes, don't you think?"
