Imagine our consternation! Two officials entered the carriage, tall Russians in full uniform, and seized everything--shawls, books, gloves, bags; and then, looking around very carefully, espied W's poor little ragged handkerchief, and seized that, too, as a contraband article! We looked at one another, and said nothing.

The tall Russian said something to us; we looked at each other and sat still.

The tall Russians looked at one another, and there was almost an official smile between them.
"Then one turned to me, and said, very distinctly, 'Passy-port.' 'Oh,' I said, 'the passports are all right; where are they ?' and we produced from our pockets the passports prepared at Washington, with the official seal, and we delivered them with a sort of air as if we had said, 'You'll find that they do things all right at Washington.' "The tall Russians got out, and I was about to breathe freely, when they returned, and said something else--not a word did I understand; they exchanged a look of amusement, and W.and I, one of amazement; then one of them made signs to us to get out.

The sign was unmistakable, and we got out, and followed them into an immense room, where were tables all around covered with luggage, and about a hundred travellers standing by; and our books, shawls, gloves, etc., were thrown in a heap upon one of these tables, and we awoke to the disagreeable consciousness that we were in a custom-house, and only two out of a hundred travellers, and that we did not understand one word of Russian.
"But, of course, it could be only a few minutes of delay, and if German and French failed, there is always left the language of signs, and all would be right.
"After, perhaps, half an hour, two or three officials approached us, and, holding the passports, began to talk to us.

How did they know that those two passports belonged to us?
Out of two hundred persons, how could they at once see that the woman whose age was given at more than half a century, and the lad whose age was given at less than a score of years, were the two fatigued and weary travellers who stood guarding a small heap of gloves, books, handkerchiefs, and shawls?
Two of the officials held up the passports to us, pointed to the blank page, shook their heads ominously; the third took the passports, put them into his vest pocket, buttoned up his coat, and motioned to us to follow him.
"We followed; he opened the door of an ordinary carriage, waved his hand for us to get in, jumped in himself, and we found we were started back.
We could not cross the line between Germany and Russia.
"We meekly asked where we were to go, and were relieved when we found that we went back only to the nearest town, but that the passports must be sent to Konigsberg, sixty miles away, to be endorsed by the Russian ambassador--it might take some days.