res.

On a gray wet morning in early April we set out for the frontier. This
was the real beginning of our journey, and all my faculties of
observation were alert. I took note of everything,--the weather, the
trains, the bustle of railroad stations, our fellow passengers, and
the family mood at every stage of our progress.

The bags and bundles which composed our travelling outfit were much
more bulky than valuable. A trifling sum of money, the steamer ticket,
and the foreign passport were the magic agents by means of which we
hoped to span the five thousand miles of earth and water between us
and my father. The passport was supposed to pass us over the frontier
without any trouble, but on account of the prevalence of cholera in
some parts of the country, the poorer sort of travellers, such as
emigrants, were subjected, at this time, to more than ordinary
supervision and regulation.

At Versbolovo, the last station on the Russian side, we met the first
of our troubles. A German physician and several gendarmes boarded the
train and put us through a searching examination as to our health,
destination, and financial resources. As a result of the inquisition
we were informed that we would not be allowed to cross the frontier
unless we exchanged our third-class steamer ticket for second-class,
which would require two hundred rubles more than we possessed. Our
passport was taken from us, and we were to be turned back on our
journey.

My letter describes the situation:--

We were homeless, houseless, and friendless in a strange place.
We had hardly money enough to last us through the voyage for
which we had hoped and waited for three long years. We had
suffered much that the reunion we longed for might come about;
we had prepared ourselves to suffer more in order to bring it
about, and had parted with those we loved, with places that were
dear to us in spite of what we passed through in them, never
again to see them, as we were convinced--all for the same dear
end. With strong hopes and high spirits that hid the sad
parting, we had started on our long journey. And now we were
checked so unexpectedly but surely, the blow coming from where
we little expected it, being, as we believed, safe in that
quarter. When my mother had recovered enough to speak, she began
to argue with the gendarme, telling him our story and begging
him to be kind. The children were frighte