Vainly, however, did I ransack my memory for the narrative of any traveller who had beheld and described this lake.  The red hand-book, beloved of tourists, did not even deign to notice its existence.  The more I meditated on the subject, the more I became convinced that here was an untrodden corner of the world, lying within easy reach of a great capital, yet unknown to the eyes of conventional sight-seers.  The name of Valaam suggested that of Barlaam, in Thessaly, likewise a Greek monastery; and though I had never heard of Sergius and Herrmann, the fact of their choosing such a spot was the beginning of a curious interest in their history.  The very act of poring over a map excites the imagination:  I fell into conjectures about the scenery, vegetation, and inhabitants, and thus, by the time P. arrived, was conscious of a violent desire to make the cruise with him.  To our care was confided an American youth, whom I shall call R.,—­we three being, as we afterwards discovered, the first of our countrymen to visit the northern portion of the lake.

The next morning, although it was cloudy and raw, R. and I rose betimes, and were jolted on a droshky through the long streets to the Valamo’s landing-place.  We found a handsome English-built steamer, with tonnage and power enough for the heaviest squalls, and an after-cabin so comfortable that all our anticipations of the primitive modes of travel were banished at once.  As men not ashamed of our health, we had decided to omit the sheets and pillow-cases, and let the tooth-brush answer as an evidence of our high civilization; but the broad divans and velvet cushions of the cabin brought us back to luxury in spite of ourselves.  The captain, smoothly shaven and robust, as befitted his station,—­English in all but his eyes, which were thoroughly Russian,—­gave us a cordial welcome in passable French.  P. drove up presently, and the crowd on the floating pier rapidly increased, as the moment of departure approached.  Our fellow-pilgrims were mostly peasants and deck—­passengers:  two or three officers, and a score of the bourgeois, were divided, according to their means, between the first and second cabins.  There were symptoms of crowding, and we hastened to put in preemption-claims for the bench on the port—­side, distributing our travelling sacks and pouches along it, as a guard against squatters.  The magic promise of na chai (something to buy tea with) further inspired the waiters with a peculiar regard for our interest, so that, leaving our important possessions in their care, we went on deck to witness the departure.