Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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r issued twice a week--wedktesday aktd saturday. l. m. grist & sons, Publishers. j % j'amilji gtuispjcr: J,M the promotion of the .political, Social, Agricultural, and Commercial interests of the ?outh. | TErns^:42j?^ap u^ak^in^ivancb. VOL. 43. YORKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 25, 1897. XO. 08. EXILED T( BY WILLIAM MI Copyright, 1897, by the Woolfall Publishing C Synopsis of Pevious Installments. In order that new readers of The Enquirer may begin with the following installment ol this story, and understand it just the same as though they had read it all from the beginning, we here give a synopsis of that portion of it which has already been published: Chapter I.?Vladimir Saradoff, a Russian being heir to the fortune of his nephew, Maurice Hammond, an American, in case of his nephew's death, conspires to have him sent to Russia in order to get him in his power. II.?Hammond and his friend Philip Danvers arrive at St. Petersburg, and Saradoff lays plans to have them arrested as conspirators against the government. Ill and IV.?Hammond at a review saves the life of Colonel Jaroslav. Proceeding to Moscow, they are arrested and sent to Siberia. On the way the boat on which they travel catches fire, and they, with two other convicts, escape in a skiff. V, VI and VII.? Hammond and Danvers pursue their way with the two other prisoners, who attack an approaching wagon. Hammond and Danvers defend an officer in the wagon. A troop of Cossacks appears and recaptures all the prisoners. The officer tells the Americans that they will probably be shot, but in view of their services to him he will do all he can for them. VIII.? They are sentenced to be shot. CHAPTER IX. the riot at irkutsk. "I have been fortunate," he said in a grave voice. "Grodno wus shot outotAa nt fVio ctrv'Lvirln hnf. a few moments ago, and the Turk will suffer the same fate as soou as lie can be moved to Tomsk, bat your sentence has been commuted, and you will go, instead, to the mines of Kara." "The mines of Kara!" exclaimed Maurice blankly, and for the moment, as his mind reverted to what he had read and heard of that dread place, he felt half sorry that their lives had been spared. Then came a revulsion of feeling, and he thanked the lieutenant warmly for his intercession. Phil, to whom the mines of Kara meant nothing, fairly broke down and was profuse in his gratitude. "I did no more than my duty," said Lieutenant Brosky coldly. "I believed your story and stated my belief to the governor of the province. He was pleased to commute your punishment. Your original sentence, which I promised to ascertain for you, was ten years at the mines. "That has now been increased to 80 years, so you can face the worst. Remember that what I have done for you is in return for your assistanco when those two ruffians attacked me. Here our intercourse ends. It is not likely that we shall meet again." As the lieutenant turned to leave the prison Maurice, seeing his last chance slipping away, sprang forward implor ingly, but the officer motioned him back, and in an instant the door hud closed behind him. "We ought to be thankful that our lives have been saved," said Phil as Maurice threw himself, face downward, on the bed, und presently he asked, "Where are the mines of Kara and what are they?" "Yon will know when we reach there," said Maurice. "They are gold mines that belong to the czar and are nearly 2,000 miles from here. That's all I care to say about them." And in spite of Phil's entreaties Maurice firmly refused to talk any more about the mines of Kara. They spent two days of gloom and hopelessness in the Tomsk prison, and at daybreuk on the third morning they were rudely turned out into the iuclosure, which was half filled with wretched exiles waiting apparently for souio event of importance. The delay was brief. The large gates were thrown open, and between lines of armed soldiers the convicts, answering to their names, which wero called out by an officer with a book in his hand, passed outside, each man receiving at the gate a sum of money equivalent to 10 cents. On this they must subsist two days, as the Russian government allows its exiles but 5 cents a day while on the march. The boys almost forgot their own troubles in the pitiful sights around them, for many of the prisoners were aooompanied by wives and children. The exile party wns speedily made up. The extra clothes and baggage which many of the convicts possessed were piled up in wagons, and while this was going on peddlers and peasant women crowded freely in through the guards with various kinds of food, which was bought up eagerly. At last camo the order to start, and the whole column was quickly in mo tiou. A squad of Cossacks, iu their bandsomo green uniforms, led off and were followed by the disorderly throng of men, women and children marching between three broken lines of soldiers. The infirm and the sick and the very small children came next, riding in telgas?a species of rudo wagon?and u sullen convoy of half a dozen Cossacks, guarding the baggage wagons, with their loads of gray bags, brought up the rear. The boys turned once for a last look at Tomsk, already fust fading on the horizon, and then, with faces pale and stern, they marched away to the eastward, where thousands and thousands march every year?never to return. The period of suffering and misery that began with the diparturo from Tomsk almost defies description. Duj after day they trudged on, living or the scanty food that their meager ah lowance was able to purchase, and sleep ing at night in foul, crowded exile sta tion houses which are built along th< road at intervals of from 13 to 20 miles. Every third day they rested, ant ) Sim; JRRAY GRAYDON. o. The boys suffered viuch from the cMUlng rains. these halts the boys soon learued to regard 'with uncontrollable horror, for during the whole 24 hours they remained shut up in the close, unhealthy station houses. Thus spring passed into summer, and summer turned to autumn, and still the exile party pressed wearily forward, leaving many cf their number at different. nnints nlnnjr the ronte. o There were times when the boys found it difiicult to convince themselves that the past was not all a dream?that they had ever known a brighter, fairer country than this desolate Siberia, and then again there were occasions when the past became all too realistic and vivid, and the remembrance of their hopeless condition sind of Vladimir Saradoff's crime sank into their hearts like heated iron. The boys suffered much from the chilling rains and cold winds that came with the early autumn, and many a weary mile they marched with dripping garments dapping about their aching limbs. It was on a crisp, cool September evening that Irkutsk was reached, and the sun was setting lightly on the white walls and golden domes of this powerful capital of eastern Siberia when the boys crossed the river on a pendulum ferryboat and entered the streets of the city. The party now numbered scarcely 100. Many had died on the way, and many had been left at different points on the route. Those remaining were either political prisoners or belonged to the most desperate grade of criminals. To reach the prison the party were compelled to cross a section of the city, and the boys were amazed to see the broad, well paved streets, the imposing buildings, the shop windows filled with articles of luxury, and the well dressed people who occupied the sidewalka "It seems like a dream," observed Maurice to his companion. "I cannot believe that we are in Siberia. How like an American city this is, Phil, and how long, it seems since we left home," he added sadly. Phil made no reply. He raised his sleeve and brushed away the tears which were rolling down his pale cneeas. The mouruful procession moved on rapidly, attracting but little attention from the people. The central portion of the city was soon left behind, and they entered a more squalid neighborhood, with dark, narrow streets a? gloomy, dingy houses. The sidewalks now appeared to be more crowded, and from the attitude of tbo people it seemed as though something unusual were going on. Multitudes of peasants in red silk and black velvet trousers surged to and fro, singing and shouting, either from excitement or intoxication, probably the latter, for on every street comer was a peddler's stall, where the fiery vodka was being sold by the glass or the bottle. "It's a holiday of some kind," whispered Maurice; "the shops are all closed and the people are dressed up in their best." At that moment the exiles were halted in a small square, surrounded by unusually squalid houses, and instantly an eager and curious crowd had hemmed them in. They were pressed against the soldiers, who tried in vain to drive them back on the sidewalk. A commotion was now heard in front and, mingled with the shouts of the people, the boys could distinguish rudernusio and a hollow beating of drums. An officer galloped along the lino, shouting fiercely: "Drive the scoundrels from the square. Force your way through with swords and bayonets!" The Cossacks made an immediate attempt to obey this order, for the column pushed forward a few yards, only to come to u dead halt again between tbo surging crowds. The boys were near the front of the column, and, looking over the heads of their companions, they could seeagoldi en image mounted on a pole and strange looking banners jammed in among the people. "This is a religious festival of i some kind," said Maurice, "and those stupid Cossacks have blundered right into it on their way to the prison." i From the crowding and pushing gor ing on in front it looked as though the i mob were disputing the passage of tho prisoners. The outcry was loud and violent, and tho commands of the; ollicers with diffi) culty reached the ears of their men. A close watch was kept on tho eoul victs, and tho soldiers threatened with sword and bayonet the excited mob who pressed against them. Amid all this tnmnlt the convicts maintained the same snllen demeanor, some gazing stupidly on the ground, others carelessly scanning the faces of the people. Directly behind Maurice and Phil stood a middle aged man, with a light beard and mustache. He had accompanied the party from Tomsk, and bis name was Paul Platoff. This was all that the boys knew concerning him, for, although hie refined appearance had tempted thein on more than one occasion to make his acquaintance, the recollecnrnTtinno ovnorionpo nkcHVfl checked them in the act. Turning half round, Maurice saw that this PlatofF was gazing into the crowd, with an expression of intense excitement on his features. Had he recognized some friend or acquaintance among the people, or was he meditating a sudden escape, basing his hopes on the hostile attitude displayed toward the soldiers and the murmurs of pity for the fettered convicts? As these thoughts passed through Maurice's mind the command to march was thundered out by the officer, and the head of the line began to straggle through the now sundered ranks of the procession. As the men in front of him began to move Maurice turned for another look at Platoff, and on that very instant the convict sprang from the line, wrenched the gun from the grasp of the nearest soldier and, swinging it savagely round his head, plunged in among the people, who made no effort to prevent his escape. Quick as was this daring deed, it did not escape the guards, and half a dozen Cossacks, from as muny different points along the line, raised their rifles and fired at Platoff's retreating form, ignoring the people entirely in their eagerness to arrest tho fugitive. Tho scene that ensued terrified the boys. Cries of pain followed the rifle fire, and as the smoke partially cleured four motionless bodies were seen lying in the dusty road. Paul Platoff was not among them. He bad vunished in the crowd. The eight of theee innocent victims changed the hostile feelings of the people to v furor of madness. A Russian mob is always merciless and cruel, always regards a soldier or a gendarme as a born enemy, and now, with shouts of rage that were caught up and re-echoed from every corner of the square, the riotous peasnutry closed in on the little group of exiles and soldiers. For an instant swords and bayonets flashed, and the foremost of the rioters perished by cold steel, but those behind pressed on more furiously than ever. The situation became critical in the extreme. The troOps,"fl'tv in numbeT as it was, were scattered along the lines, and, being unable to concentrate, were wholly at the mercy of the mob. The tumult was deafening, and with the savage and frenzied yells of the rabble mingled the occasional crack of a rifle or a clash of steel. Up in front the advance guard of Cossacks were making a brave 6taud, and the rear guard, too, were apparently holding their own, but along the straggled line the soldiers were going down one by one, and missiles of every description were falling thickly among the panic stricken convicts. Something round and black, with a smoking fuse, fell at Maurice's feet "Buck! Back!" he cried, frantically clutching Phil by the shoulder, and us they turned to flee a terrific explosion shook the ground and a red flash briefly lit up the scene of carnage. CHAPTER X. STORMING THE WRONG CITADEL. The explosion of the bomb?for such it undoubtedly was?threw Maurice with stunning force to the ground, and when he staggered to his feet, dizzy and blinded, he believed at first that he was badly injured. When the smoke and dust cleared Dar tially, he forgot his own pain in the misery around him. Two or three of the convicts lay on the ground groaning piteously. The bomb hud done dreadful execution, and not among those for whom it was intended, for the guards bad escaped the flying fragments of iron and glass. Phil lay among the injured, his face and hair stained with blood. Maurice bent over him in alarm. "Phil, Phil," he cried, "speak to mo. Are you hurt?" Then, as no answer came, he seized the wounded boy in his arms and staggered backward with his burden. The excitement had now reached the highest pitch. The mob, inflamed still more by the unintentional injury done the exiles, pressed forward against the few remuining soldiers. The whole square was jammed with the furious combatants. The Cossacks fought well, using bayonet and saber with deadly effect, but ugainst such despcrato numbers their bravery wus of no avail, and many of them fell under the volley of cobblestones, clubs, brinks and what other missiles the rioters could lay their hands on. The rapid approach of darkness made the scene still more dreadful, and cs the prisouers realized their situation and saw the discomfiture of their guards many of them broke from the lines and vauisneu 1U inu rruwu, The intense excitement gave to Mauriee almost superhuman strength, and Phil's unconscious body seemed uu easy burden as he bore it tenderly into tho center of tho lines, where the chance of safety from the flying missiles was best. There he paused irrisolutely for a moment. The sullen roar of tho mob rang in his ears, an occasional red flash lit up the gleon, and the terror stricken wretches around him were beginning to flee in all directions. No attempt was made to check them. The few remaining soldiers were busily engaged in lighting for their lives. As Maurice still hesitated whether to remain where he was or to trust to tho tender nicr< ies of the mob the situation changed with appalling suddenness. A terrific report echoed over the square? a report that was instantly succeeded by cries of fright and pain?and the riotous mob, quick to recognize the crash of artillery, fell into a hopeless panio and fled in confusion. Toward the four approaches of the square they surged, shouting, trampling each other underfoot, and still the vengeful cannon sent its iron messengers tearing among them. Retaining his presence of mind and clinging to Phil with all his might, Maurice was swept into the thick of the struggle. Jostled, squeezed and bruised, he was carried, without any effort of his own, foot by foot, across the square. Troino ho otnmhlpH And CAVA himsftlf nn for lost, but the press lifted him to his feet agaiu, and he held on to his burden with renewed hope. Above the roar of the people he heard the whistle of rifle balls, for it was evident that re-enforcements had arrived and were firing recklessly into the mob. The troops seemed bent on slaughtering as many of the rioters as possible, for the shooting became louder and more frequent, and men began to drop in all directions. Twice Maurice shuddered when he felt something soft underfoot With every nerve strained to its utmost he held his own against the pressure, expecting every moment to be riddled with bullets. Suddenly his foot tripped on something hard, and, taking a step upward, he felt the smooth pavement under him. At the same instaut there was a stinging pain in his left arm, and his grasp on Phil relaxed. He knew he could go no farther with his burden, and yet to remain where he was meant certain death. To his right a gloomy buildiDg loomed indistinctly out of the darkness. If he could only cross the sidewalk and reach that, he might find a place of refuge till the danger was past Summoning all his strength and still grasping Phil with his wounded arm, in spite of the pain, he began to force his way at right angles through the mob. It was almost a hopeless task, but he stuck to it, bravely pushing the people right and left with desperate strength. The air was clouded with powder smoke, and the guns still pounded unceasingly. Fierce as was the rush of the mob, Maurice fought his way clear across the sidewalk, and staggering feebly up a flight of stone steps dropped in a dead faint on the summit. The ping of bullets brought him to his senses, and he sat up to see Phil lying motionless at his side and a man in convict garb leaning heavily against the door. tt_ x j \m HO luriiou WJ lutj uvya, auu mauuuo recognized Paul Platcff. The fugitive's face was white with pain, and his right leg was bound with a crimson bandage torn from his overcoat "We are safo for the present" be said in Russian, pointing to the high wooden canopy over the top of the steps. 4 4Keep low, though, for a stray bullet might strike you." Maurice nodded gratefully, and immediately stretched himself at full length on the topmost step. A glanoe upward showed him a high stone building. The windows were tightly closed with iron shutters, and the door was of heavy wood with brass trimmings. Then he turned his attention to the street, and at once forgot Phil, Platoff and his wounded arm in the soene beneath him. The house where he had taken refuge was at the entrance to one of the exits from the square. By good fortune the majority of the rioters bad turned in this direction. It had so happened that the troops approached the square from all three of the other entrances, leaving this one alone unguarded, and now the narrow passageway was fast choking up with the fleeing fugitives, while a horde of cavalry rode at their heels, sabering the wretched creatures as fast as they could use their weapons. The roar of artillery and the crack of rifles had almost ceased, but the shrieks of the wounded and the frightened cries of the others made an indescribable tumult. With a sad heart Maurice watched the mass withdrawing foot by foot through the narrow street, while the - * v _ _ V i. L-v tramp oi noois ana me glare 01 wreuee came closer and closer and closer. Platoff's commanding voice recalled him to bis senses. "Come," be said, touching Maurice on tbe shoulder. "You are a brave lad. I watched yonr heroic struggle through the crowd. Let us try to escape. If we can gain access to this house till the square be cleared, I have friends who will care for us. I am wounded, or I would seek safety there." And ho pointed down at the struggling crowd. Most of this speech Maurice understood, for he had by this time acquired a fair knowledge of the language. He sat up gladly aud turned toPlatoff for instructions. Tho Russian, howover, was bending over Phil and wiping the blood from tho boy's pallid face. "Your friend is not dead," he said. "A fragment of bomb has grazed his head. He will be all right shortly." Reaohing within his blouse, he drew out a tiny flask aud put it to Phil's lipa. The effect was wonderful. The wounded lad opened his eyes und mado an effort to sit up. Platoff propped him against the side of the doorway aud then turned to Maurice. "Look," he said, "the Cossacks are coming nearer. Their torches will soon light up our hiding place. If we would esenpo, there is not a moment to lose." Half rising on his Uninjured log, he rattled fiercely at the door and hammored the heavy panel with his fists. "The cowards," he cried angrily, as no response canio trom witnin. -xney are afraid to open it. But wo havo still another chance. Foreo will conquer where persuasion fails." He dragged himself to the edge of the steps. The wooden canopy over the door was supported by heavy pillars, and seizing one of these Platoff, with a desperate effort, wrenched it loose. Handing it to Maurice, ho tore a second ono from its socket for his own use, and turning to the door ho dealt it a sturdy stroke with the heavy weapon. "Strike, lad. strike 1" he shouted to ! Munrice. "Do jour bestl" And under tho double ruin of blows the door begau to creak and tremble. Carried away by tbe possibilities of escape which Platoff offered, Maurice once more forgot all prudence, and with nerves wrought to the highest tension he banged away at the resisting barrier with furious en ergy. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the square all ablaze with torches and alive with mounted Cossacks and swarms of infantry. nninlrlv JL 11(3 ILlDUllCUliiiU uuu uvcu 4Uiv.ay qnclled, aud the rear of the mob was fast struggling out through the narrow street, leaviug countless dead behind them. "Harder, harder 1" commanded Platoff. "A few more strokes will do it, and thou safety." As he spoke a squad of Cossacks clattered down tho street, striking right and left at the remnant of the fugitives, and aloifg the sidewalk advanced a turbulent swarm of troops, seeking here and there for seme object on which to vent their passion. A torch gleam flashed under the canopy, revealing the fugitives, and the maddened soldiers made a rush for the steps, firing recklessly into the air as they ran. In desperation Platoff and Maurice redoubled their efforts. Crash, crash, rang the heavy pillars, and crack, crack, went the door on its binges. The bullets pinged sharply round the daring refugees, and just as the foremost of the soldiers swept up tho steps, with gleaming bayonets, the lock gave way before the fusillade and the door swung inward. "Inside, for your life I" shouted Platoff, aud seizing Phil in his powerful arms he fairly threw him into the dark hallway and pushed Maurice after him. Springing back to the edgo of the steps, he snatched the two heavy pillars, and swinging them around his head mowed down the advancing soldiers like ripened wheat. With a spring he regained the hallway and slammed the door shut in the very face of a furious storm of bullets. "I have your companion," ho shouted to Maurice. "Follow me quick. They will be here in an instant." He led the way in tho darkness, and Maurice followed closely along what seemed to be a vast corridor. Outside were beard furious cries and rifle shots and a clatter of feet. Then the door burst open, revealing n blaze of torches and a multitude of fierce faces. "Down flat!" shouted Platoff. "They will fire over our heads." As they dropped to-the floor, trembling in expectation of a volley of bullets, a door at the farther end of the corridor opened, and a file of soldiers appeared, led by a young officer with drawn sword. A lamp was burning in the room behind them. For a moment a dire catastrophe impended. Tho dommand to fire was on th^ officer's lips, and the soldiers at the outer door already held their hands on the triggers. Caught between two fires, the fugitives devoutly hugged tho floor, wishing themselves anywhere but in their present predicament. The thrillJ , \ 4If we would escape, there is not a moment to lose." ing pause was broken by a Cossack officer, who forced liis way up the steps and into the hall. "Don't 6boot!" he cried to the men. "What are you doing hero? What does this mean, attackiug his majesty's storehouse?" ' Before a reply could be made the officer at the farther end of the hall cried, "In the name of the czar, lay down ! your arms and surrender, or I fire!" "Hold 021! Don't shoot!" exclaimed the Cossack. " What is tho meaning of this, you ruffians?" And he turned angrily to tho men. "It is not we who have broken in here," half a dozen burst out. "It is some of tho rioters. They have killed our men, and wo demand vengeance." The young officer, who had been under the impression that the men at the door were part of the mob attacking the building, now advanced down the corridor with his file of soldiers, and, seeing that the game was up, Platoff rose to his feet, crying loudly: "Don't shoot, don't shoot! We aro exiles; we do not belong to the mob!" The soldiers at the door commenced to clamor for their lives, but tho Cossack officer drove them back from tho entrance, and the other troops advanced down the corridor and seized Platoff and his companions. CHAPTER XI. TIIE MIXES OF KARA. They were hurried through tho corridor into a rear apartment, and tho door was quickly closed. Tho danger was past, however, and tho Cossack officer, after driving his men from the house, returned to claim his prisoners. "Ye6," ho said, "theso are my men. This is Platoff, tho fellow who caused all the disturbanco." And ho glared threateningly at tho Russian, who was sitting on tho floor nursing his wounded leg. Then, turning to tho officer in com ? * .? i -*u; L- - J j?J. (IT mana 01 cno ouuuiug, n? uuuuu; x shall have to leave these fellows in your charge overnight. I fear many of the convicts have escuped, and wo must lose no time in retaking them. We have taught jour Irkutsk mob a lesson they won^t forget, and we are by no means done with them yet." And swearing violently ho hurried away. "Where are we?" asked Platoff of the -officer who had arrested them. "What house is this?" " You have assaulted and broken into the czar's storehouse of exile supplies," was the stern reply, "and I am the officer in command of it." This announcement was a great surprise to Platoff. The fact that he had stormed single handed a building held by the soldiers seemed to impress him from a ludicrous standpoint, for he *^0 hnra with n. rnmiflfll IUXUCU bunuxu VUV wvju IT a CM M rexpression on bis face. Maurioe was trembling in fear of the consequences of this rash act, and Phil was loaning against the wall, very pale and dazed. A surgeon presently arrived, who dressed the bullet wound in Platoff's leg, and then the prisoners were led away and placed in separate cells, large, dreary apartments half filled with huge wooden chests. Maurice spent a wretched night He tossed from side to side trying in vain to sleep, and listening to the monotonous tread of the sentry. At daybreak a file of mounted Cossacks came after the prisoners. Platoff, on account of his wounded leg, was mounted on horse- I back, and the boys, heavily ironed, were placed between two columns of soldiers. As they passed through the equare Maurice could with difficulty believe that it was the scene of last night's struggle. The place was almost deserted. A few i people stood on the street corners, and 1 the shutters of the somber gray houses were tightly closed, probably to hide the broken windows. The forwarding prison was soon reached. It was a large, dilapidated I * 1 J- nf fho UUUUJUg UU IliD UUUUlllD yjM. ~.v_, . The boys were separated from Platoff as soon as they entered the conrfcyard 1 and taken away to a large cell, where they were locked np together. Here they spent nearly two weeks of trying snspense, expecting any moment to be led ont and shot fo *heir participation in the riot. The gnards visited them daily, bnt ; it was impossible to obtain any information from them, and Maurice's en- ( treaties to the commanding "officer of the prison were unheeded. Then one i cold, raw morning they were harried throagh the conrtyard in the early < dawn. Outside in the dreary street an j exile party was forming, and before it : was fully iight the long procession was ' winding over the frozen ground toward i the distant mines of Kara. That last stage of the journey was more dreadful than anything that had preceded it Winter set in with arctic severity, and j the wretched exiles toiled through snow and ice, shivering in their scanty gar- < ments, weak for want of nourishing food, and sleeping at night in road stations where every form of disease brooded in the vitiated air. i Many died, and some were left in wayside hospitals, but Maurice and Phil fortunately escaped serious illness, though they grew more emaciated day i by day. One slight consolation alleviated their misery. Paul Platoff journeyed at their side each day, and the strange acquaintance that began on the terrible night of the riot ripened into a deep and lasting friendship. The famous revolutionist, for such he was, possessed many traits whioh the boys admired. He was kind hearted and sympathetic, all ha ranriilv halieved CUIU, UiUiU VUUM ? w the tale of crime and sorrow that they poured into his willing ear. Consolation, however, he could not give them. He explained the iniquities and the corruption of Russian justice with a vividness that made his hearers shudder, and he showed them how utterly hopeless it would be to attack Vladimir i Saradoff's intrenched position, even with abundant proofs of the dreadful crime. Of himself Platoff spoke little. He had been neither a terrorist nor an extremist, he said, but had merely labored in behalf of social reforms. On the flimsiest of evidence he was convicted and sentenced to Siberia for ten years. He had been educated at the Moscow i university and was an educated and scholarly man. These and many other topics he dis- i cussed with the boys at every opportunity on their long march, and in this way both Maurice and Phil acquired a fluent knowledge of the Russian language that permitted them to converse freely. Platoff told them much about the mines of Kara, its rules and regula- i tions. "We are all three political prison- i ers," he said, "and we shall be treated as such. For some months we shall be kept in close confinement in the prison. At the expiration of that time, if we behave ourselves in accordance with the rules, we will be permitted to Join the free command and live outside the prison in cabins, subject, of course, to constant police supervision." "But how about the mines?" asked Maurice. "Will we not be compelled to ] work in them?" I "No," replied Platoff; "only the or i dinary criminals do that. Politicals | notror Inhnr in t;hp mines " "And when once wo are allowed to join this freo command and live outside the prison what nro our chances of escape?" continued Maurice. Platoff shrugged his shoulders. "Wo won't discuss that," he said. "Many escapo every year, some striking westward, others down the valley of the Amur toward the Pacifio, but all aro eventually recaptured and are made to pa^ dearly for their brief period of liberty.' $et if a chance offered j I think I would take it. Time will tell | whether I will be compelled to serve out my sentence at tho mines of Kara." , "How far from the mines is the Pa- , oiflo ocean?" inquired Phil. "Less than 1,000 miles," was Platoff's answer. "The Amur river leads right to Vladivostok, the Russian seaport." "And onco at Vladivostok what j chanco of liberty would there be?" ask- . ed Maurice enjjerly. ' 'In the harbor," said Platoff, ' 'there are constantly English, French, German, Spanish and American vessels? and Russian corvets," he added, with a grim smile. The boys scarcely heard the last words. In imagination they saw a noble vessel riding at anchor, with the dear old stars and stripes waving over her deck. "March lively, now, do you hear!" cried a Cossack soldier harshly, and ccith f-p.ir dimmnd prns t.hn hnva nniolr ened their steps, while Platoff trudged stolidly forward, buried in his own thoughts. One thiDg they bad overlooked. In the time that had elapsed since the riot at Irkutsk and their assault on the czar's storehouse they bad come to believe that no further punishment would be inflicted upon them. Even Platoff, who should have known better, was lulled into a false security. Everything must have an end, and so this apparently interminable sourness, this toiling over desolate Siberian wastes and frozen rivers, was finished at last, and one dreary afternoon in the month of January the mines of Kara burst upon the heartsick exiles, and presently the command to halt ran up and down the line. In the thickly falling snow little could be seen?the dim outline of gloomy houses, groups of exiles moving to and fro and squads of armed Cossacks in all directions. For two hours or more the newly arrived party were kept standing in ranks until their limbs were frost bitten and the snow was heavy on their heads and shoulders. It was dark when the little column was ordered forward again. 2\ UI1C1 LLiuruij uiuu^uu buc&u iv n low, gloomy log building, and presently the prieon doors were closed behind them, and the long march was ended. The gold mines of Kara are the private property of his imperial majesty the czar. They consist of a series of open gold placers, located along the banks of the river Kara, a narrow and rapid mountain stream. Through this Kara valley lies a scattered chain of prisone, mines and convict settlements. At the lower diggings centers the administration of the whole settlement There resides the governor of the prisons, and there, in barracks, dwells a military force sufficient to quell any insurrection that may arise. Closely connected with the lower diggings lies middle Kara, where the gloomy prison of the working convict force is located. There, in company with the ordinary and vicious criminals, Maurice and his companions had been placed, though the significance of the fact did not once occur to them. The interior of the convict prison was gloomy and wretched beyond description. The floor and the walls were covered with the accumulated dirt of years, noTFrtin TuinHntro ndmittpd throilffh their dusty panes a meager supply of light, and the atmosphere was vile and stifling. Long, slanting platforms of bare, nnplaned boards served for sleeping purposes. A few benches were scattered about, but not half enough to accommodate the inmates of the prison. Inside the doorway tho newly arrived exiles, not more than dO in number, were baited, and an officer, with a paper in his hand, called out the namea one by one and checked them off as they were responded to. The commandant of the prison, tall, bearded officer, with a harsh faoe, stood by his side, closely watching the proceedings. When the last name had been oalled, the officer rolled up the paper and handed it to the commandant, saying: "There now, Captain Daroman, my duty is done, and I will leave these fellows under your authority. Take good care of them and don't give them too rich food or they will all get dyspepsia. " The officer laughed at his own weak witticism and passed out of the door, which one of the Cossacks held open for him. The weary exiles made a motion to press forward into the room, but Captain Daroman waved them back with bis hand. Then in a hoarse voice he began to Bpeak briefly, going over the prison rules and reciting at length the severe punishment in store for any one daring enough to break them. Maurice watobed him closely and read in the lines of that cold, stern face the evidence of a pitiless and malignant disposition. Wretched indeed would existence be In that prison under the will of Captain Daroman. TT - -----J 1 Qt.rl no ho fnrnnH lit L't'UCCU a0 100U) aim uo uu umiuvv* away Paul Platoff stepped quickly forward. "Captain Daromau," he said respectfully, "I am a political prisoner, and so also are these two men," designating Maurice and Phil. "I should like to know why we have been brought here instead of to the political prison at the lower diggings?" TO BE CONTINUED. The Precentor and His "V/hn*sle." When choirs of singers wero established in Scotland and attempts made to get the congregations to sing, it was accessary that a decided pitch should be jiven to them to start on. To this end pitch pipes were brought into the singsrs' gallery. Wooden pipes were also used, and then metal tuning forks. A canny Scotchman, who abhorred the thought of all musical instruments anywhere?as some among us do still? managed to have one fling at the pitch pipe. The pitch had been given, but was too high, and before the first verse was 3udcd the choir hud to cease singing. Onr Scotchman stood up and pointed bis long finger to the leader, saying in broad accents of scorn: "Ah, Johnny Smith, now ye can have a chance to blaw yer braw whussle again."?Pearson's Weekly. Polite. The acme of politeness was reached by a mining superintendent who posted a placard reading, "Please do not tumble down the shaft."?Melbourne Weekly Times.