Exiled to Siberia. A novel

Front matter

6d.l A STORY OF RUSSIAN TYRANNY. [Complete By WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON. Copyrl-hid [All rights reserved, London: ALDINE PUBLISHING COMPANY, LTD., 1, 2, & 3, Crown Court, Chancery Lane, W.C, and 10, Red Lion Court, Fleet Street, E.C. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY. sS€rpq!p3Mf * Companion Novelette to Vy Queen" Libcwy. BE.UTIFULLY ILLUSTRATKP, PRICE ORE Ymi C0NTA1 fllbolesome and Thrilling Stories 0* the "Romantic Phases of Life, y r *-*-T-rr-r- Our r?adf i ■■'■ e fe - I . oe befoi i. RECREATION AND ENJOYMENT in the world of Hctiou. jbtuinorl Ir-om ali ' Boakselli jy Boofastali-; or from The __dsme - rig ■•■- EXILED TO SIBERIA Jl n WILLIAM MUEEAY GRAYDON. COPYRIGHT. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ___&onbon : ALDINE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Ltd., 10, RED LION COURT, F.BET STREET, AND 1, 2, AND 3, CROWN COURT, CHANCERY LANE, W.C. CONTENTS.

OHAFT-- tt-OS I. A Rehaii__b__ -nt.p.VsSt. j , 5 II. AcBOSS THE -BONTIEE . , 10 III. A_B_3s_D . .16 IV. On to_ Sibebia , , 22 V. Tar* Bubntng Babo. . , .28 VI. A M_M>__o.s Ambush , , 33 VII. Reoaptubed , . .38 VIII. CONDEMNED , , .43 IX. Ths Riot at Ip.k0tb_ . , .48 X. Stobming the Wbono Citadel . . 53 XI. The Mines of Kaba . . .58 XII. A Dabimo Act . . .63 XIII. Loba Melikoff , . .68 XIV. A Stolen Intebview . . 74 XV. Against Great Odds . , .79 XVI. A Dabing Exploit . , 83 XVII. Pbee . . . .88 XVIII. Off at Last . . .93 CONTENTS. CHAPTER rAO- XIX. A Dispute with Wolves , . 98 XX. A Good Samabitan . . 104 • XXI. A Midnight Alabm . . .109 XXII. A Daring Deed . . .114 XXTII. Pursuit and Escape . . . 119 XXIV. Besieged by a Tigeb . . 13- XXV. A Strange Meeting . . . 129 XXVI. Trfachf.b. . . .185 XXVII. An Old Fbdjnd . . .110 XXVIII. Shifting Scenes . . 146 XXIX, Conclusion . . .160 •~-J6-G*!!_t^^£_— 3

Chapter I

A remarkable interview. TT was November in Paris. L_ The proverbial gloominess, however, was entirely lacking in the estimation of Colonel Hercules Hoffman, as he looked down oa the gay and crowded boulevard from his apartment in the Hotel Bristol. Colonel Hoffman was a New Yorker, a man of wealth, position, and prominence, and in spite of the seductive attractions of the French capital, he was congratulating himself on the completion of the business that had taken him abroad and the prospect of a speedy return home. In Paris Colonel Hoffman was an atom, a mite ; in New York he was — somebody. He turned from the window and strolled softly across the room. A faint smile hovered on his features as a huge mirror brought him face to face with his own reflection. What he saw was a tall, finely-formed man, with a pleasing face, becomingly adorned with a light moustache and English side whiskers.

As the colonel turned again to the window, a sharp rat-tat-tat echoed on the panels of the door, and a servant entered with a card on a silver salver. " A gentleman for monsieur ; he wait3 below." Colonel Hoffman raised the card with his thumb and forefinger, and carelessly read the inscription. "VLADIMIR SARADOFF, Nevskoi Prospekt, St. Petersburg." A dusky pallor passed swiftly over his ruddy features, and the card trembled in his fingers. " Show tho gentleman up," he said briefly, and then muttered under his breath: "Vladimir Saradoff, of all men I What ill wind brings him here to-day P' Warned by approaching footsteps, he hastily composed his features. A moment later the door was thrown open, and Vladimir Saradoff appeared in person. The Russian was a typical representative of his race.

Huge of stature, yet graceful in every movement, his patrician bearing and aristocratic features awoke Colonel Hoffman's deepest admiration. His hair was coal-black, and his moustache and beard were trimmed and pointed in French fashion. A huge cloak, richly trimmed with fur, was thrown loosely over nis shoulders, and he held a cap of tho same material in bis hand. He glanced sharply at the colonel under his gold eyeglass. "Colonel Hoffman, of New York, I believe," Le said, in perfect English, and then the two gentlemen shook hands. The Russian tossed aside his coat and cap, aud took the chair that his host handed him. Colonel Hoffman seated himself opposite, and then ensued a brief, embarrassing silence. An attentive observer would have promptly concluded that the intervi.-w about to take place would be no friendly one.

The Russian's features were stern, and bis eyes were fixed on the American with an intensity of gaze that made Colonel Hoffman ill at ease. He shuffled to and fro in his chair, glanced from one part of the room to the other, and at last in desperation drew out a cigar, and lighting it began to smoke furiously. A faint smile flitted across Vladimir Saradoffs features. " Pardon my intrusion," he said, abruptly ; " by mere chance I be came aware of your presence in Paris, and have thus spared myself the fatigues of a voyage across the Atlantic, I presume I am not it REMARKABLE INTERVIEW. 7 mistaken. You are the guardian of my — my nephew, Maurics Ham mond, the son of my dead sister ?" Colonel Hoffman inclined his head. " Yes, I am." " Where is the boy now P" asked the Russian. "Travelling in the Western States ot America with a college mpta."

" When does he come of ageP" " In a little more than two years. He will be nineteen in De cember." Vladimir Saradoff leaned forward in his chair, " By my sister's will," he said, slowly, " all her property was left to her husband, in trust for their only child Maurice. In case the buy died unmarried, the whole of the property reverted to me. Am I right P " " Yes ; precisely right." "Now," continued the Russian, in soft tones, "on the death of Frederick Hammond ten years ago, you were appointed guardian of the boy. May I ask what is the extent of the property entrusted to your care ?" Behind the curling cigar-smoke Colonel Hoffman paled visibly. The Russian was watching him closely. "In rough figures," he said, with assumed carelessness, " the estate would possibly amount to two hundred thousand dollars."

"Very good," replied Vladimir Saradoff. " Your memory is not bad. I have here," he continued, pulling a small note-book from his inner pocket, "a copy of the inventory which you filed as guardian ; the estate consists of negotiable bonds and stocks to the amount c ' two hundred and ten thousand dollars; in Russian money, fo_ hundred thousand rubles. " Now, Monsieur Hoffman," he added, with a sudden change of voio , "what did you do with the malachite box of jewels ?" Had a bombshell exploded in the apartment that instant it could not have produced a more startling effect upon Colonel Hoffman. Trembling in every limb, he sank back in his chair. The Russian looked on calmly. " Sit still," he added, sharply, as the colonel made a feeble effort to rise, " and don't attempt to deny your guilt. It is useless.

I am in possession of all the facts. I knew of the existence of those jewels and of my sister's intention to leave them to her son, I procured a BEST A. 8 copy of your inventory on the death of Frederick Hammond. The jewels were not included. The rest was simple. Ten years ago you were a man of moderate circumstances. To-day, enriched by those stolen jewels, you are a man of wealth and renown. Relying on the fact that the boy knew nothing of them, you hoped to escape deteotion." Colonel Hoffman rose and staggered tc the table. " Spare me," he whispered — " spare me ! I will make restitution — I will " " Sit down," commanded the Russian. " 1 know all, even where the stones were disposed of, and what became of the malachite box. They were old family jewels, and they netted you the sum of nearly two hundred thousand rublos.

I possess all the proofs of your guilt." Colonel Hoffman threw himself in his chair, and buried his face in his hands. " Yes," continued the Russian, in the same cutting tones, " I hold in my hands your reputation, which I am told stands high in your American city : I can consign you to a felon's cell." He paused impressively, and then added : " But I have concluded to take no action. Your secret is safe with me." Colonel Hoffman rose to his feet in surprise. " Do you mean it ?" he cried ; " can it be possible ?" " Be seated," cdded the Russian, and the colonel obeyed. For a moment or two, Vladimir Saradoff surveyed his victim with an inscrutablo expression. When he spoke again, his voice was unnaturally harsh. " I will sparft you," he said — " on oae condition. In what light does ung Hammond regard me — hiB uncle ?" • Unfavourably, I am sorry to say," stammered the colonel, with an jrt.

" You must be aware " •' Yes," interrupted the Russian, " of course,he believes that I treated ■is mother cruelly. His father taught him that. There was a time when I would gladly have given a hundred thousand rubles to lay my hands on Frederick Hammond. From the day that Anna Saradoff left Russia with that vile, scheming American, she ceased to be a sister of mine." With eyes flashing he waved his hand, studded with diamonds, before the colonel's countenance. Then his anger suddenly passed off, and his face assumed a crafty expression. "Monsieur Hammond," he said, abruptly, "do you know I have A REMARKABLE INTERVIEW. 9 taken a fancy to that young nephew of mine; I did not fan give my sister, it is true, but I still think of her tenderly, and perhaps this boy resembles her. At all events, I should like to see him.

I would have him visit me. Now, this is what you must do : Give him to under stand that I am not the savage he has been taught to believe me. Tell him that you have seen me, that 1 spoke tenderly of his mother. of his father, that I am lonely amid the grandeur of my Russian home, and that I want him for his mother's sake to come to St. Petersburg. Do you understand ?" Vladimir Saradoff leaned forward in his chair, and stared coolly in the face of the American. Colonel Hoffman breathed hard and fast. " Yes," said he, " I understand," and the double meaning of his reply was obvious to the Russian. Their eyes met, each conscious that the innermost secret of his soul stood revealpd to the gaze of .be other. " Suppose I refuse ?" remarked the colonel, finally. " Do so at your peril," said the other ; " I will pursue yon to the very limits of the law.

I will hunt you to a felon's cell." 4. period of silence followed, Colonel Hoffman rose and walked to the window. The Russian drew a cigarette-case from his pocket and began to smoke, confident of his victory. Fearful indeed must have been the colonel's emotions as he stood looking vacantly down on the crowded bouievard. His crime had found him out. Two alternatives confronted him, each equally terrible at first contemplation. On the one side was long imprisonment, with loss of fortune. position, reputation, everything. On the other was absolute immunity from punishment, a continued enjoyment of his ill-gotten wealth, without fear of detection ; but, to secure these benefits, he must consent to be the passive actor in a crime so dreadful that he dared not frame it in words, for Vladimir Saradoffs demand admitted no misconstruction.

Ten minutes passed in silence ; and then Colonel Hoffman moved back to his chair. Every spark of colour had fled from his face, and in its stead was only an ashen pallor. "I am at your mercy," he groaned. "I must consent to your infamous proposition. You still refuse to allow me to make resti tution ?" "Absolutely," replied Vladimir Saradoff; "you know my terms You know also what you are expected to do. You will have no difficulty. Suggest to the lad that he take a Continental tour before settling down. Lot him start early in the spring, and see that he comes to St. Petersburg. You have my address. Keep me posted by cablegram. 1 will attend to the rest. " I intended sailing for America next week, but I saw your name in Galignani, and thus spared myself the trouble. And now, Monsieur Hoffman, I shall bid you au revoir.

It pleases me to have made your acquaintance. We shall meet again, and should you ever come to St. Petersburg, you may be sure of a hearty welcome." Smiling pleasantly, the Russian flung his coat over his arm and picked up his cap. Slightly touching the colonel's cold, irresponsive hand, he bowed low in the doorway, and was gone. Ten days later the New York papers announced that Colonel Hercules Hoffman, the well-known broker and financier, had returned from a short trip abroad.

Chapter II

, across the frontier. ON a certain March morning of the year following theevonts related in the preceding chapter two young Americans left the office of the Russian Consul-General at Berlin, and an hour later were speeding as fast as steam could carry them towards the distant frontier of the Russian Empire. Maurice Hammond and Philip Danvers were the names registered on their passports, and while they are hastening towards St. Peters burg, enthusiastic and delighted at the prospect of soon seeing this frozen capital of the North, we will take the opportunity of briefly acquainting the reader with the circumstances necessary to an under standing of the strange and startling drama upon which the curtain is even now rising. Twenty years before Frederick Hammond, a young American, an attache of the United States Legation at St. Petersburg, met and fell ACROSS THE FRONTIER. 11 in love with Anna Saradoff, a young Russian girl of wealth and position.

Such marriages are uncommon, but when Frederick Hammond returned to New York he took with him a Russian bride. Anna SaradoflTs only relative was her brother Vladimir, who, having other views for his sister, conceived a most intense hatred of this scheming American, as he chose to call him. Ho never forgave his sister, and professed from that time to regard her as one dead. Mrs. Hammond, in turn, well content with her husband's love, cut off all connection with her native land. Her Russian property was converted into American securities, and, without a shadow of regret for the brilliance and magnificence she had voluntarily abandoned, she entered upon the quieter occupations of her new life. Five years later she died, leaving the one child, Maurice, at that time four years of age. Six yearlater Frederick Hammond followed his wife, but in the meantime, embittered by her loss, he taught his son to detest his Russian uncle, whose cruel treatment had probably hastened his sister's death.

Frederick Hammond had few intimate friends. To one of these, Colonel Hercules Hoffman, he entrusted the care of his son and his son's fortune. Colonel Hoffman was at that time a man of honesty and integrity —honest, because as yet he had not been tempted. That temptation came later, in the form of the malachite box of jewels; and how Colonel Hoffman resisted a base temptation.we have already seen. Maurice Hammond can be described in a few words. He had inherited the ardent temperament of his mother, his father's intellect and good looks. At nineteen he was tall, athletic, blond-haired, and ruddy-cheeked His life had been passed at preparatory schools and colleges, while in the vacations he usually travelled — for Colonel Hoffman was un married ; and, moreover, a coolness, fostered probably by instinct, existed between guardian and ward.

When Colonel Hoffman returned from that trip abroad Maurice was travelling in the West with his intimate friend and college chum, Philip Danvers. For several mouths Colonel Hoffman was the most wretched man in New York. That diplomatic interview at the Hotel Bristol, which has been described word for word, possessed a sinister meaning that he could not fail to interpret. He never dared admit to himself that his suspicions were correct, but constantly before his mental vision hung that clause in the forgiving Anna Hammond's will : " In case my son Maurice die unmarried, the estate shall revert to my brother, Vladimir Saradoff, of St. Petersburg." The first sin ofttimes paves a smooth pathway for the second. What was the welfare of his ward compared to his own interests — his fortune, his position, his reputation ?

In January Maurice Hammond came East with his friend, and himself proposed a six months' Continental tour. The two boys having finished college, what was more natural than that they should wish to see the world ? Colonel Hoffman gladly acquiesced. With infinite finesse, he pictured Uncle Vladimir as sorrowful, repentant, auxiouB to see his nephew for his sister's sake. He cabled to St. Petersburg. Three weeks later a letter came to Maurice Hammond — a warm invitation to visit the Russian capital before the approach of summer made it unpleasant. The tempting prospects that the letter held out proved irresistible. The two boys sailed from New York late in February, and con tenting themselves with a brief stay in London and Paris, travelled by easy stages across the Continent. Vladimir Saradoff, at the time this story opens, had reached the age of forty-five years.

The last member of an old and renowned Russian family, his brilliant birth, his political influence, and above all the favour of the Czar, gave him a prestige at Court and in St. Petersburg society that was surpassed by few. His education, acquired partly at home> partly in German universities, was lacking in nothing, and he possessed a fluent knowledge of English language and customs, the result of a diplomatic term of service at the Russian Legation in London. In disposition he was crafty and revengeful. His sister's marriage had been a severe shook to his pride. He was absent in the Caucasus at the time it occurred ; when he returned she had already left Russia, and the vengeance which he :edon the daring American was beyond his reach. The events ACROSS THE FRONTIER. 13 of the past twenty years — the death of his sister and her husband, and the fortune left to their child — had ODly added fuel to the flame of his wrath.

To-day he hated Maurice Hammond as implacably as he had hated Frederick Hammond twenty years before. Let us add one more fact. Vladimir Saradoff had been all his life addicted to that especially Russian vice — gablming. He was supposed to be wealthy. He owned a palace on the Nevskoi Prospekt, a country seat in the North. His expenses were enormous, but his income was reported to be fabulous. The truth was not even suspected, Slowly but surely Vladimir Saradoff's wealth had been slipping away over the gaming tables. A crisis was at hand. He realised that he must acquire a large sum of money, or lose all that he held most dear — bis prestige at Court, his posit'on in society, and his ancestral heritage. He con centrated his thoughts on two objects — tho attainment of a long deferred vengeance, and the acquisition of the badly-needed wealth.

At the vast frontier station of Wirballen, which they reached at, midnight, cold and hungry, the boys obtained their first view of Russian life. Passports and baggage were overhauled, and then they were turned into the dreary waiting-room with many other passengers. There was little time for scrutiny or observation. The Russian train rattled into the station, and almost before they knew it, their passports, properly stamped, had been pressed into their hands, the train was rattling noisily on into the night. They were speeding over Russian soil now. Before them stretched the dominions of the Czar, an empire that reached thousands and thousauds of miles across Siberian wastes and deserts to the far-away Pacific coast. Hour after hour the train rushed through the gloomy snow-clad country, stopping at intervals at huge barn-like stations ; and at last, late on the following evening, they knev that the end of the journey was near.

"I wonder what sort of a reception this aristocratic uncle of yours will give me, Maurice ?" said Phil Danvers, as he pulled a cap over Ids curly black hair, and unfolded his big fur-trimmed coat, preparatory to putting it on. " Don't you think it was rather a cheeky performance to invite a guest on your own responsibility P" " Don't talk nonsense, Phil," replied his companion. "He will be only too glad to receive a friend of mine. He had plenty of notice. I wrote to him from London, and then, you know, we cabled him from Berlin yesterday morning." " Petersburg I" shouts the smartly-uniformed conductor, and in an instant all is bustle and commotion as the train rolls into the vast station. Maurice draws a long breath as he hurries from the car. This is his mother's native city — the lovely, delicate woman whom he remembered so faintly.

A tall man, in a heavy cloak and astrakhan cap, suddenly confronts him. " Monsieur Hammond ?" he says, inquiringly, in plain English. Maurice nods his head, not knowing whether to hold out his hand or not. The next word reassures him. " The carriage waits," says the man, with a servile bow, and taking the boys' luggage, he motions them to follow him through the crowd. A huge sleigh is waiting. The boys and their strange guide occupy the spacious seat, and pull the rugs closely around them. The driver perched in front seizes the lines, and presently they are gliding through the streets of St. Petersburg. A light fall of snow is coming down, and in the lamp-light the houses, the people, and the vehicles are seen aB through a yellow fog. It seems a cheerless reception to the two young travellers.

Not a word is spoken during the half-hour's ride. The grim-visaged man with the astrakhan-nap sits between them. At length the sleigh halts before a huge palatial building. Their guide leads them up a broad flight of steps, massive doors are flung open, revealing a soft light within, and they are ushered into a spacious apartment. Maurice has barely time to observe the rich furniture, the tapestries, the paintings, and the rugs, when a tall, fine looking gentleman in evening dress comes quickly forward. " My dear nephew !" he exclaims, as he takes him by the hand " Yes, your mother's face— her very features. But how did you endure the long journey ? You must be terribly fatigued." He extends a warm welcome to Phil, and presently Maurice con- ACROSS THE FRONTIER. 15 eludes that he was utterly mistaken in his previous estimate of Vladimir Saradoff.

They dined informally in a large apartment that was a marvel of luxury with its gilded decorations, and then Vladimir Saradoff led the way back to the library. " My dear Maurice," he began, abruptly, " an unfortunate thing has happened. Urgent business demands my presence in Moscow. I am compelled to forego the pleasure of showing you our city in person. I shall start by an early train, and will be absent two or three days. What I would suggest to you is this: remain here to-morrow, and look around St. Petersburg under Ivan's guidance. Ivan Tambor is my trusted servant who met you at the train to-night. He has always accompanied me, and speaks good English. Then on the following day he wnll escort you to Moscow, and there I shall devote myself to your pleasure. There is much to be seen at Moscow."

The boys expressed themselves as delighted with this arrangement. " Meanwhile," continued their host, " you will find everything here arranged for your comfort. Ivan will see that nothing is neglected. And now I observe that you are weary and in need of rest. Pardon my thoughtlessness." He rang for a servant, and the boys were speedily ushered to another floor, where luxurious bedrooms, not unlike apartments they had seen at home, awaited them. Vladimir Saradoff, alone in his library, paced the floor with an ill concealed expression of triumph on his features. At last, seating himself at a large ebony desk, he seized paper and pen and began to write rapidly. The first letter completed, he sealed and stamped it with coloured wax, and addressed it as follows : "To Count Paul Brosky, " Minister of tbe Interior."

He at once resumed his writing, and on finishing a second letter half an hour later, he sealed that in the same manner, and addressed it to: " Captain Sasha, " Commandant of tho Forwarding Prison, " Moscow." He pulled a bell-cord, and Ivan Tambor speedily entered the room. Vladimir Saradoff handed him the letters. "Deliver this one immediately," he said, designating the letter first written; "let the other go by the early mail. You understand everything, Ivan ?" " Yes, your Excellency," replied the Russian ; " nothing shall be forgotten," and saluting his master, he left the apartra. Overhead, in the soft, luxurious beds, the two boys slept calmly, little dreaming of their host's perfidy, unconscious of the fataf import of those two letters that were even now speeding to their respective destinations.

In Russia deeds are possible that no other country en the globe would tolerate. With his wealth, his standing at Court, his influence with high officials, what could not Vladimir Saradoff accomplish if he willed P In the dark days of Ivan the Terrible no viler deed was ever con ceived than this aristocratic Russian so coolly perpetrated that night. CHAPTER ni. AR.KSSTED. ONE day Maurice Hammond and Philip Danvers spent amid the grandeur and magnificence of St. Petersburg— a day so vivid in contrast to the darkness and gloom chat followed thai ever remain undimmed in their memories. In a huge Russian sleigh, drawn by three powerful horses, thai drove the length of the vast Nevskoi Prospekt, a boulevard more than a hundred feet broad and three miles long. The buildings were huge, massive, and imposing; the frozen roadway was filled with sleighs of every description, from the peasant's humble box on runners to the magnificent turnouts of the nobility.

The side-walks were thronged with foot passengers, merchants, porters, civil servants, officers in long cloaks, ladies in Parisian toilettes, priests in flowing black gowns and briœless hats, while over the horizon rose gilded and painted domes and countless Greek crosses. Presently the great street merged into the Court Quay, a marvellous highway of rose granite, bordered on the one side by the palaces of the nobility, on the other by the frozen waters of the Neva. Ivan, sitting like a statute on the front seat, points out from tiM to time places of note— the Winter Palace, where the Czar lives in ARRESTED. 17 regal state, the adjoining Hermitage, and the palaces of the Grand Dukes. Now he inclines his hand across the frozen Neva. " The Fortress," he says, briefly, and, with thrilling interest, the boys gaze on the bastions and towers of that noted citadel, where unhappy prisoners languish in their bombproof cells.

For hours they drove through the streets, crossing and reorossing the seven canals which appear in every direction. Turning back late in the afternoon, they entered through a massive archway the Palace Square. A burst of music reached the boys' ears, and a scene of splendour opened before them. From the centre of the square towered a shaft of red granite— the Alexander Column — aud at its base the band of the Imperial Guard was playing airs from Offenbach. Mounted Cossncks wero keeping back the impetuous crowd. " There has been a review," said Ivan ; " the troops are returning." He signalled to the driver, aud as the sleigh drew up before the imposing faoade of the Admiralty, the head of tho line, a squad of tho Imperial Guard, reached the archway. Close behind, at a sharp trot, came the Asiatic troops.

Georgians, Persians, Circassians, and Mongols, armed with lances and steel maces, clad in long coats of mail. Then followed compact bodies of infantry — Finland Chasseurs ind the giants of the Paul Regiment with massive copper hats — marching sharply to avoid the hordes of cavalry who were crowding at their heels— Red Hussars, Grenadiers, Laucers, and swarms of Cossacks on their shaggy ponies. They hastened on towards their quarters, and as the last. Co__&ck ambled through the arch a battery of artillery charged into the square from the other extremity. Maurice watched the approaching group with eager interest. They clattered past the Alexander Column, the fiery black chargers cur vetting and prancing to the music of the band, and as they drew near the arch, an officer, superbly uniformed and mounted, galloped into the square almost beside the sleigh where the boys sat.

The horse slipped on the smooth-trodden snow, and plunged heavily to the ground, bearing his rider with him aud pinning him firmly from the waist downward directly in the t'.ack of the rumbling cannons. One loud cry burst from the startled spectators, aud the artillery c horses, scared at the uproar, bore madly down on the helpless officer, lost to all restraint. Maurice took in the situation at a glance — the frightened people on the sidewalks, the mounted Cossacks before the sleigh, who seemed petrified with horror, and the rapidly advancing artillery. Ho sprang to the ground, aud in three leaps reached the luckless officer's side. Grasping him under the arms, he pulled with all his might, once, twice, and as the portly form yielded, he sprang back with his burden from under the very hoofs of the snorting horses and sank down on the trampled snow.