Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 36, Number 71, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 April 1904 — The Secret Dispatch [ARTICLE]

The Secret Dispatch

By JAMES GRANT

CHAPTER XXI. Heavy and sad was the heart of Char lie Balgonie when on the evening of the 3fith of September," that which was subsequent to the episode at Schlusselburg, ho saw the denies and towers of St. [Petersburg glittering in gold and bronze, ■n green and fiery or fantastic colors. ■ mid the rich glow of a ruddy sunset, ■nd where rising from the haze of the vast city, the polished cupola of St. Ssaac’s Cathedral, and the slender spire iof the Admiralty, like a needle of flame, ■eemed to float in midair. As he entered the first guarded bar irier he met a party of lancers at a trot, [their tall fur caps having large plumes, their lances each with a long bannerole Waving in the wind. They escorted a covered wagon, and were led by Balhnain, a Scottish officer, who in after years stormed Kaffa. in the Crimea. ‘’Whither go you?” asked Balgonie. ‘‘For Schlusselburg—the palace of sorrow.” “With a prisoner. of course “Yes, I regret to say, with the niece ®f Mierowitz, with Mlle. Mariolizza. She is to be confined under a warrant from the Grand Chancellor —poor girl!” Sadder and heavier grew the honest [heart of Balgonie as the escort and its Ihearse-like carriage passed on, and as he {looked after it the fair, merry face, the [graceful figure, the gay manner of the betrothed of poor Basil, as he had seen >ier at Louga, came back vividly to memory. i Balgonie was at St. Petersburg when Mierowitz was executed, when his father [died, and when other horrors followed. Moreover, he was closely and repeatedly interrogated by the Grand Chancellor, [the Privy Councilor and by Gen. WeyImarn as to all he knew and had seen of mlie conspirators— So closely that nothing surprised him so much as to find that no suspicion was attached to himself. But being a soldier of fortune, who possessed [nothing in the world but his sword and his epaulets, he was not worth suspecting by the imperial government. Ere long the name of Natalie came before the Secret Chancery as . a prisoner Bn Schlusselburg, and, like the rest, she iwas tried and condemned in her absence, (undefended and unheard —and sentenced, poo, amid the solitude of her prison. ■ To Balgonie the charm of life seemed [to have passed away, and during the Nkeek or two that followed his return to [St. Petersburg, dreary, weary and unmeaning indeed seemed the routine of Jlis duties as aide-de-camp at the vast [parades, the brilliant receptions, the ieourts martial, and other public affairs Ito which he followed his chief. Gen. iWeymarn. -at- the palaces of Tsarsky fcelo, or Oranienbaum, and elsewhere, While ignorant of the fate of Natalie —- Iwhile the very life of her he loved hung ibi the balance. . Charlie, in his desperation, applied to Site ambassadors from France and Britain: and both received his verbal prayers; but they were unheeded; and the tmiuisters replied only by bows, grimaces and shrugs of their diplomatic shoulders. Their interference was impossible ■—quite: and. unfortunately, his old patiron, Admiral Thomas Mackenzie, was with the fleet. ' Balgonie, 'returning from CTonstadt, [whither he had been sent by Gen. Weyaiam, suddenly met Captain Vlastier face face to face near the palace of the Ito face near the palace of the favorite Lanskoi. This personage he would have avoided like a toad or a leper: but from him only ■light he learn something of her he loved in Schlusselburg, that hateful place to ■which the captain was returning; so, [overcoming or rather concealing his repugnance, he adjourned with him to a ■use. 1 “I dare say you have heard,” said [Vlasfief, with a strange leer in his eyes, ,as he tossed his hat and saber on the [sofa and deposited his jack-booted limbs jon another, ‘ how the estates of the Mie[rowitz and those of I’sakoff have been told or gifted away; pillaged and raviaged by Lanskoi with a party of Cossacks; and that the plunder has been stored up in Schlusselburg?” “Something of all this I have heard,” geplied Balgonie, “and —and—but you [have there two ladies of the family?” “True—one beautifully fair, the other .'black-haired like a Pole. Poor girls! I jremember them both in happier and brighter times; but those who play with jfiro will, you know, be burned. The sentiences on all have been found, recorded and, in two instances, executed; and they iare truly terrible!” “Executed —the sentence!” replied Bal.gonie, in a faint voicce. , “Yes; ah! he is a stern old fellow, I'anitn!” “How —what? Vlasfief, you jest!” “ ‘Tis no jest; we don’t jest on such Walters in Russia," replied Vlasfief. •"You are a Scot, like Balmain, and as [the Turks say, truly, ‘Those who have [never seen the world think it is all like ■heir father’s house.' In short, the—the [two ladies, in the wildness of their grief I—Mariolizza especially—on. hearing of the death of Mierowitz, permitted their tongues to run riot, and to say such things of her Imperial Majesty and some st the favorites as no womau would parIdon; -so they are to be given in succes|sion to the master of the shoulders." “Explain. I implore you. explain!” asked Balgonie, with quivering lips. “Mademoiselle Mariolizza has received six blows of the knout. The torturer is a new man, and mangled her cruelly. She has had her tongue cut out, and her forehead branded with the executioner's mark, and she goes to Siberia as soon as she recovers; but she will never reach it ■live. The other will undergo exactly ihailar p nisbment, and there ends the muse of Mierowitz, which boasts of its ififrscent from Ruric the Varagian of Old (Ladoga!” ; With wonderful coolness of manner, almost an occasional jest, the cruel and ■Mkellke Vlasfief—who, as a. parvanu M the foundling hospital hated ths heUgdltAry aristocracy -detailed these mattaye; and Balgonie felt as if a black cloud gßvetopod him. He heard the captain t

talking, but his mind and thoughts were far, far away; and after a time he found himself alone. had mounted and ridden off; and mechanically, like an automaton. Balgonie had bidden him adieu at the portico of the case, as one in a waking dream; nor was it until the bell of St. Isaac’s tolled midnight, when the lights were burned low. and lie saw a drowsy waiter hovering near him, that he rose to depart: for to him, now, all places seemed alikx>. In the street a shower, of tears revived him; and he wept unseen, like a gre.at boy. while grinding his teeth and t wiping his mustache like a furious and desperate man. Russia, her laws, her rulers, her very air, he loathed and detect - cd. But what was he to do?—which way was he to turn?—-was he to permit these horrors and live? He had been present when the Regiment of Smolensk©-guarded the punishment of Mme. Lnpouchm, one of the most beautiful women of the Imperial Court, where she shone like a planet, was loved, admired- and more than once fought for. An alleged conspiracy brought her to the knout, in the light of open day; and Charlie remembered thzt sickening scene, before the eyes of assembled thousands, and how, as the Abbe d’Anterroche records, “in a few moments all the skin of her tender back was cut away in small strips, most of which remained hanging. Her tongue was cut out immediately after, and she was banished into Siberia.”

“Oh, Natalie, Natalie!” he could but repeat, while he wrung his hands; and thus the dawn of day found him. After mature consideration of his position, his powerlessness and the difficulties that beset him. with the horrors impending over Natalie, poor Charlie Balgonie felt maddened, crushed and heart-broken. Could he see her perish without a struggle, an effort, however reckless, fruitless and futile, on her behalf, even if he pistoled the executioner? “Hearts will break in this life,” says a recent writer; “it is the nature of them; but if God wills it; and it wqre possible, itislioncster, braver, and nobler to live than to die.” Most true; but to live is to hope. Balgonie vaguely, but sternly, resolved that he would do something, but being a poor, bewildered, loving young fellow, he could in no way practically se what that something might be. The next day was not far advanced when Balgonie was summoned by Gen. Weymarn, whose staff he had been resolving to quit; but for what purpose, or whither to go, he knew not,. With something of a shudder he beheld the Stepniak—>the comrade and confederate of the late Nicholas Paulovitch —leaving the general’s quarters. Save that he wore the scarlet livery of his new trade —torture and death — he was unchanged, and was the same hideous and ill-visaged giant—with square shoulders, enormous beard, mouselike eyes, hair shorn off straight across the beetle brows, and the pineappleshaped head—whom Balgonie had seen its the hut where the wretched Podatchkiue perished. He was now public executioner of St. Petersburg; under his felon hands had poor Mierowitz and Mariolizza been, and ere long would Natalie- be.

Weymarn was a grave and stern, yet not unkind, old soldier; and on perceiving that his young aid-de-camp looked pale, he spoke to him with unusual kindness, and added: “I am sorry to say that I have a new duty of importance for you to perform.” “Thanks, general; any excitement is 'better than—than idleness.” “True. You will have to ride to Schlusselburg with an escort, composed of six Cossacks of the Imperial Guard, apd bring back the sum of eighty thousand roubles, which are there in canvhs bags, sealed. They have been levied on the estates of Mierowitz. You will receive them' from the officer commanding there; give a signed receipt, and deliver them into the Imperial Treasury.” Balgonie bowed in The general, who, of course, knew well the corrupt venality of the Russian service, added:

“If the sum is brought entire to the treasury, Carl Ivanovitch, a reasonable gratuity will, of course, be paid you.” “Excellency, I require none for doing my duty, either in this or any other matter,” replied Balgonie, even haughtily. “As you please, sir—as you please. Some among us might be less particular,” said the old general, tugging his grisly mustache. “And —stay. By the by, there is a prisoner at Schlusselburg whose sentence is to be executed to-mor-row in presence of the assembled troops and people here ” Balgonie thought of but one prisoner there, and an icy chill came over him as Weymarn said: “With the escort and the wagon. Captain, you will at the same time bring the culprit here.”

“And—and this pris-on-ner. Excellency?” faltered the poor fellow. “Is Jagouskl, the Cossack, who so se-' verely wounded Col. Beroikoff when in th. execution of his duty. 7 An order will be necessary for you—a special order — since the affair of that wretched young fellow Mierowitz we cannot be too particular; so take this: •* . “ ‘To the Dfficer Commanding at Schlusselburg: “ ‘You are hereby directed to deliver t<s Captain Carl Ivanovitch Balgonie, of the Smolensko Regiment, the prisoner who is to be executed to-morrow. “ WEYMARN, Lieut. Gen..’ “For the delivery of the money here is n separate order from the treasurer. Adieu.” CHAPTER XXII. As Balgonie left the presence of Gen. Weysaarn a sndden light broke through the darkness of his miud-jMp-UDloOked-for thought—and. hope suddenly Inspired him afid a prayer of thanks to heaven rose to his lips therefor. No prisoner was actually designated by namein the writt«a order of the general I

Thus in lieu of the Cossack Jagouskl, he would demand that Natalie Mierowna be given into his custody,' and with her he would escape, quit Russia and the service of the Empress at all risks. He had no papers—no leave of absence, or passport; but as the epaulet is an all-powerful badge in Russia, his uniform and his saber would be passports enough. For the rest, he must trust to his own love and courage and to his knowledge of the country. But then there was the Cossack escort —how was he to rid himself of it? The same kind heaven which favored and inspired him now would not fail to Ao so, he hoped, when the crisis came. —While :: his best horse was being saddled and accoutered lie consulted the map of Russia. There was no way for it but to ride,: at al! hazards, toward the frontier of Finland. They would there be safe beyond pursuit—safe among the hospitable Swedes, who are always hostile to the grasping and aggressive Russians.

At last he saw his way clearly, as he thought, through Viborg from Schlusselburg northwestward in safety. He put all the money he possessed about his person, filled his cartridge box with ammunition and buckled on hissabeiv “By this time to morrow,” he muttered, as he glanced at his watch, “the game Will have been won or —lost!” It was considerably past the noon of an October day when they set. out for Schlusselburg, and ere long the rain began to fall heavily, soaking the hussar finery of the Cossacks of the guard; but Charlie Balgonie rode silently on at their head, heedless of the blind torrents and the bellowing wind, though he little knew that as the darkness increased, and the early night drew on, that the waters of the lake and river were rising fast, and that a peril, of which he had no conception, already menaced the existence of Natalie. But her voice seemed to be over whispering in his ear; “Carl, Carl, my beloved Carl, come to my aid —save me —help me, if you love mo!”

When they were midway to Schlusselburg the wagon driver fell awkwardly from his seat, ami broke his right arm. What was to be done now? No Cossack of the guard would condescend to supply his place, and for more.than an hour the party remained halted in a desolate spot, near a pine wood, while looking about to capture the first peasant, serf or civilian of any kind.whom they might meet, and press him into the service. A skulking and somewhat sulky boor, in a fur cap and canvas coat, leather leggings and bark shoes, who had been sleeping under a great tree, was ere long discovered, dragged forward, and, with ■sundry •th reats, —commanded-- to - mouutthe shaft and act as driver, which he did with a reluctance he was at no pains to conceal." Knowing how -necessary it was to conciliate this new acquisition. Balgonie asked him a few questions, with sternness. but yet with politeness. The serf was a singularly handsome young man, with eaglelike eyes rind an aquiline nose, that was almost hooked; he was without his mustache, which seemed to have been recently shaved off; but he had a curly red beard, with a complexion of well-nigh Asiatic darkness: “Trust me, dear Carl Ivanovitch,” said he, in a low and impressive voice, that was strangely familiar to Balgonie. “My disguise. 1 find, is complete indeed, when it deceives even you; but speak in French.” “Your disguise—yours?” “Yes—l am Apollo I’sakoff,” he added through his teeth. (To be continued.)