Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, February 18, 1899, Page 10

TOS THE BLACK TERROR A Romance of Russia. By JOHN K. LEYS. Cog renner ener 2nng CHAPTER XXVI—(Continued.) I have shown you before rule and system of justice we have a right to avenge our Wrongs upon our oppressors. Yet is secmed as if we lacked the sanction that only superior force can bestow. Well, within the limits of this little 1 nt for our purpose 1 around with a smile as he spoke— “ours is unquestionably the paramount power.” fie turned abruptly and went into the prison. I followed him. We had passed through the building and reached the porch at the front, when Von Mitschka turned once more and spoke to me. 1 ive been thinking,” said he, agi if you were to see the Prince ths evening, as you intended, you would find him tired—worn out, indeed, with his day’s work. He would not be in a fit state to converse with you. It will be better to wait until to-morrow morn and see him before he goes out to his work.” Of course, I could only aequiesce, but I was none the less disappointed. coming interview would be, I knew, momentous one f¢ ious to have it over- because I had not been able to see’ ele iy what L ought to y ‘to the Prince. I could not bargain with him for his da y, he could not t my tion for him could be such as to make me willing to risk my own liberty in order to secure h as nervous and ill at ease when 1 ht of the meeting that lay before me; and while I was disappointed at its being postponed, | was at the same time conscious—strangely enough!—or a certain feeling of relic ! went back to the brig and dined alone that night, Von Mitschka re- maining at the prison, Next day 1 rose nd had just finished breakf: n I was told that the boat that me ashore was ready and vaiting. CHAPTER XVII. The Prince's Promise. ‘Tne cell door was opened. 1 went in and started back, thinking that I had been put into the wrong cell by some mistake, Could that bent, uncouth, shapeless figure, that old man, sitting on the head bent beneath his hands—could t be the brillant courtier, the su il man of the world, the proud ar- ocrat, Prince Kropenski? As I involuntarily uttered a cry, be lifted bis head and looked at me.’ Yes it was the prince, but how change Phe very man, the very features of his face, seemed to be altered by the de: £ tion that had fallen on him, Or was it that this w: the real man, stripped of the ad ages of wealth and luxury, robbed of the proud bear- ins which the habit of command alone n give? Alas! Prince Kropen Was now forced to obey, and alreac tthe sullen look of the newly-tamed slave was his : I stood silent, too much speak. The Prince break the silence. With a ery of joy. he recognized me, sprang from his se: and seized me by the hand. Then, let- ting go my hands, he gripped me by the shoulders. ; “You here, too} What could they want with you?’ he cried, his eyes wide open with amazement. “No, Prince, I have not been kid- i moved to was the first to napped. I have come of my own ac- cord.” “Of your own accord? Then you have come to set me free?” I shook my head, thinking that it would be cruel to raise hopes that might never be realized. But the look of despair in the Prince’s face made me add: It is just possible that | may be abte to do something for you, but you must net count on it.” “Does the Government know what has become of me?’ was his next ques- tion. “No. They believe, or pretend to be- lieve, that you left home of your own accord.” The Prince made a passionate gest- ure with his fist in the air. “They must guess that those cursed Nihilists have got hold of me!” he ex- elain ed. “I am inclined to think that they do gness it, but in that case they probab- Ty thunk that you are dead.” “True. I have thought of that. But you are not a prisoner, you said, Mr. Heath. When you leave this horrible place, you will let the Czar know that I and twelve or fourteen more of his best and most faithful servants are cooped up here, forced to work like convicts, half-starved and subjected to a thousand indignities and insults? You will put the police on the track of these scoundrels—and in a week or two we shall be free! Ah, free! Free! You will do this, Mr. Heath, for the sake of humanity?” “Indeed, I would do it, Prince, were it in my power. Unfortunately, it is not,” “But why. sir? How is it not in your power? What do you mean?” “I have pledged my word—my sacret word of honor—that | will reveal nothing. It was only on condition of my giving this pledge that 1 was at- Jowed to come here at all.” “Your word of honor? Poot!’ eried the Prince, blowing out his breath, as if scattering something light as thistle- down into the air. “Don’t tatk to me about considerations of honor im con- nectiors with ruffians such as tuesel’ ‘Phe | side of the truckle-bed, with his ; “I can’t agree with you. 1 was un- i der no sort of compunction to make the promise; but, having made 1t, and having come here on the faith of my pes it seems to me that it must be kept.” “This is madness!” Pritce, passionately. urd scruple of that kind interfere with your plain duty. You would not condemn me to live out the rest of my life here?” | * Prince. I hope it will not come to that. There is a chance, though a faint one, that I may be able to get the Committee of Public safety, as they { choose to be called, to release you of ; their own accord. There is a certain | service they want me to undertake for i them. What it is I do not know; and, | therefore, I do not know whether it | will be possible for me to attempt it. So, I would advise you not to build too | many hopes on the chance of my being ‘able to do it. Still, there is a chance. It is not auite hopeless. At first the eyes of the Prince fairly danced with joy. Then, as he contin- ued to hang upon my words, and | | warmed him that the service required of me might turn out to be one that IL could not or would rot perform, a look of extreme anxiety came into his face. “B Mr. Heath, won't you?’ he cried, eagerly seizing me by the arm. here can’t be much danger in doing it. whatever it is. And you are an Englishman—you are not afraid of danger. Only say that you will do what they want of you, onl get me out of this foul den, and I will give you uny sum of money that you like to name—anything in reason, that is. You will consent? I am sure you will!” ‘The man’s selfishness disgusted me, and I answered, coldly that, until I knew what the service required of me ‘was, I could not possibly pledge my- self to perform it. “If it were to com- mit a murder, you would not expect me to do tha I added, with a smile. “Well, no, I suppose not. And yet, there a great many men in the Czar’s , Service who would not be much missed. | Something would depend upon the per- son in such a case, wouldn't it, Mr. Heath} And then, it could hardly be exclaimed the “To let an ab- for so good an object. I am sure that, under the circumstances, when I come His Majesty, he would pardon you, even supposing that the thing leaked out; for there are many men of rank and influence here, and, of course, I all rescued, if L were once at liberty. So, I don’t think you need be too scru- pulous about falling in with the views {of those scoundrels. And, remember, | the reward would be enormous!” | There was a mixture of cringing amd | patronage in the manner of this proud ‘man, as he feebly tried to extract a promise from me that I would do what was 0 ry for bis release at all $ elf, and at any sacrifice of principle or morality, that disgusted me even more than his unblushing self- ishness. It was with the greatest dif- fieulty that I could conceal my con- tempt for him. For answer, I could only repeat what I had said before. “Besides,” T added, “on the way here we were kept sailing about so long that, as I was prevented from looking at the compass, and had no idea of the distance we covered, I could not possi- bly give directions from which anyone | could make out the position of this isl- and on the map.” “It is an island, then? I thought so!” I heard the Prince say to himself in a low tone; and I saw that I had been indiscreet. ‘ “How was it that you came to find out what had become of me? And why did you not give information to the po- lice at once?’ asked the Prince, ab- ruptly. I explained that 1 had gone to St. Petersburg to make inquiries on be- half of Princess Kropenski, and that, accidentally, meeting a friend there, L had gained through him positive in- formation that he was a prisoner in the hands of the Nihilists, and finally obtained permission to visit him, on condition of giving a solemn promise of secrecy. “By the way, how is the Princes: he asked. It was the first time her name had been menticned between us, I answered that she was ip her usu- al state of health, but, of course, suf- fering from anxiety on his aecount. ‘rhe Prince listened with an absent expression, as though he were think- ing of something of the greatest mo- ment. her?’ he asked. “It shall be a mere matters, so that, even if I had the op- | stranger. I know it would be abso- lutely safe in your hands.” “P think I can promise to carry the | note for you,” I answered, after think- ipg a moment. “But it must deal only with private family matters, and there must be nothing in it that would give say that you are well and hope to re- | join her soon..”” “Oh, that is quite understood. L will be discretion itself,” said the Prince. There was a small table in a corner j of the cell, which held writing mater} als, as well as two or three books, In five minutes the Prince had written his letter and handed it to me. It was addressed to the Princess _Kropenski, and sealed with a morsel of gummed paper, which appeared to. have been torn from an eld envelope. | Searcely had I put the missive in my breast pocket when, the door of the cell was opened, and Paul Von Mitschka , _ stood before us, ‘juneess. pershral rdl-di udluwfypwtp Ha! You here! I might have guessed . it?” eried, the Prince, drawing himself i called murder, you know, being done | to explain all the points involved to | could inform the police and get them , “Will you carry a letter from me to { note, but it concerns important family | | portunity, I could not intrust it to a | a hint as to where you are, or what has ; happened to you. It will be enough to | up baughtily. But the next instant he remembered the necessity of conciliat- ing the man who was one of his capt- ors, and he added, with a change of tone and manner which was nothing less than ludicrous: “Ah! If I had taken your advice, Herr Von Mitsch- ka, I should not have been here!” “True,” said the chief, with a quiet smile; “but I am none the less anxious bs bring about your release, if possi- le.” t “A thousand thanks, my dear sir! And I can only say now, on the word of a Prince of the Russian Empire, that, if your efforts succeed, you shall not find me ungrateful. Any little in- fluence I may have with his Majes- ty— “I suppose our friend here has told you the project we have in view?” said Von Mitschka, interrupting the Prince without ceremony. “Yes, certainly. And he has as good | as promised—have you not, my dear Mr. Heath?—to perfcrm the little ser- vice which you require of him? It can- not, surely, be anything beyond his courage to undertake?” “That remains to be seen. But | pre- | sume that, in the event of his consent- | ing, you will keep your promise, and | low him to marry the Princess Lren: The Prince turned on me a stare of baughty amazement. I flushed up angrily, as this was saia, and exclaimed: othing ‘has been said about the Princess!” But Von Mitschka paid no attention to me. He kept his steely gray eyes fixed on the Prince. Kropenski's brow became black as thunder, “You hear what he s sullenly, with a side-glance at | Princess, my daughter. We will keep her name out of this discussion alto- her, if you please.” | “T fear that is quite impossible. How can we discuss the terms of a bargain without mentioning the quid pro quo?” | At these words, coldly as they were ‘spoken, the Prince’s manner changed altogether. Anger swept away all oth- ey feelings. His prudence vanished. Striding up to Von Mitsch his large, red face flushed, the veins on his half- bald forehead knotted to bursting, and his hands clenched, he shouted out: “If you had been in my castle of Lov or anywhere else outside of this ac- cursed hole, you would not have dared to speak those words im my hearing! And if you were a mun, you would not insult one who is in your power!” “I did not insult you, Prince,’ id the Nihilist, in the calm, even tones he had used throughout. “But what should make this young man undertake an en- terprise, which I freely admit is one of the greatest danger, but some such prize as the hand of your daughter? Do you imagine he would risk his life for love of you, Prince Kropenski? Or do you take him for an Italian bravo, ! who will sell the use of his stiletto for so much down? No.” But I could keep silence no longer. “Listen me, Prince!” I cried, turning my back on Von Mitschka. “It is true, as he would tell you, that I have con ceived a mad, foolish love for the Princess Irene. I see nothing to be ashamed of in that. And it is also true that I have entertained ‘hopes— foolish hopes, maybe—that if I suc ceeded in doing you this great service, you might be disposed to look upon anything I might say with regard to your daughter more vorably than you would otherwise have done. But nothing was further from my mind than to take advantage of your unhap- py situation, by forcing you to a bar- gain about it. And still less would I presume to ask for the hand of the Princess unless she preferred me of all men to be her husband. Unless she should join in my pr yer—and I have not the slightest right to think she would do such a thing—I would sooner die than marry her as the price of your liberty.” The Prince’s brow cleared as he list- ened toe. He held out his hand, but did not shake mine warmly when he took it. “You have spoken like a man of honor, at all events,” he said, And, without casting a second glance at Von Mitschka, he began to pace up and down the narrow limits of his cell, evi- dently plunged in thought. | “what you have just said puts a dif- ferent complexion on the affair alto- gether,” he said, addressing me. “I , will sell my daughter's hand to no ‘mam, not even if perpetual imprison- ment or death were the penalty for me. But if all you ask is a promise that it | you win Princess Kropenski's consent, T will not refuse mine, that is a differ- ent matter. I see nothing dishonorable in agreeing to that.” “We understand, then,” said Von Mitschka, interposing, somewhat to my relief, “that if Mr. Heath can pro- cure your release from: your present confinement, he is at liberty to be- come a suitor for the Princess Irene, and if he is fortunate enough to win her consent, you will allow him to marry her}” “Yes—that is understood,” said the Prince; and we left the cell without another word, except that I whispered to his as I took his hand at parting: “[ may not see you again, Prince, but you can depend upon it that what I can do shall be done.” CHAPTER XVIII. Von Mischka Telly a Strange Tale. | | “So you would haee gone without \the promise?’ laughed the chief, as we were seated opposite each other in the cabin of the Susannah, ! after dinner that evening. “Yes. I could not have demanded a | promise of that kind myself.” | | “And you really imagined that a ! sense of gratitude, afetr all peril was past, would have impelled the Prince | to do the right thing by you?" “I had my fears, I confess. He might ' very well have refused to give me his daughter, even if I had been instru- | mental in bringing about his release.” “Confess, then, that you are very much obliged to me!” “Well, Lam, in a way,” I said, witha laugh. ‘“There’s no denying it. But 1 suspect that your own anxiety that I should have a powerful motive to agree ito the suggestion that you have to / make to me had something to do with | your éatervention,” “I won't say you are wrong,” said ys,” he said, | me. | “Not a word has been said about the | Nihilist | Ai Von Mitschka. He Ht a not a German one—and pad ee some time in silence. “Did the Prince tell how we managed to kidnap him?’ he asked, after a long pause. 4 “No. There was little time, and we had other things to speak of.’ ’ “And you have no curiosity on the subject?” “Indeed, I have. For weeks I pon- dered the mystery of his disappear- ance, without ever being able to guess at a theory that would account for the facts. That an ablebodied man, a man of courage, and a soldier, should have been abducted from his own bedroom, in a house full of servanis, and in a city so well guarded as St. Petersburg, seems to me ncething short of miracu- lous. He must either have been de- ceived into going of his own accord, or he must have been kept quiet in pass- ing through the streets in such a way as to rouse no suspicion in the minds | of the police who were on duty. I con- fess, I should very much like to know how it was managed.” “You will keep the matter secret if I tell you all about it?’ “I hesitated a moment, but I was al- ready so deep in the confidence of the 1 conspirators, that it seemed hardly worth while to boggle over another | promise of secrecy, so I gave it. “I had rather you had heard the Prince’s experience from his own lips,” said Von Mitschka: “but it is scarcely | worth while to waste a day in having | another interview with ‘him for that purpose. I can tell you exactly what he would have said to you, if you had sked him how it was that he fell into our hands.” - What would he have said?” “That his coachman was a Nihilist, | or in the pay of our committee, and , had betrayed him. But it would have ' been a mistake.” “I can quite believe that, for I ques- tioned Alexander Romovitch, amt I believe him to be a thoroughly-honest man, and incapable of betraying his WW er. But I don’t see what Romo- vitch could have to do with it. He did not even sleep in the house, and the Privee was either kidnapped in his bedroom, or enticed, in some way, to leave it, and then leave the house. “That is your theor “I think he enticed from his house, either by the hope of exploring some Nihilist haunt, or (more likely) in the expectation of meeting some wo- man he fancied himself in love with; and was attacked and bound in the se he went to.” su are entirely wrong. But let me . th I suppose you made you acquainted with the Prince’s movements on the night when he dis- appeared?” “Oh, certainly. He dined at home, and alone. About ten ménutes to elev- en he left the house, to go to the ball at the French Embassy, using his own ge. Several people met and spoke to him there. I have interviewed them myself, and they all agree that he was in good health and spirits then. “He left the ball room about half- st two, and drove straight home. steward saw him and spoke to him i H on his return, and noticed nothing un- usual in his appearance. From the | hall he went straight to his bedroom— | and that is the last any of his friends saw of him, till I saw him to-day, “Humph! Would it surprise you if L | were to tell you that the Prince never returned from the ball that night at all?” “What! Romovitch, the steward! sible!” | “No: they are not telling Hes. But they told you, not what they saw, but what they thought they saw. The Prince never went back to the house after the ball. One of our number, who closely resembles him in height and general appearance, was dressed | in a fur cloak, exactly like one the Prince was in the habit of wearing; | and there is little wonder that honest | Lvanoviteh—I think you said that was his name—in the dim light of the hall, | and probably half-asleep, believed that | the persen he, saw come to his master’s die in his master’s carriage, driven, apparently, by his master’s coachman, | and wearing his master's <lothes, was that master himself. Do you know that we very seldom look anyone in ‘ the face unless when we happen to be speaking to them? Least of all is a servant in the habit of staring inauis- | itively at his master’s countenance, ‘And the person who took Prince Kro- penski’s place on that occasion took care to keep his face turned away from the steward when the good man addressed him, Hardly more than a word or two, I believe, passed between them. “It was a capital idea of the man— let us call him Prince Kropenski No, Two-to go into the dining room and help himself to a glass of brandy. It took him out of the steward’s way, and yet strengthened the impression in | his mind that his master was actually ‘there in the flesh before him. The stranger took advantage of the stew- | ard’s going to lock the street door to throw off his cloak and go up stairs. | Tvanoyitch naturally thought it was | the Prince who had gone into his bed- m,”” “And the man who impersonated the Prince simply walked out of the house when everybody was asleep?” “Precisely.” “Then the servant who was the first to open the side door was mistaken in thinking that she had fastened it in | che morning? I remember she could not speak positively om the point. “No; she was not mistaken. | found the door locked as usual.” “hat is as much as to say that you _ had an agent in the Prince's house- | hold. I think I could pame the man. | But was it not rather dangerous to pro claim the fact?” “[ don’t think so. We took good cate | that there was not a scrap of evidence | te be found against our friend if he | had been arrested. Our object was to | heighten the effect in the minds of the | police and the public. If we had left | the police to believe that the Prince | had walked out of the house of his own accord, the ffect would not have been so striking. We preferred that the po- lice should know that we had an agent | in the Prince’s household. We wish them to believe that we are even better | supplied with information than we ‘are, that we have friends and agents ‘ everywhere. And in this case we suc- | eveded. I have reason to know that | the Prince’s household, yourself includ- ed, have been under the surveillance of the pesice ever since the Prince disap- peared.” He didn’t return Phen are It is not pos- She (To Be Ceutinued.) ed to the curable. Were is t steamers ply sibility and the anxiety causes a warning’ I was tal again. and to-day I owe my present Sa ‘Locomotor Ataxia”: Paralysis Can be Cured. These extreme nervous disorders were treated with wonderful success by the dis- coverer of Dr. Williams Pink Pills for Pale People, previous to ‘his discovery r d public generally. 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My wife kept reading to me, articles about Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale People. We finally decided to try them. The first box gave me relief. I continued to use them for about two years before I could get strength enough to walk. Iam nearly seventy-five years old and there is nota man in this city that can kick higher or walk further than I can ood health to Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale People for they saved my life.” —Detroit Evening News. The DR WILLIAMS: 50 cents Genuine INK: Oo per box are sold TEES se at all only in : druggists Packages Mg E or sent Like : "ME CREAT. direct: %, Blood Builder and Nerve Tonic by mail-- i bein For many at respon- This is a posit ocket Says: it nervous strain. Mr. ‘was unable to move from my bed. ‘more could “THERE IS SCIENCE IN NEATNESS.” BE WISE AND USE SAPOLIO A Valuable Maxim. Sadie—Mamma, mayn’t 1 have a piece of that lemon pie? Mamma—lI think it is best that you shouldn’t, my dear. You know the last time you ate a piece it disagreed with you. Sadie—I know it, ma; but you know the rule: If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.—Boston Courier. STATE OF OHIO, CITY OF TOLEDO, |... Lucas County, Frank J. Cheney makes’ oath that he is the senior partner of the firm of F’. J. Cheney &Co., doi usiness in the City of Toledo, County and State aforesaid, and that said firm will pay the sum of ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS for each and every case of Catarrh that cannot be cured by the use of Hall's Catarrh Cure. id FRANK J. CHENEY. Sworn to before me and subscribed in m: presence, this 6th day of December, A. D. If (SEAL) A. W. GLEASON, ‘Notary Public. Hall's Catarrh Cure is taken internally, and acts directly on the blood and mucous surfaces of the system. Send for testimonials, free. . F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, Sold by Druggists, 75c. Hall's Family Pills are the best. Why He Wasn’t There. The Rev. Dr. Fourimly—Mr. Wrap- pemtp, I didn’t see you at church yes- terday evening. Grocer—No, doctor. So many of your congregation came to get supplies for their Sunday dinner that 1 couldn’t get away in time.—Chicago Tribune. Rend the Advertisements. You willenjoy this publication much better if you will get into the habit of reading the advertisements; they will afford a most amusing study, and will put you in the way of getting some excellent bargains. Our advertisers are rellanle: they send what they adver- ie. He who lives only to benetit himself confers on the world a benefit when he dies.—Tertullian. in securing eggs that are fresh. Real Grievances. The way I wrote it,” said the young Iran, who was leaning over the railing, red with mortification and outraged feelings, “was that the young men of the Highupanup club would hold a bowling contest at their club oom this evening.” 4 “Well?” said the city editor. “The way it was printed in your pa- per this morning was that the young men of the Highupanup club would held a ‘howling contest, sir.”—Chicago ‘Tribune, Baltimore, Feb.—The story sent out from Chicago that General Passenger Agent Austin, of the Baltimore and Ghio Rail Road, had reported rate eut- ting, on the part of rival lines, to the Receivers, is strenuously denied at b. and ©. headquarters. Mr. Austin, in 2 letter, absolutely denies that any such eases bave come under his notice, and denounces the report as a “fake,” pure and simple. Politeness, Excessi Customer—lI haven't any change with me this morning; will you trust me for a postage stamp until to-morrow? Drug Clerk—Certainly, Mr. Jones. Customer-—But suppose I should get killed or— Drug Clerk —Pray don't speak of it, Mr. Jone: he loss would be but a trifle-—Chicago News. Chicago Creat Western. The earnings of the Chicago Great Western Railway “Maple Leaf Route,’ for the month of January, 1809, show an increase of $76,617.84. ‘Total m- crease since beginning of fiscal year (July 1st) to date, $257,085.49. It was a wise arrangement on the part of our forefathers to assemble congress after Thanksgiving than be- fore it. Cakes Without Eggs. Observing housekeepers quickly learn that Dr. Price’s Cream Baking Powder is far superior to all other brands from the fact that its use always insures the finest, daintiest and most wholesome pastry, and if they wish to be economical they can dispense entirely with eggs and use a much less quantity of butter for shortening purposes. The advantage is not alone the saving effected, but the avoiding of trouble and the frequent difficulty Cakes of every kind from the informal Griddle to the stately Bride Cake can be made with Dr. Price’s Cream Baking Powder thus insuring their being light and delicious. When used in ot Griddle Cakes they can be produced in the shortest space of time> and are always tender and delicious, and may be eaten hot with impunity by dyspeptics and persons with weak digestions, Cakes of other kinds made with Dr. Price’s remain moist and sweet for a much longer time than if any other baking powder is used. Nothing so decisively settles the superiority of Dr. Price’s over all other baking powers as the bestowal upon it of the Highest Medal and Diploma by the World’s Columbian Exposition (Chicago, 93) and the Special Gold Medal and Diploma by the California Mid- winter International Exposition (San Francisco, 94),