Saint Paul weekly Minnesotian. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1858-1859, 1859-02-26
THE HANGING GUEST.
A RUSSIAN STORY.

VI,
at some distance from the high road, stands
a wooden country house, with green and
antiquated roof Here usually throughout
the summer and sometimes, too, in autumn
resides Gaurila Michailowitch P, retired
captain and at present district7justice, very
worthy man, as are all the district, justices in
the va department
Early one Sunday morning, in the month o1
| August, -, his worship, Gaurila MichailO-
with, with his honored lady, .Parskovya
Yegorvan, set off for the city, in britschka,
to transact sundry urgent matters Of bust
ness-viz, to 60 to church, to drink with his
reverence and protopope, to eat and be con-
vivial with the district attorney, to hear the
| town news from the cemmandant's lady, to
read the St Petersburg papers at the district
treasurer's, and to play boston at the govern
or's. Scarcely had the master and mistress
driven from their door, when all tk servants
followed their example, and Quilted the house.
The butler went to see his cousin in the VII
lase the cook betook himself to the public
house to drink brandy the cook maid to the
river to catch craw6sh Procher and Daria
l went nutting in the woods Vaska and Ma
| tasha strayed to the heath to gather cranber-
berries, &c; Duna alone remained in the house
Duna, the pearl of the whole va de-
partment, sprightly, yirtuous damsel ; by
her calling house-maid by her natural
good qualities, the favorite of her mistress
| the goddess for whose sake the governor 8
vslet-who, like herself, had been brought up
| in the great world in the Nevska Perspective;
neglected the polishing of his masters boots,
| to the great scandal and indignation of the
whole provincial administration none but he
could appreciate her feelings none but she
could duly estimate the grace of her deport-
ment They mutually adored each other, as
only hearts can adore that have taken fire by
the Kasan Bridge in St. Petersburg, and they
were as happy as none can be but in the
country.
Girl shut up in house by themselves are
always afraid of thieves. Duna, therefore,
| carefully fastened the outer doors, and to a.
| void thinking of thieves, she went to look at
herself in the glass while she waited for the
| valet, whom she had given to understand
that her master and mistress were to spend
the whole day in town. In the pleasantest
| possible mood, Duna arranged her curls, set
her neckerchief in order, frightened her girdle,
and hummed tune, when suddenly there
was gentle tap at the door, "That's him p
and like an arrow, she flew and opened it to
let him in. " All it is not he I" -'.-
81 am your man." replied deep husky
voice, as there cautiously entered through
the open door big-built fellow, in latter
ed frieze cloak and faded cap, with swarthy
face much In want of the barber's Office, ter
ribly foxy moustaches, and dusky rednose,
| and scarlet forehead, blue lips, and blood
| thirsty eyes the very type of the chairman
! of city pot house, or one of those diabolical
figures that are only to be seen in Salvador
Rosa's paintings.
The astonished Duna recoied some steps,
and repeated with sigh from the bottom of
her heart, "Is it not he ~ Meanwhile stran-
ger had stepped in, and with the utmost cool
ness closed the door again, locked it, and put
the keyin his pocket.
What do you wantg Who are you ?"
cried Duna. "Why do you put the key in
your pocket"
Don't be alarmed, my little DEAR" he
said smiling. 81 lam come to pay you visit
The time must have hung heavily on your
hands, all alone here"
mot at all. But what do you mean by
pocketing the key?"
Instead of answering, he went up to her,
| and patted her on the cheek. She sprang
from him.
"Why do you lock the door? Give me
the key, or willc out"
:" That will do you no good. know very
well there is no one in the house."
| "a pretty thing indeed ? Come in, with
out. with your lcave," or by your leave
and lock the door asif you were in your own
house ~
81 always lock the door when have the
luck to be alone with so pretty girl as you,
my angel !" and once more be patted her
cheek with his big coarse, dirty hand
The angry Duna then retreated into cor
| ner.
"But who are you? 1t is very unhandsome
so it is, to make fun of girl, and tease her so
without any acquaintance" -.
81 never visit acquaintances," he replied,
with an altered look, and tone that froze the
poor girls blood.
In every ante-chamber and chancery Office,
Duna bore the reputation of girl Of spirit.
She was no easy conquest. Many q presump-
tuous clerk had felt the print of her nails in
his face to that degree that he was not like
ly to forget it, though he should live to be a
master chancery Duna, in fact, did honor
to the virtue of St. Petersburg But a BASH
full provincial chancery clerk, with his inky
fingers, is a trifle to a girl who has been
| brought up in the best milliner's shop in the
| Nevska Perspective; an unshaved, broad
shouldered, ugly vagabond, in a frieze cloak,
with red mousacthes and a violet nose, is
quite different sort of thing, and enough to
| fighten anybody. Duna began to cry.
Don't cry, my little duck l won't do you
any harm, he said, in softer tone as he drew
near her. Now, this softer tone alarmed her
even more, and she invountarlly stretched
| out her arms to keep him off. ill.,
"Who are you, I say ?" she cried, in des-
pair, but with an assumption of courage, with
4 fire, that was gradually extinguished by her
gushing tears. You shall tell me on the
spot who are ~
"Who l am
"Yes, who you are? Your calling your
name ?" a.f tp .
"I am thief" ....
"a thief" she echoed, fateringly, turning
as white as snow. -
al am thief by name, and robber by
station" he said, with smile, and looking
tenderl y into her blue eyes; but the smile
on his face resembled the gastly glimmering of
moon upon the foul waters of the morase. -.
Duna was terrified (not at the phrase, but
at the smile, and cold tremor ran through
her frame but seeing that her visitor was
making sport of her uneasiness she rallied her
self little and cried out hurriedly, with a
tremulous voice, A robber Poh what
horrid life ?" -.
Every man to his calling. l had another
once; but now, say, my pretty lass, give
me something to eat. 1 have not bit in my
mouth these three days. We will breakfast
together, and them ..g
With sudden gesture he threw his arms
round her neck to kiss her. The sight ofh
bristly chin and formidable moustaches charg-
ing as fiercely upon her, the sight of his ugly
red roses that nearly touched her cheek, put
her in a downright passion; with all the
strength that makes heroes of us in moments
of extreme peril, she pushed the audacious fel-
low back. -'
Glands off if you please, Mr.. Robber =