Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1859-03-09
THE GUNMAKER OF MOSCOW.
A Tale Of the Empire under Peter the Great.
CHAPTER +.

winter, and towards the chose of the seven |
teenth century. Russia is the scene.
In lhe suburbs of Moscow, and very near |
the river Moskwa, stood an humble cot, which |
betrayed a neatness of arrangement and show |
of taste that more than made Up for its small |
ness of size. Back of the cot was an artisan's |
shop, and other out-buildings. The shop was |
devoted to the manufacture OF fire arms, most
ly. Some swords, and other edged weapons,
were made here upon special application.
The master of this tenement was the hero of
our tale, Ruric Newell. We find him standing
by his forge, watching the white smoke as it
curled up towards the throat of the chimney.
He was young man, not over three-and-twen-
ty, and possessed frame of more than ordi-
nary symmetry and muscular development.
He was not large-not above a medium size
but a single glance at the swelling chest, the
broad shoulders, and the sinewy ridges of the
bare arms, told at once that he master of
great physical power. His father had been
killed in the late war with the Turks, and the
son, leaving his mother with sufHciency OF
sustenance, went to Spain soon after the be-
reavement. There he found work in the most
noted armories; and now, we'll versed IN the
trade, he had returned to his native city to
follow his calling, and support his mother.
Near by stood a boy-Paui Peepof-a bright
intelligent lad, some fifteen years of age, who
had bound himself to the gunmaker for the
purpose of learning the art.
looking woman, and the light of her still hand
some countenance was never brighter than
when gazing upon her boy. She had a thank
full, loving heart, and a prayerful, hopeful
soul.
ssIt is showing again. faster than ever,'' re-
marked Paul, he took his seat at the sup
per table, in company with the others.
sAh," returned Ruric, resting his knife a
few moments while he bent his ear to listen to
the voice of the storm. 81 had hoped 'twould
snow no more for the present. The snow is
deep enough now. And how it blows!''
':Never mind,'' spoke the dame, in trust
full, easy tone, SIT must storm when it listeth,
and we can only thank God that we have shell
ter, and pray for those who have none.'
s'Amen - responded Ruric, fervently.
The meal was at length eaten, and the table
set back, and shortly Afterwards Paul retired
TO his bed.
Ruric drew his chair close up to the fire.
place, and leaning against the jam he bowed
his head in absorbing thought. This had be-
habit with him of late. His mother
having observed these fits of abstraction, be-
came uneasy and pressed Ruric to tell her
what it was over which he was constantly
and so moodily brooding. Being thus urged,
Buric confessed that it was of Rosalind Valdai
(the orphan daughter of nObleman, and now
the ward of Olga, the powerful and naughty
Duke of Tula) he was thinking. Ruric:s IA
ther, and the father of Rosiland, had been
comrades in arms in their youth, and their
children had been playmates. But when the
elder Newell was slain in battle, Ruric was yet
boy, and the widow and her son remained
poor and obscure; while Valdai, more fortu-
nate, had risen to a high rank, and dying, left
Rosalind title and fortune.
The young people, however, had not forgot
ton each other. Ruric loved Rosiland with all
the fervor of bis being, ard he felt assured
that Rosiland returned his love. AS he and
H.
stormy night, loud knock upon the outer
door startled them.
ssIs there any one here % the gunmaker
asked, as he opened the door, bowling his head
and shielding his eyes from the driving snow
with one hand.
"Yes," returned voice from the Stygian
darkness sin Gods name let me in, or
shall perish.''
ssThen follow quickly said Ruric. ssHere
give me your hand. There-now Gomez
The youth found the thickly- -gloved hand
gloved with the softest fur-and having led
the invisible applicant into the hall he closed
the door, and then led the way to the kitch-
en-. Without speaking, Ruric turned and gaz-
ed upon the newcomer The stranger, tcho
.ras equally desirous Of GsceTfaiHing lChGt man
ner af man Ruric rras, was monk-and habi-
ted something like one of the Black monks OF
St. Michael. He was of medium hight, and
possessed rotundity of person which was
comical to behold.
At length. after warming himself by the
FIRE, the guest asked if be could be accommo-
dated with some sleeping place, and being an
swered in the affirmative, Ruric showed him
10 a chamber and then retired himself.
The next morning. after breakfast, the Monk
went to Ruric to his shop, and examined with
much interest the various weapons therein.
Ruric questioned him closely as to whether he
had ever met him before, but the Monk re-
piled evasively, and after saying that in case
the gunmaker should ever, in any great euer-
gency, need friend, that he might apply 10
him, he took his leave
Towards the middle OF the afternoon. Just
as Rurie had finished tempering some parts of
a gun-lOek, the back door of his shop was o.
pened, and two men entered. They were
young men, dressed in costly furs, and both of
them stout and good-lookiag. The gunmaker
recognized them as the Count Conrad Damon
off and his friend Stephen Urzen.
'I think speak with Ruric Newell" said
the Count, moving forward.
'fou do" returned Ruric, not at all sur
prised by the visit, since people of all classes
were IN the habit of calling at his place to or
der arms.
'tYou are acquainted with the Lady Rosi-
lind Ealdai ~ he said
"l am,' answered Ruric, now beginning to
wonder.
<'WeH, sir,'' resumed Damonof. with ropcb
haughtiness, ssperhaps my business can he
quickly and satisfactorily settled. Itismv
desire to make the Lady RosiIand my wife,
Ruric Newell started at these words, and he
clasped his hands to hide their tremulous
ness. But he was not long debating upon al
answer.
ssAnd why have you come to me with thi
information, sir 7'' he asked.
ssRuFic Newell, you shall not say that die
not make myself fully understood, and hence
/ will explain.'' The Count spoke this a: