The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1874-05-09
THE FATE OF THE SPY.

An ominous silence reigned over Sc
bastopol. Not gun or a screetchine
shell disturbed the painful silence,
which, to imaginative minds, produced
feeling of uneasiness and ave- 1
only a captain, was on outpost duty,
with a revolver in hand, ready for any
emergency. Cautioning my men to re-
port the most trivial stir that might
catch their ears, l ordered them to lie
down under cover of some thorny
shrubs.
After some time, | was in the act OF
rising from my concealed position
when a muffied footstep caught my ear
| knew not why, but the blood rushed
impetuously through my veins
CHANGING over my shoulder, the figure
of man rose mysteriously before me-
| He was mutf1ed to the chin; over his
shoulder was white something, which
in my hurried glance | took to be the
skin of some animal. Evidently who
| discovered me. His steps were bent
toward Sebastopol.
Lord abovel" [ mentally gasped,
'what if this wretch should be one OF
those systematic spies, which are to be
found i'll all armies.
| My foretinger instinctively sought
the trigger of my revolver. One course
L was determined upon, at all hazards,
this mysterious figure should not
escape me. On it came gliding, SO to
say, more like the movement of ser
pent than man. Showing as it was,
and with the shadows of night falling
fast and thick, there was a something
which struck me that / had seen this
ghost-hke parsonage before. But
where That was a question that at
that moment was most difficult to solve.
Gradually | rose from behind thorny
with my revolver.
"Who comes there ?" said ener-
getically.
A perceptible stare warned me that
at last | confronted 9, spy.
"Move hairs breadth, " said [, land
you are a dead man."
There was a sudden CLEAN OF dull
moonlight, and I IN my turn started.
The face, though partially concealed,
was familiar.
''Great heavens! I exclaimed, "Lt.
Brown of our. S"
Ere [ could rightly recover, the fig
ure glided past me. | fired, and called
loudly upon the outposts to shoot him
down.
Crack Crack went the rifles.
" Escaped us, ! muttered, grinding
my teeth.
"And gone right into Sebastopol,"
growled the sergeant.
"Listen," said I. For Russian
sentinel that moment demanded field
cry or password. In vain we street ched
our ears to catch reply naught but
the icy wind Knocked us. | returned
to my hiding place full of thoughts.
full of suspicious.
Gould it be possible" ! asked my
self, that the figure was Lieutenant
Brown ?" They were certainly the
bushy whiskers, the full diabolical
face, and the thick figure Lieutenant
Brown, as ] knew well, was no favorite
in ours. He went by the cognomen of
" foreigner, yet he distinctively avow-
ed that he was English to the back
bone.
| remembered then that Lieutenant
Brown was clever at sketching | also
had seen him take notes, which | play
fully alluded to at the time, and in re-
spouse he informed meat dear rela-
tives' request-he kept diary. 1t was
strange. A tiplicity of
little occurrences rose up before me re-
speeding our foreigner. His absorbing
interest respecting any intended attack.
His studious silence before others re-
specting the disasters of the Russians,
and when in my hut, his eager inquiries
Is to how, and why, and the wherefore
If every trivial detail which occurred
n the camp.