Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-02-24
1aitp Nennebft yoarnal.
HARD PRESSED.

English lord -
The crisp shining snow cracked beneath
the hurrying feet OF the speaker. as, pant
ing and breathless, he came bursting
through the brushwood, and emerged from
the pine-copse into the road, not pistol
shot from the two pillars of red granite
brought from the Ural that decorated the
extremity OF the avenue leading 10 the
country house hard by. With some diff
Guilty the driver of the sledge-a tall, man
" young fellow, whose fair hair and ruddy
cheeks contrasted forcibly with the swarthy
sallowness and black elhocks of the Rus
sian moujik who had thus suddenly ac-
costed him-brought the fiery horses to
check.
'.Why, Isaac, my good friend" he said
smiling, "what news have you Tor me that
brooks no delay in the telling? Has some
bear killed man and does nobody dare
to traverse the forest road until l settle
scores with Bruin, with the aid OF brace
of leaden pills from the big rifle! Or
have you been SO unfortunate as to be
again at misunderstanding with the gems
d'armes? If SO, l.
"Excellency," interrupted the man with
q vehement earnestneSs which made itself
felt, II am here to-day to pay debt. We
Russians have memory tenacious OF
kindness, and the poor vagabond, Isaac
Pauloyitch, has not forgotten that but for
your intercession he would have tasted,
before this, of the black bread and the
knotted thong in Jitomir goal. I've run
to-day nineteen yersts through the snow
to warn you that the foreigner and the
gentleman who travels the Vasilko road
this night carries his life in his hand. !
knew you to be on visit at the Baron's
yonder. He's in no danger, but woe to
every castle from the Dnieper ferry to
Bog lslaw and Skudra, for they will be,
one and all, in light flame before moon
rise 70
..There is a rising, then, among the
serfs ?" asked the young Englishman,
eagerly. :,
s.There is" answered the man called
Isaac with nod. 1.-THE people of twenty
villages have sworn the great oath on the
Gospels to root out all these Sobieskis and
Jagelions, and the rest of the unbaptized
Polish Counts and Princes that wiring the
withers of the poor"
'.Do you mean Count Nicholas Galitizin,
of Czerngord ?" asked the young man,
growing pale as he spoke.
THAT do l." replied the moujik. "a
heavy account he'll have to settle, the
proud"
But before the sentence was concluded
the young Englishman had slackened the
reins of his impatient steeds, which darted
off at once, like arrows from the bow, and
to the ineffable surprise of the garrulous
Isaac, the whole equipage rapidly disap-
peared along the road leading to the very
district to which his warning had refer
ence.
In the course of a three years residence
in Southern Russia, Edgar Marston, who
was manager of the Land Bank at Vasil-
kof,-a post of trust to which he had been
appointed through the influence of rela-
tives of his, wealthy members of the Brit
ish Guild of merchants at St. Petersburg
had gained thorough insight into the
condition of the province in which he lived,
and knew the bitter hate which the Ruthe-
owners, most of whom were Polish mobiles
who had won their estates when Poland
was q wide-spreading kingdom. He
knew, too. that Count Galitzin was per-
soually obnoxious to his late vassals for a
hundred arbitrary acts and petty exac-
tons, and he trembled lest he should not
reach the lonely manor house in time to
give warning to its inmates of the ap-
preaching evil.
sand Annette is there ~ said the young
man to himself half unconsciously, as he
encouraged the melted horses to do their
best. Yes. that was the secret of Edward
Marston's eagerness to give timely notice
of the coming storm to those beneath the
roof of the Galitzin Castle. He had fallen
deeply in love with the Counts young and
pretty daughter-the Countess Annette,
as she was called in compliance with that
courtly Russian rule which bestows titles
upon all the members of an aristocratic
family-and he knew that his love was re-
ciprocated. He had, indeed, been formerly
on terms of intimacy with Count Galitzin's
household, although, on proposing himself
as sutton for Anniette's hand, he had
been met by decided refusal.
Count Galitzin, whose large but ill-cul-
tivated estate lay on the bank of the Borys-
themes, but few miles from Vasilkof, and
who owed money to the financial corpora
ton of which Marston was the reprenta-
tive. had other views for his daughter than
to bestow her on young foreigner who
was neither rich nor titled, and the visits
of Edgar, formerly welcome guest at
Czerngorod, had for some time wholly
ceased. He was, however, aware that
Annette. with her parents, had for several
weeks past been residing at the chateau,
and his first impulse was to hurry thither
to preserve her whom he loved from the
blind vengeance of the half-barbarous
serfs now on the eve of revolving.
The short winters day was nearly spent,
and when Edgar reached the outskirts OF
the village of Czerngorod, the sun had
sunk beneath the black screen of sullen
pine-trees that marked the boundary of
the forest while through those trees glared
an ominous ruddy light, and shouts, shots
and roar as OF an excited crowd came
confusedly to the ear.
Heaven help them the castle must be
already on fire !" exclaimed the young
man, as he saw tall column of smoke,
streaked by fiery showers Of sparks and
burning flakes, rise high in the air.
"What. by this. may be the fare of those
within !"
His apprehensions were, however, des-
tined to be promptly relieved, since, as
he drove past the low boundary fence of
l.