The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1877-09-29
In Black Russia.

What good wind, what wind OF fortune, has
blown you to US here in Russia?"
Such were the words which reached my
ears, as a gloved grasp was suddenly said
railway platform at Minsk. turned to find
myself confronted by the smiling face of
DemetTius Vassili, a Russian whom / had
known for some three or four years at st.
Petersburg, Paris, and wherever diplomat
lists and birds of passage congregate. He,
this well-whskered, glib-tongued Vassili, be-
longed to both categories, since, when l first
knew him in the Cars capital, he was
professor of the university, while in Paris he
was an underling of the Russian embassy,
and at Madrid a gentleman at large.
confess that did not much like Deme-
trius Vassili, though was more than half
ashamed of my prejudice, for the man was
friendly, almost too oStentatiously so; was
polite, genial, and one of those amiable per-
sons who are always taking our good opinion
by storm, as it were, by the graceful render
ing of some little service or other. Vassili,
when l was raw lad new TO the continent,
had been kind to me once or twice, and |
had repaid his good nature by taking his part
when others spoke evil of him in a vague
way behind his back, for he was not popular
somehow. There he was, at any rate, and
evidently delighted to see me.
'By the byP' abruptly put iu my old ac-
to congratulate you, have l not? 1t is true
that you are about to marry the beautiful
Mile. Marie, daughter of Count Constantine
Orloff, the young lady who at Madrid, when
was there, broke all hearts ?"
1t was true that was betrothed to Marie
Orloff; indeed, was on my way then to her
fathers mansion, at which it had been ar
ranged that should be guest until the
wedding should take place, according to both
ho ich OF
Petersburg. Our engagement had come
about in this wise: l. Arthur Musgrave, as
an attache OF our legation at Madrid, had
been thrown much into the society of the
daughter of the Russian envoy, had learned
to love her, and had been lucky enough TO
teach her to love me. My chief difficulty
was with the count, who was at first very
much annoyed and dspleased. Russia
youngest of nations-has an aristocracy that
in pride and pretension rivals the "bue
bood' of Spain, and every Muscovile noble
is convinced that the English are, as Napo-
leon called US, nation of shopkeepers, quite
unfit to mate with their own upper classes.
fortunately for me, however, was heir 10
an entalled property, small, indeed, but the
rent-roll OF which seemed respectable III con-
tinental eyes; while was able to convince
Count Orloff that my border ancestry had
driven off Scottish cattle and ridden in war
den raids, at time when his own iorefathers
were probably unbaptized Tartars, for it is
curious fact that the titled families of Russia
are Georgian, Tartar, German, Swedish, any
thing but Russian.
All now was happily settled, and. as l
have SAID, was on my way to my future
father-in-law's country chateau, summer
residence in the lake district of Ostaschkoi,
near Tever on the upper Voga. The counts
estates lay chiefly ia that neighborhood, aud
he had lately been appointed, by one Of
those abrupt transitions from one service TO
another (Which are common under the
Cars rule), governor of the province.
gBut what chance, NJ Vassili, brings YOU
herep' | asked when we had shaken hands.
81 heard of you last as in Rome"
"Here to-day, there to-mOrrog," answered
Vassili airily. 81 have been in Asia lately.
shall be at Wilma to morrow. and in ST.
Petersburg next week. l serve master who
has dealings in far-away places"
"You mean the Emperor" I enquired,
and the Russian nodded with look of good
humored mystery. At this moment up
came porter to tell me, cringingly, that my
exeellency must, he feared, be content to
wait six hours or more for train. There
had been movement of troops toward Po-
land, disordering the company's arrange
ments, and taking up the rolling stock.
"The Emperor's orders, noble gospodin,"
he added, with deprecatory. shrug, as he saw
my veXed face.
Then Demetrius chimed in. His train,
too, had been delayed by the concentration
of troops on the Polish frontier. He, too,
had some hours to spend at Minsk. He had
ordered dinner at the Black Eagle, hard by.
The landlord knew him well, and would
serve up tolerable repast. Would 1 be
charitable and share what would otherwise
be solitary meal?
Vassili gave me a good dinner, and we lin
ain nd oh
ting of other scenes and old times. Then, at
length, word was brought that the train for
wilma was in sight.
SNOW, think OF it," said my host, in his
careless way, son your road to the counts
chateau you will pass Staritza-yesr' be add
ed, glancing at the open map that lay before
me on the table; "of course you will, and
change horses there, wish, if it be not to
much to ask, that you would kindly give
message from me to the village priest, or
papa, there-Pope John Perovich."
II will with pleasure" replied, Shut re-
member my Russian is not very fluent
and presume the priest talks no French"
Vassal laughingly assured me that the
words were lew and simple, and suggested
that should pencil them, from his dictation,
on slip of paper which he pushed towards
me. These were the words of the message:
s'Your SOM "(our clergy marry, you know,
like the lalty," interjected Demetrius) "has
been Ill, but take comfort. He is doing well
now. and if he acts promptly. with the bless
ing of the Panagia, will succeed. He sends
his love, faith and duty"
Il saw the Pope's son." explained Demet.
rius, "the other day at Odessa. Young Cyril
is corn dealer and hay merchant, pushing.
speculative fellow, but as honest as the day.
He was recovering from fever, but hoped to
fill his purse by buying up all the-ah there
is the railwayswhstle, so we must be quick!
You'll do my errand, then, deaf Arthur, will
you not, and gladden. the heart of the good
old man ?"
1t was not until long after Vassali and l
had parted that it occurred to me to wonder
why he should have charged me with such a
message. 1t would have been simpler, sure
ly, and more speedy as means OF commu-
nlcatlng with Pope John, to have relied on
the post. But then these rustic priests were
ignorant, and possibly the eyes of the papas
were not very well accustomed 10 deeipher-
ing manuscript. AT any rate, 1 would make
point of executing the commission.
''Pope John, English lord?" said the inn
keeper, Staritza, taltering, as [ asked for
guide to show me the way to the parsonage.
while the slow postillions were embarrassing,
in the tardy fashion III which work is done In
Russia, the tired horses from the carriage.
Certainly said l, observing his embar-
rassment. SIS the priest i'll? or what is
there surprising in travellers inquiIing for
him?'
Tue landlord bowed obsequioQsy.
"You'll find the papa il good health, noble
gospoden," he said IN sugared accents.
"Yonder is the parsonage, with the white
gable.'
'ThenI want no guide to conduct me
there" said 1, laughing, and at once walked
across to the garden gate. A neat, snug lit
tie dwelling was the parsonage, with its
white walls, its tiny garden full of humble
pot-herbs and hardy flowers, and the sacred
pigeons cooling softly as they summed them
selves upon its red-eaved root. An i'll look
ing fellow opened the door in answer to my
summons, scanned mea narrowly, and, as i
thought, with suspicion, and after some col
loquy conducted me 10 what guessed, by the
few books and many pictured saints on the
wall, to be the priests study. Ten minutes
elapsed, and then in came the master of the
house, Pope John.
''Forgive me, noble sir, if have kept YOU
waiting said the priest, with as low bow
as he could have executed in the presence of
his bishop. "You bring me news, l am told,
of my dear son?'