Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-12-28
THE GUNMAKER OF MOSCOW.
TALE OF
TIE EMpIRsuNDER PETER THE GREAT
CHAPTER I.
THE GUNMAKER AND THE MONK.
A TALE OF

midwinter, and towards the close of the sew
enteenth century. Russia had passed
through the long and bitter ordeal of ma
tional Night. The Tartar yoke had been
worn till the very bones of the nation were
CALLED; and when this was thrown off civil
dissensions and instructions commenced.
The Poles and Swedes plundered the coun-
try, and amid general tumult and confusion
some half dozen men were clamoring for the
throne. At length a few patriotic citizens,
pledging everything they held dear on earth
to the cause of freedom from this curse of
anarchy, and headed by noble prince and
an humble, patriotic butcher, made bold
stand to save the country. Moscow was re-,
taken, and Michael Romanoff was chosen
czar and this illustrious family still occu-
pies the imperial throne. And now the day
of Russian greatness dawned; but the sun
was not fairly up--the broad light opened
not upon the empire-until Peter came to
the throne.
In the department of the Sloboda-the
suburbs of Moscow-and very near the river
Moskwa, stood an humble cot, the exterior
of which betrayed a neatness of arrange
ment and show of taste that more than
made up for its smallness of size. Nor was
it so very small in fact, but only in contrast;
for near at hand about it stood many large,
shabby, dirty-looking structures that over
looked the prim cot, as bleak mountains
may look down upon a verdant hill. And
within, this cot was as neat as without. The
two apartments in front, one of which was
only used in winter, were furnished not only
with neatness, but with a fair show of orna
meut and luxury. Back of these were a
large cooking and diningroom, and two
small bedrooms; and back still from these
was an artisans shop, and other out-build-
ings. This shop was devoted to the manu-
facture of firearms, mostly. Some swords,
and other edged weapons, were made here
upon special application.
The gunmaker now stood by his forge,
watching the white smoke as it curled up
the throat of the chimney. He was young
man, not over three-and- twenty, and pos
sessed frame Of more than ordinary SYM
metry and muscular development. He was
not large-uot above medium size-but a
single glance at the swelling chest, the
broad shoulders, and the slnewy ridges
Of the bare arms, told at once
that lie was master of great physical
|,
yet strongly marked, and erninently hand
some: his brow, which was full and high,
was hslf covered by the light brown curls
that waved over it; while his eyes, which
were of bright, brilliant, deep cray in color,
lent cast OF genius to the intellect of the
brow. His name was Rurick Newell. His father
had been killed in the late war with the
Turks, and the son leaving his mother with a
S,;1 &c b.
after the bereavement There he found work
in the most noted armorles; and now, well
versed in the trade, he had returned to his
native city to follow his calling, and support
his mother.
Near by stood a boy--Paul Peepon-a
bright, intelligent lad, some fifteen years of
age, who had bound himself to the gun
maker for the purpose of learning the art
His hair and his eyes were darker than his
masters, and If he possessed not so much
sound intellect, he did surely possess al un-
wonted degree of keen, quick wit, and a
principle of answering integrity.
The sun had been some time below the ho-
rizon, and the only light of any consequence
that made things partially visible within the
shop came from the dull blaze of the GOALS
On the forge, as Paul ever and anon bore
down upon the brake that moved the bel
lows Suddenly Ruric started back from the
forge as his mind broke from the deep rev.
erie into which he had fallen, and having
bade his boy to see that matters were all
properly disposed for the night, he turned
towards the door and was soon in the kitchen,
where his mother had supper all prepared
and setiout.b
Claudia Newell was noble looking woman,
and the light of her still handsome counte-
nance was never brighter than when gazing
upon her boy. She had seen the SHOWS of
fifty winters, and if they had left some sill
upon her head, and some age-marks up
on her face, the sunshine of as many sum-
mers had left her with thankful, loving
heart, and prayerful, hopeful soul.
sit is showing again, faster than ever"
remarked Paul, as he took his seat at the
table,
'Ah,'' returned Ruric, resting his knife q
few moments while hs 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, cit must storm when it listeth,
and We can only thank God that we have
shelter, and pray for those who have none"
ACSooAOSA HullC, 1oTVeuLly.
After this the trio remained some minutes
silent, seeming to be busy in listening to the
storm notes that pealng about the
cot. The wind was high, and the snow now
camo dasEing upon the windows with a
dreary, melancholy sound. The meal was
Mt length eaten, and the table set back, and
shortly afterwards Paul retired to his bed.
1t was his wont to retire early, for he rose
betimes to build the fires and prepare for
the labors of the day.
kurlc drew his chair close up to the fire.
place, and leaning against the jam he bowed
his head and pondered again. This had be-
come habit with him of late. Sometimes
he would sit thus during whole hour with
out speaking, or even moving, and his
mother did not Interrupt him, as she sup
posed he might be solving some mechanical
problem that had arisen to bother him. But
these hts Of thought had become too fire.
quent, too lengthy, and too moody for such
hypothesis, and the good woman was fore
cd to bellows that they Were caused by some
thing more remote than the business of the
forge or the lathe. The youth now sat with
his brow resting upon his hand, and his
eyes bent upon the hearth. For half an
hour he had not moved, and his face wore
an anxious, troubled look.
'Knrlc, my son. spoke the mother, at
length, in 8 low, kind tone, "what is it that
occupies your thoughts 50 much?''
The young man started and turned his
gaze npon his mother.
did you speak to me, mother?' he ask
ed after having recalled his mind to things
about him.
YES. my boy she said. 81 did speak to
you. asked yo4 what it was that occupied
your thoughts"
AS she spoke thus she moved her seat
close to |hero Ruric sat, and placed her
hand upon hia arm.
TColI,