Middletown transcript., 1882-01-20

how seldom had he sOftened into ca
resses OF shown her his heart. If hi
had made her love him she could moi
have left him thus. So after long
weeks of loneliness his life seemed tt
centre into one object-to find hel
again. All his inquiries so far had
been in vain =; but he would go out him
self !; and what could elude a fathers
vigilance !? He had waited with q
vague hope that she would come back
to him. A girl of eighteen only, how
could she battle with life =? But the
slow days came and went, and she made
no sign, and at last the Count Semilof
went forth with hope in. his heart-a
hope that failed day by day. For the
days grew into months and the months
to years-yes, four years-and he had
not heard from her, not one word.
So as a balm for an aching heart, the
count threw himself into hard work.
His old prejudiees grew strong again,
and with the vigor of young man he
took up a service for the Gar: secret
service that needed fidelity, courage
and even recklessness of life. And
who was so Indifferent to life as the
Count Semiloff, the last Of his line save
for the unnatural daughter who had
forsaken him in his old age? What
did the few remaining years hold for
him, that he should be careful to pre-
serve them. Nay, he was ready to fling
them away, if by so doing he could
render a service to his master. There
fore, he gave himself up to ferreting
out the creatures who were plotting
against that masters life, and the we'll
being Of all Russia, according to his
convictions.
1t was with peculiar sensations of
triumph, therefore, he read one day an
anonymous note that some one had left
for him.
" Whereas the Count Semiloff's vigi-
lance for the Gar is well known, an
opportunity is now offered for the de-
feat of Nihilist plot of the first mag
nitude, and the arrest, among others,
Of a certain Sophie Posenski, who is a
powerful member of the party. This
woman has for two years been a leader
and an influence in the band-the most
subtle, the most dangerous to all lovers
Of peace and order. She has an infatu-
alton, an insanity, it might be called,
to redress wrongs she is eloquent, and
sways mems minds at will she is beau
tiful, and she rules mems hearts she
is the most malignant enemy the Gar
can find, and you can deliver her into
his hand. Be at the Borsoff Ware
house tomorrow night at ten O'Clock.
The watchword is Public Safety , the
place, a cellar under the first house,
The count felt sudden enthusiasm
for his work greater even than he had
ever experienced before. All if he
could but seize this woman of whom he
had heard much, but whom he had nev-
er been able to see or trace before-if he
could deliver her into the hands of JUS
tice, then indeed he might be able to
say, "Amen" to his weary life.
Somehow he had conceived an intense
hatred against this Sophie Posenski-
this arch-traitress, as he thought her,
who led men into treason with smiles,
and made them willing to cast their
lives away for word of praise. No
stain had ever sullied her name, yet it
pleased him to think of her as a Circe
who lured men to their ruin-a Messa-
lima
g Whose hands were blood-stained, tho as
white
As craven snow or winter frost,
Red with the souls deceived and LOST
And thrill of triumph came over
him as he thought that he was to be the
instrument Of delivering Russia from
this curse. Siberia would be the place
for this ardent, soaring soul. In the
the object of his wrath, un-
of her danger, but knowing
that she walked amid ceaseless dangers
traps, and plots, and pitfalls-was
ready for the meeting. Her
toilet was simple, as befts a woman
sworn to belong to the cause of the peo-
ple-the poor, the downtrodden and op-
pressed-yet her beauty bloomed through
all, as a rose might do in neglected
garden. Her hair was cut short, that
no time might be wasted in its arrange
ment, but it disposed itself in bewitch-
ing little infantile curls all over her
head, and low down on her broad, white
forehead. The face was full of force,
the mouth impressive-b it looked as
if it might be eloquent of love and pas
sion as well-and the dark-blue eyes
that could flash in scorn at an ignoble
action, or anger at tyranous act, were
soft and limpid now with memories.
Her room was plain and bare as a cell.
She was one of the workers, and her
slim fingers were hardened with toll
but she did not grieve over that. A
strange enthusiasm filled her heart she
was living for purpose, and that is the
secret of happiness. Once in while
there came up before her suddenly, as
if some one held up portrait, the men,
ory Of face she had seen at the meet
ings lately-a new member who seemed
to hang upon her words, yet whose eyes
betrayed a sort of animosity-she could
find no other word for it. Sometimes
it seemed as if hatred and love struggled
together in their expression, and she
had felt cold, creeping sensation as she
caught the glance.
She had grown somehow to look for
his coming, and his presence affected
her in an inexplicable manner. 1t
seemed to touch some chord of memory,