The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1885-10-24

of fellows, those Russians, and the way in
which they take care not to over exert them
selves at fire is enough to drive an English
man.wild. Yet there were some few who
worked well, and one fellow in particular, L
noticed, ragged fellow, a beggar l took him
to be, who really worked splendidly, and in
way that ought to have made many OF
those whose daily bread depended on the ex-
istence of the mill ashamed of themselves.
What between the apathy of those lazy
scoundrels generally, and want of water, it
was soon plain that the sheds which were on
fire could not be saved, and that what we had
to look to was the mill itself. The danger of
the main building was increasing every mo-
ment, for the fire was beginning to make its
way along the shingled roof of which l
spoke.
1 could see what had to be done-those
shingles had to be stripped off. | had lad
der reared against the building, and called
for volunteers to mount it. The height OF
that roof from the ground was considerable,
and the fire was every moment getting more
and more hold upon it, To strip off the
shingles would be a hard job and hot one,
and it is not to be denied, dangerous one.
Not one of those cold-blooded rascals who
had eaten our bread for years would come
forward. / stood at the foot or the ladder,
and told them L was going up myself. 1 Of
fered twenty roubles-ffty roubles-to any
man who would help me. But it was of no
use.
Sust when was about to mount alone, the
ragged stranger fellow, whom 1 had before
observed working so vigorously, came run
ming up. He had been too busy in another
place to know what was going forward soon
er. That was scarcely time for taking any
ticular notice of peoples looks, yet had an
impression that he was not altogether a
stranger to me.
He looked up to the roof. The delay of
those few minutes had given fearful advan-
tage to the fire. "There is death up there"
he said; sis saving this mill so uery impor-
tant to your"
eff it is burned l am beggar. Every ko-
peck l am worth is in it. A hundred rou-
bles if you will help me save itH'
eve can talk of the reward afterward," he
said, as he sprang past me and up the ladder
like cat.
/ was following, too eagerly, perhaps, to be
careful, and | am heavy man. A round
broke, and down came, with knee so much
twisted that l could scarcely stand. 1t was
no longer in my power to climb to the roof.
But from where propped myself against
wall, 1 could see that ragged fellow, who
was up and doing enough for three or four
ordinary men. You should have seen how
he sent the shingles rafting down. Seen
from below, he seemed at times to be work
ing with fire all round him, but he went on
without Winding it, Inever saw an English
mrn-let alone Russian-g0 to it with bet
ter will l heard the people round me say
that he worked more like fiend than NOR
tai man-and so he did. He handled the
burning wood as though his fingers had been
iron instead of flesh and bone, and scarcely
seemed to shrink from the flames that bcazed
up round his face He never appeared to
rest or stay for breath till he had succeeded
in cutting off communication between the
fire and the mill.
l made the men below set the ladder as
handily as they could for him to get down,
and he did his best to reach it. But he must
have been quite used up, besides being pref
ty much blinded and suffocated with the
smoke. Anyway, he lost his footing, and
down he went through the rafters, and
crashed among the burning rubbish below.
1t was an ugly fall.
We got him out as well as we could; and
such scorched, smoke-blackened, smashed
up copy of Gods image, should never wish
to see again. But he was still alive, and to
the proposal to carry him straight to the hos
pital, said, "No; take him into my house."
So they took him in.
After we had got the fire quite under, and
made all safe about the mill limped to the
side of the bed where they had laid the poor
fellow He had come round bit by that
time. He tried to open his eyes, but it
seemed to me that the fire and smoke had
not left him much power of seeing with
them. He spoke, however, more distinctly
than might have been expected, and his first
question was whether the mill was safe.
/ told him that owing to his pluck it was.
/ was surprised to find that he recognized my
voice. and still more when he named my
name ''You do not know me, /" he said-and,
indeed, it was not likely that any one should
know such crushed and shapelesS mass of
cinder as he was-"You do not know me-
Feodor Stepanovitch. They caught me, and
took me back. 1 knew you when you spoke
to me in the street, but dared not answer,
lest they should suspect you of having be-
friended me. have escaped from them
again, and am going home to Ivanova. l
must see my wife and that villain Makaroff."
He lay while, and then added: ST am
glad was here to help you tonight. | am
glad they did not take me again before l got
here. I do not think the politza will take me
again"
And they did not; for he was dead within
an hour of that time.
That sir, is the end of my story of Sibe
riak. Do you happen to have light handy;
for, somehow, have let my pipe out? And,
bless me, my pipe-bowl is quite wet. | be-
lieve I'm crying, What a child / am!