The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1885-10-29

uOV cAdCVAy IcutuUer Tue particulars,
but, of course, there was woman in
the business; blows had passed, and
the ouvadnik had, by a false charge
procured Feeders condemnation to
Siberia for life. This, say. was his
story.
Feodor told me that his place of ex-
lie had been somewhere far up the
country; and of the seventies he had
had to endure, and of the tyranny of
officials, he spoke bitterly. After max
ing his escape, the privations and dan
gers he had undergone before reaching
Ekaterinburg were such as I should
, not have believed from his words, had
they not been verified by his appear
ance.
For Russian, he appeared to me to
be not unintelligent fellow, and I
pointed out to him the difficulties he
would find in making his way to Ivan
ova-a distance of not less than twelve
hundred versts from Ekaterinburg, as
the crow flies; and advised him, as he
was used to mill-work, to stay and find
employment where he was. I was
weak enough to offer to help him, and
see what could be done in the way of
getting passport for him. But the
fellow was bent on going forward. He
was resolved, he said, to see his family
again, and he was resolved to see Basil
Makaroff. This Makaroff was, found
the ouvadnik to whom Feodor attribu-
ted his troubles, and it seemed to me
that this particular laundering, to see
this person meant a craving to have
his revenge. l confess that when l
had learned this much, felt no desire
to detain my friend Feodor longer than
was necessary. l was glad to give
him something more decent in the way
of clothing than he had brought, and a
tritle in money to help him on his way,
and to be rid of him.
never expected to see him again,
nor wished to do so; and / was some
what startled when few weeks later,
among a gang of convicts which were
being marched by a guard of soldiers
out Of the town on their way eastward,
I recognized Stepanovitch. l was
standing close by when he passed, and
was so much surprised to see him, that
l somewhat imprudently, perhaps,
spoke to him by name. But, will you
believe it?-the ungrateful dog stared
me in the face, and marched sullenly
by without word or sign of recognition.
$50 much, - thought l, "for gratitude!''
Some months later. when the next
summer was getting we'll advanced, we
had one night an alarm of fire. Many
of the newer mills at Ekaterinburg are
of stone, but the main building of ours,
being comparatively old, was of wood.
1t was thing to blaze up like box of
matches. II was not, however, in the
main building that the fire had broken
out, but in some sheds connected with
the main building by a range of shop
ping. This last was stone-built. but as
i'll luck would have it, covered with
wooden shingles.
A good many people were soon got
together, mostly our own hands, and
directed and encouraged them as well
us could to get the fire under. But
they were stolid, heavy set 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
Englishman wild. Yet there were
some few who worked well, and one
fellow III particular, noticed, ragged
fellow, beggar l took him to be, who
really worked splendidly, and in a way
that ought to have made many of those
whose daily bread depended on the ex-
istence of the mill ashamed of them
selves.
What between the apathy of those
lazy scoundrals 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 moment
for the fire was beginning to make it's
way along the shingled roof of which [
spoke.
I could see what had to be done.
those shingles had to be stripped off.
l had a ladder 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 hard job, and
hot one, and it is not to be denied, a
dangerous one. Not one of those cold
blooded rascals who had eaten our
bread for years would come forward.
| stood at the foot Of the ladder, and
told them l was going up myself. I
offered twenty roubles-fifty roubles-
to any man who would help me. But
it was of no use.
Just when l was about to mount
alone, the ragged stranger-fellow,
! whom had before observed working
50 vigorously, came running up. He
bad been too busy in another place to
know what was going forward sooner
That was scarcely a time for taking
! any particular notice of peoples looks,
yet l had an impression that he was
not altogether stranger to me.
He looked up to the roof. The delay
of those few minutes had given q
fearful advantage to the fire. ''There
is death up THERE he said; ''is saving
this mill SO very important to you?'
If it is burned, I am a beggar.
! Every kopeck am worth is in it. A
hundred roubles if you will help me
save it!'
1--WE can talk of the reward after
ward,' he said, as he sprang past me
and up the ladder like cat.
was following, too eagerly, per-
haps, to be careful, and am a heavy
man. A round broke, and down I
came, with knee so much twisted
| that could scarcely stand. 1t was
no longer in my power to climb to the
roof.
But from where l propped myself
| against wall, 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 minding it. 1 never
saw an Englishman-let alone a
Russian-go to it with a better will.
[ heard the people round ME say that
he worked more like a fend than a
mortal 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 blazed
up round his face. He never appeared