Daily Yellowstone journal., 1889-08-03
A SECRET MEETING OF sxlLEs.
uow tae IaIiiots in siberia Hold Coun-
sci "Wo Have u Graveyard"

srl-"No Have u OriNelaru.'
One bg one the political convicts of
the I'sC command began 10 assemble
al Mis- Arn,eidt'S house. Every few
minute I'd low signal knock would be
hraw' no ugr 0t the window shutters
HHI 2Gp.oidt would 90 cautious
~ ,o E.is l.-lr, Inquire who was there,
auu HiuY sHistied that ii was of
U,rmf mFniunS would take down the
Ter Hl rive him admission. The
500 ..,, u."ly llgItcd cabin, the strain
a., u...t yE wlSie,y and apprehension,
Z. mysterious kuockin" At the
#la.aa SHUTTERS, the low but eager
raE g.ll, ana the group OF pale
,,.0a ujvl End women who crowded
a.ugt Iic with intense, wondering in
ununt ;s IL were a Uian who had Just
us.u rwm the dead, made me feel like
Que t,..lug and Er.tng in Il strange,
vivid dream lscrc WAS not, in the
whole environment, Il single SuTlgCs-
lroU % the real, commonplace, out
s.,la s.nH.i; aud when the convicts,
VITA a.t.d breath. began to tell me
g.las,iy stories of cruelty, suffering,
insanity and suicide at the mines, |
irlt almost us if | had entered the
gloomy cate over which Dante saw
Inscribed the dread warning, : leave
hope behind"
AhoGt O'Clock. Just rs | had taken
out my note book and began TO write,
a loud, imperative knock was heard
at the side window shutter. Madam
Koleukima exclaimed in a low, hoarse
whisper, Its the gcndarmes! Don't
let them come in. Tell them who of
~us are here, and PERHAPS they'll be
satisfied Everybody was silent,
and it seemed TO me that | could hear
my heart beat while Miss Armfeldt
went To the door and with cool self
possession said TO the gendarmes:
I'VE are all here; my mother, |, kur-
teyef, Madam Kolenkina and"- the
other names / could not catch. After
a moments parley the gendarmes
seemed to go away. Miss Armfeldt
shut and rebarred the door, and COM
ing back into the room said with a
.mile, They were satisfied; they
aldn't insist on coming in" Then,
turning to me, she added in English:
The gendarmes visit us three times a
day 10 see what we are doing and TO
make sure that we have not escaped.
Their visits, however, have grown TO
be formal, and they do not always
come in"
Conversation was then resumed,
and for two hours or more | listened
To stories Of convict life in prison, on
the road, or at the mines, aud an.
swered as well as / could the eager
questions of the conyicts with regard
to the progress of the Russian reyolu-
tionary movement In the course Of the
talk my attention was a~ccidently at
trScted toa person whom | had not
particularly noticed before and to
whom | had not been introduced. 1t
was a man 30 or IS years of age, with
a colorless, strangely vacant face and
large. protruding blue eyes. He had
seated himself on a low wooden stool
directly in front of me, had rested his
elbows on his knees with his chin
in his open hands, and was staring up
at me with a steady and at the same
time an expressioHless gaze in which
there seemed 10 be something I'M
natural and uncanny. At the first
pause in the conversation he said TO
me abruptly, but in a strange, drawl-
ing, monotonous tone, "We-hav-
a-graveyard = Of our own-here.
was so surprised aud startled by
his manner and by the nature of his
question that | did not for a moment
reply; but the conviction suddenly
flashed upon me that it was a political
convict who had lost his reason. As
the knocking at the gate after the
murder in Macbeth seemed TO DE
Quincy TO deepen the emotions ex.
cited by the tragedy and TO reflect back
a sort Of added horror upon all that
preceded il, SO this strange, unprompt-
ed question, with its suggestions of in.
sanity and death. seemed TO render
more vivid and terrible the stories Of
human suffering that had just heard,
and TO intensity all the emotions rous-
ed in my mind by the great tragedy
Of penal servitude. George KEENAN,
in 'apfnp,s