Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-11-23

altogether. And prayers and petitions
would be made the Holy Virgin on his
account.
The courtesy and politeness of these rude
untaught peasants is extraordinary. The
smallest lad will tip his cap If you speak to
him. The shopkeeper is equally gracious.
He will thank you from his heart and soul,
for buying penny roll, and wish you bon
voyage from the sidewalk. If you ask for a
certain street OF chance passer-by, he will
walk back half a block to point it out to
you. Everyone bows as you pass and no
one, from the smallest child, forgets to wish
you good day. These people may not mean
quite all they say, but it is good to hear
them say it at any rate. As they have no
possible way of learning civility and polite
ness, one can only assume that it is born
with them. True courtesy is always IN the
blood.
On leaving the brick kilns which stretch
many miles, one comes in sight of the garii-
sonof Boren-a great stone stronghold-sur-
rounded by moat and further guarded by
spruce-looking soldiers, with gallant swords
swinging by their sides and high-pointed
caps tipping jauntily from their heads.
A NIGHT OF ADVENTURE.
Do not leave one village SO late as to
reach another after nightfall. The good
country folk are for the most part suspicious
of strangers whom the darkness ushers in.
We met with a thrilling adventure by do
ing this-one which might have had
serious, if not disastrous, termination. 1t
happened in this way. We left Boren at 2
in the afternoon to walk to Mechlin, and
reached the outskirts of the town just as the
shades of twilight were fading into the
blackness of night, and the late evening
chimes of the famous Mechlin bells were
tolling sweet lullaby to the faithful sleep
ing within the shadows of the church.
After our usual custom, we avoided the
hotels, and inquired for a room in the
various cafes and estanimets.
Imagine our surprise when one after
another eyed US suspiciously, and politely,
but firmly, refused us admittance. One said
it was too late; another that their rooms
were full; third that they didn't take
strangers, and so on. Surprise soon turned
to disappointment, and disappointment to
indignation and despairl Time meanwhile
sped swiftly on 1t always does when you
are going to be hanged or catch a train. 1t
grew later and later, and there we were,
homeless and alonein foreign landl By
9 Utmost every house had barred its shutters
and doors. The street lamps waxed dim and
it began to rain! Finally, 1 espied somber-
looking hotel, through the windows of which
glimmered faint light.
MADE BOLD BY FATIGUE.
We entered brick courtyard, filled with
tables and chairs and a molly throng of beer
drinkers, and inquired of sleek-looking
waiter in full dress if we could get q room.
Certainly we could, If we didn't mind pay
ing francs and going up on the top floor.
My friend-a fearless, masculine sort of
womsn-said all right and bravely followed
the man up the stairs. was frightened, but
was tired, wet and anxious, and glad of
the friendly shelter of any roof. The cham
ber was, as he said, at the very top of the
house, and think we must have climbed
some hslf-dozen pairs of stairs before reach
ing it. To our surprise, 1t was elegantly
furnished. The bed was large and hand
somely draped in lace; the stone floor was
covered with numerous rugs; the windows
were curtained in damask, and the dress
ing case and chairs were OF rich wood.
The sleek attendant fingered for few
dark, foreign-looking chap, with small,
black eyes and the movements of a cat.
hated him on the spot-more-I feared
him. We were not long in retiring for the
night, but oddly enough, neither of u.s.
could compose ourselves to sleep. Hour
after hour dragged YEARLY on. Finally,
Just as we were about to fall into doze, I
remembered that I had not made fast the
door. Thinking that perhaps my friend
might also have fogotten it, 1 slipped out of
bed, and lighting the candle. felt for the
bolt. As I did so my heart gave great
throbbing, bound, the door was not only
open, but there was neither key, bolt nor
lock; no way, in fact of fastening it at all.
n =
lessl
A sTEALTHY STEP OUTSIDE.
A fearful dread grew upon me. My teeth
began to chatter. A feeling of dizziness
came over me. Twas about to awaken my
friend when stealthy step outside arrested
my attention and rooted me in terror to the
spot Someone was in the hail. 1 heard
the creeping sound of shoeless feet, Then
hand stole noiaelessly to the door. tried
to move. could not. Twas riveted to the
floor. All power went from me. The hand
outside swept across the panels of the door,
until it found the bolt. Here it made rat
tling noise and knew perfectly well what
would follow. The bolt slid in the lock,
the door was made perfectly fast. Then the
soft, snake-like steps died away and all was
still.
We were locked ini
More than likely they meant to rob and
murder US. We carried very little money,
it is true; but had letter of credit and
some jewelry in a bag around my neck, and
my friend had a valuable watch and chain.
Not much, to be sure; but sufficient to cost
US our lives at the hands of the fiends into
whose murderous clutches we had fallen. I
have no words to describe the agony of the
hours that followed. Each moment we
feared might be our last. We were afraid
to call an alarm from the window, for 1t
opened into the courtyard below. We could
not jump out without killing ourselves.
There was nothing, absolutely nothing to
do but wait for our doom.
THE ROBBERY PERPETRATED.
The bells of Mechlin had tolled o'clock
when again heard that catlike step in the
hall. This time, however, the movements
were quicker and not quite SO guarded. I
had scarcely recovered from my first sense of
fright when the bolt was Withdrawn and the
door softly opened. The waiter who had
received US stood in the doorway. He
didn't hesitate or beat about the bush. He
came at once to the point and informed us of
the character Of the house we were in. They
would not do US any bodily harm, he said,
but they would make US pay big price to
get out. II we wanted to strike a bargain
with him. however. we could do so to much
better advantage. He was only a servant,
but, heaven knows, he had little heart.
He would not rob US. He would only ask a
"petit pourboireP' A mere bagatelle, fee
big enough to pay him for his trouble and
the risk he ran. No more-not q franc
more He was an honest fellow-God and
the Virgin knew that perfectly well-but he
had to live somehow.
"How much do you want?" demanded
of the rascal, whom felt was as likely to
betray US as his employers.
"Fifty francs and little enouoh when vou