The Helena independent. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1875-1943, 1891-02-02

canoes of his masters conduct and words.
But their purport was soon apparent.
Awaiting the count at the foot of the stairs
was a Russian officer of the c~onstabulary; a
sable cloak enveloping his shoulders and
the broad brim of his official hat shading a
swarth face that grew a jet moustache and
beard. An a~ustere, dark figure, his lus-
trous black eyes cleaned alphabetically
with the shining scabbard at his side.
"Your excellency will go with me"' said
the eendarme with great p%oliteness.
"Why should go with you, and where
must l go?" asked the unhappy nobleman.
II do not know, you excellency."
Permit me then to take leave of the
countess. shall return Immediately"
"That is against my orders"
MAY I not take leave of my family? I
must provide myself with clothing to pro-
tect me against the cold!"
Impossible? My instructions are per-
emptory. l am to take YOU as l find you.
You can not take leave OF your family, and
you have not time to take any luggage"
As he spoke the gendarme pointed to the
door, beyond which, in the soft and bril-
liant light that streamed from the home of
the doomed man, shone the panels OF the
fatal coach-the Siberian exiles' hearse. It
was guarded by three eendarmes, armed to
the teeth, two of whom stood by its open
door, while the third kept guard over the
horses. Bareheaded, and in evening dress,
having grasped the hand of his trembling
secretary, whom fright had made more
dead than alive,' the Count Tolstoi crossed
his threshold for the last time. He disap-
peared in the recesses of the gloomy coach,
followed by the gendarmes who had stood
on guard and the officer who arrested him.
The door closed with a heavy thud; the
wheels crunched over the fine chalk dust
that o~verlies the pavements of Odessa; the
coach and its occupants flew into the night,
and from thenceforth the brave Count Iol-
cA-s H. q Ion- Lost 10 rtfa nhSlIray for"il,
and friends.
For some moments DR.. Calkoen was mo.
tionless with terror. He stood as a statue
beneath the Corinthian portlco gazing after
the coach. Returning to the hall he passed
his hands over his eyes to assure himself
had happened so speedily and SO noiseless-
ly that not one among the hundreds of
guests who thronged the salons knew of its
occurrence. The appalling duty now rest
ed on the secretary of breaking the news to
the countess. No one will doubt his dec
~laration that it was the most trying ordeal
of his life. Summoning all his strength he
assembled the stairs, physically %benumbed,
with sitting sensations at his heart. In a
room, where she was the center of an ami
mated, laughing group, he beheld the coun-
tess, apparently the most joyous of the
throng, and. perhaps tie most admired for
her lustrous beauty. AS DR.. Calkoen en-
tered the apartment she approached him
and with a gracious smile-the warmth of
which was suddenly chilled by his wan and
dazed ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Of the counts
whereabouts.
Evasively. out %truthfully, the secretary
replied that he did not know.
'"Then you will find him for me. and re-
port to me where he is," she said. speaking
blithely and as if she would rally the doctor
from a somewhat habitual abstraction, for
which she WIS wont to chide him. ~
should be pleased to obey your commands,
madam, but l dc not know where the count
is. The count has gone away said the
secretary.
"Gone away, gone awayn!' she exclaimed,
as the color fled from her face. "Why
should he go away, and with whom has be
gomez
with four gendarmes,'' replied the Sec
rotary.
1t was enough. Uttering q piercing scream
she fell to the floor before the unnerved