The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1891-04-08
ICE RACES ON The NEVA.
Il is the morning Of the Epiphany.

Inc lulcuec COlu Oh lno nlkul udS HUI
Grated, but the barometer still marks 150
below zero. From the tall steeples of
innumerable churches the bells of st.
Petersburg ring in the sacred feast. In an
exquisitely appointed room of a palace,
where tender lights filter through the
golden shadows of silken hangings, sits
woman. Her attitude is one of repose.
deep, unrufed. From the crown OF her
little flame-colored head to the tip of her
dainty shoe, she is perfect bit OF dame
NATURES art If she were standing we
should call her tall, but she sits crouching
in her chair with all the abandon of doz-
ing tigress. She gives little yawn.
"Ahl late as usual, she SAYS aloud.
As she speaks the door opens and a
servant enters.
Capt. Repine," he announces.
He follows quickly on the mans heels
short, thick set, with a dull Cossack face
and kindly smile, wearing the uniform OF
an officer of the imperial body guard.
Pardon, my dear Elisaveta. Have /
made you waltz"
She gives her shapely shoulders slight
shrug, but watches him with contempla-
tive eyes as he rattles on.
Imagine, my beloved, thought that i
should not be able to take you to the
races was so rushed at the last mo-
ment On, but they will be superb.
Never has the track been more perfect
hard as a rock, and not a fake OF snow"
Indeed" Gays the lady languidly.
Putting out a lazy, beringed hand she
draws back the curtain that hides her
window. at is superb" she assents.
"You know how difficult it is to accom-
plIsh that" continues the young officer,
with this cursed wind drifting the Ladoga
snow. Still | must tell you that 500 men
have worked all night at it. Brave fell
lows"
"The journals say something of three
horse race"
come
1--WE have still an hour" she answers,
and motions him to a seat beside her.
"No. no, at your feet, always at your
feet, Princess Veta," SAYS the young man
gayIy, flinging his head back to better
look into the opal tinted eyes above him.
With her little pointed chin against the
rose of her palm she sits lost in O world of
reyerie.
"Do you remember Sergius Hotzka?"
she asks suddenly.
He shrugs his shoulders, accustomed to
the willful wanderings of the great citys
petted belle.
How could ever forget him." he says
in turn. "Was there ever a man who left
more inefacable traces behind him? He
was an original mailman"
"Origina :" echoes Elisaveta. "Ah!
what cowardly word Originate she
repeats, as though interrogatIng her own
thoughts The young man frowns slight
ly, but she goes on with calm retrospect
ton. "Only three years ago" she said,
"and he appeared among us like some
brilliant meteor; labulously rich aston
ishine the world with his eccentric prodi-
galties. Then all those clod-roOtng
swine, they deserted him when he was no
longer wealthy"
Her lovers white teeth are like a wolf
ish danger signal as he turns to look at
her.
My DEAR" he says colby, you can't
expect the world 10 be faithful to
proscript
"Proscript7"
Exactly, They say that political COM
plicstions were mis- ruin. AT any rate he
is banished from st. Petersburg"
"Then he is in Siberia"
With all soldiers diplomacy he says,
indiferenty: 81 believe not. The peas
ants tell story OF hermit OF the Step
pes, who mends kettles and piows for the
farmers. Many believe it to be Hotzka,
with the remains OF his own famous
stud"
'Farmers-kettles, echoes Elisaveta
absently.
Suddenly she turns OH her moody swain.
"Come, Alexander" she cries; al can
see the crowds gather from here. Quick
we must hurry"
IL is scarcely half hour later and the
race course presents brilliant spectacle.
The river Neva is now only colossal
roadway, between two walls of splendid
rose granite that line its quays. 1t is a
mirror OF polished steel. Stands richly
decorated with flags occupy ut least a
quarter of the inclosure, and over a
hundred thousand spectators sur
round the arena. In the center OF
everything a great pavilion draped in
purple and gold shows that royalty is to
take part in the city's festival huge
figure in white uniform shows itself. The
impaSsiveness of this countenance, with
its eagle profile and small, glittering eyes,
is unmistakable.
IT'S he, the autocrat-the emperor Of all
the Russas.
From the human hive mounts and
swels growing noise; cries, oaths, calls
from the Kras senders, all blend them
selves in formidable roar. "Long live the
car"
At this moment rosewood sled drawn
by white horses stops in front of the box
nearest the royal pavilion. The president
OF the jury precpitates himself st the
horses feet and aids young woman to
descend. The tall figure, with its long,
loose wrap of priceless blue fox and its au-
reole of wonderful led hair, is well known
in ST. Petersburg. She is the Princess
Elisaveta Palorna, the beauty of three sea-
sons Repine follows her. Under her lit
tie fur cep, with his jeweled fez, Veta's
eyes look out, serene, impepetrable. A bell
sounds, and silence falls on the waiting
multitude. From open gates stream a
dozen or more horses harnessed to light
seds of gilded osier. They are pure
blooded Arabians, thick set mustangs from
the Steppes, and highly bred Orlotls with
sweeping names white and shiny as spun
glass.
The people watch these preliminaries
alphabetically. They are waiting for the
"piece de resistance" the three-horse race,
with princes as drivers. Already four
races have been run, the track is cleared
and the 500 workers take up their task of
IL l..