The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1893-06-28
A LUCKY RUSSIAN.

verse. owned anu managed by the RuS-
sian government, they constitute an en-
tire city and are fortified like fort
against the rest of the world.
Russian sheet iron, as every one
knows, is the strongest and best pro.
duced by any nation, and the process of
its manufacture is jealously guarded by
the authorities. One who enters the
service of the company never again sees
the outside world. He gives up every
thing-freedom, family, friends, all for
the sum of few nitiful rubles month
delivered where hNchooses. He Is there
in the works. but he might as well be i'm
his grave. Not word can he obtained
concerning him. and should he live 90
years after entering the service or die
the next day not even his family would
be the wiser, unless the stoppage of tho
monthly stipend revealed the fate of the
man. Once in awhile one tries to es-
cape; not often, however. for they are
always caught and always shot-as
warning TO others-for the ATTEMPTED
treachery.
1t was n crisp October night in the lit
tie village of Obvinsk, about 200 miles
from the great iron works. The weather
was sharp, the trees and vegetation
turned to a reddish brown-all but tho
hchens and moses, which seemed to
crouch into the very powders in their
effort to shield themselves from the keen
wind, sweeping knifelike from the snow
covered Ural.
Petrof Norvitski entered his poor hut
as his wife Katrina placed their scant
supper Of dry bread and potatoes on the
little fir table, on which fickerel and
flared bit Of candle end stuck in gourd
for candlestick.
81 ayN tired through, wife," said he,
"and will go to bed, but cheer up before
I go; sunshine is always back of the
clouds. True, the crops have failed and
/ can get no work, but the Blessed Vir-
gin will surely see us through the win
ter"
And with q tender kiss to wife and
babies Petrof sought the rest he so much
needed He shut his eyes, but not to
sleep, and only to turn over and over in
his fevered brain the probability of see
ing his family starve and freeze He
was brighter, more hopeful, when he
rose next morning, but any one could
have seen that his cheerfulness was
mostly assumed. Eating his breakfast
--one potato again--Petroff kissed the
babies more tenderly than usual, and
evading his wife's questions as to where
he was going he bade her keep up her
heart and once more left the house.
But once out Of sight Of her eyes he
flung himself down by the roadside, and
strong man as he was, he bowed his
head in his hands and sobbed like child
0 But Petroff was sturdy fellow, and
after few moment given to uncontrol-
liable grief he wiped away his tears and
strobe down the highway. From time
to time he begged q bit Of bread from a
passing serf, and when nightfall settled.
over the valley crawled into thicket
and sunk into heavy sleep. The sun
was peeping bold and brassy over the
Ural mountains before he awoke and
stiff and sore began again his tramp to-
ward the iron works. 1t had crossed the
meridian, the shadows were lengthen-
ing, and still not a morsel of food had
passed his lips this day, every one Of
whom he had begged bite needing it
for their own uses.
Suddenly to the right a gunshot
sounded, and ptarmigan fell within
reach.
"a providence for me!' cried Petroff,
joyously seizing and thrusting it under
his jacket and looking about him to
make sure that the sportsman had miss
ed the effect Of his shot. AS soon as he
dared he stopped, made fire and cook
ed the bird, and though he ate it with
out bread or salt it gave him strength
to keep his way. Sleeping in the night
air had stiffened and made his bones
ache, so he had decided that he would
not again try the thicket if he could help
it, and as night had come on dark and
murlSy he began to look about him for
place of shelter. He was then, though
he did not know it, passing the estate of
the celebrated Comte Romanoff.
Looming through the darkness stood
the great turreted castle with its battle
mented walls and close by the highway
barn, into which Petroff slipped
through an open window and stretched
himself on the sweet smelling hay, his
troubles for the time forgotten in slum-
ber.
1t was pitch dark and close ON to mid
night when the sound of voices reused
him-suppressed voices talking in eau
tious tones, which at once awakened his
suspicious. He lay still and listened.
'But this isn't the stable" voice at
the door murmured complainingly.
mo, devil take it," replied another,
II took the wrong turn; the stables are
back of the castle. Come on. Get three !
OF the best horses and bring them to the
gate by the lodge, tidy addition, you
know, to the ransom we will get for the
capture Of Romanof. 1t is 10 o'clock now.
We must be at the rendezvous by 8.
Hurry; we have no time to lose here"
Eoryitsh lay still till the sound Of their