The Press., 1893-01-26
NERVE.

anxious to communicate with Junot in Portugal, but all the roads to Lisbon swarmed with guerrillas and with the troops composing Castanos' army.
 He asked Krasinski, the commandant of the lancers, to find him brave and intelligent young man. Two days after ward the commandant brought. the prince a young man of his corps, for whom he pledged his life. His name was Leckinski, and he was but eighteen years old.
 Murat was moved at seeing so young a man court so imminent a danger, for if he were detected his doom was sealed. Murat could not help remarking to the Pole the risk he was about to run. The youth smiled.
 "Let your imperial highness give me my instructions" answered he respect fully, s'and I will give good account of the mission I have been honored with"
 The young prince augured favorably from the young mans modest resolu- tion. The Russian ambassador gave him his dispatches; he put on Russian uniform and set out for Portugal.
 The first two days passed over quietly, but on the afternoon of the third Leck- inski was surrounded by body of Span iards, who disarmed him and dragged him before their commanding officer. Luckily for the gallant youth it was Castanos himself
 LeckinsH was aware that he was lost if he were discovered to be a French 1,1 loka al the instant not to let single word of French escape him, and to speak but Russian and German, which he spoke with equal fuency. The cries of rage of his captors announced the fate which awaited him, and the horrible murder of General Rene, who had perished in the most dreadful tortures but few weeks before as he was going to join Junot, was sufficient to freeze the very blood.
 ''Who are your said Castanos in French, which language he spoke per fectly well, having been educated in France.
 Leckinski looked at the questioner, made a sign and answered in German, 'I do not understand you"
 Castanos spoke German, but he did not wish to appear personally in the matter and summoned one of the officers of his staff, who went on with the ex- animation. The young Pole answered in Russian or German, but never let a single syllable of French escape him. He might, however, easily have forgot ten himself, surrounded as he was by a f,~-, lie ol waited with savage impatience to have him declared guilty-that is, a French man-to fall upon him and murder him.
 But their fury was raised to a height which the general himself could not con- trol, by an incident which seemed to cut off the unhappy prisoner from every hope of escape. One of Castanos' aids de camp, one of the fanatically patriotic who were so numerous in this war, and who from the first had denounced Leck- inski as French spy, burst in the room, brown jacket, tall hat and red plume of Spanish peasant.
 The officer confronted him with the Pole and said:
 s'Look at this man, and then say if it is true that he is a German or Rus, sian. He is spy, I swear by my soul"
 The peasant meanwhile was eying tine prisoner closely. Presently his dark eye lighted up with the fire of hatred.
 "Es Frances, he is French1nan!'' ex- claimed he, clapping his hands. And he stated that having been in Madrid a few weeks before he had been put ill requisition to carry forage to the French barrack, and, said he, II recollect that this is the man who took my load of forage and gave me receipt. I was near him an hour and recollect him. When we caught him told my comrade this is the French officer delivered my forage to-
 This was correct. Castanos probably discovered the true state of the case, but he was generous foe. He proposed to let him pursue his journey, for Leckinski still insisted he was Russian, and could not be made to understand a word of French. But the moment he ventured a hint of the kind, thousand threaten ing voices were raised against him and he saw that clemency was impossible.
 ''But," said he, twill you then risk a quarrel with Russia, whose neutrality we are so anxiously asking for?''
 ''No," said the officer, "but let us try this man."
 Leckinski understood all, for he was acquainted with Spanish. He was re- moved and thrown into room worthy to have been one of the dungeons of the inquisition in its best days.
 When the Spaniards took him prisoner he had eaten nothing since the previous evening, and when his dungeon door was closed on him lie had lasted for eighteen hours. No wonder then what with exhaustion, fatigue. anxiety, and the agony of his dreadful situation, that the unhappy prisoner fell almost sense less on his hard couch. Night soon closed in and left him to realize in it's gloom the full horror of his hopeless situation. He was brave, of course, but to die at eighteen-'tis sudden. But youth and fatigue finally yielded to the approach of sleep and he was soon buried in profound slumber.
 He had slept perhaps two hours when the door of his dungeon opened slowly and some one entered with cautious steps, hiding with his hand the light of lamp. The visitor bent over the pris-