Waterbury evening Democrat., 1894-09-07
CATCHING A TARTAR

| Tn evidence, sunDurnG ana pulIlnB a ClS- arctic vigorously. If he is new hand "a Dickey Sam-he wears a cloth peaked cap with the club burgee, a well cut coat of serge or pilot cloth bristling with bronze buttons, loose flannel con- | tinuations and white shoes. No man &as ever so much a seadog as the yacht ing tyro looks
 The older sailing men, those to the manner born - ''swagger squadron men,, who can fly the white ensign, are dressed in long, lean, frock coats, | loose trousers turned up, pointed boots, immaculate collars and glossy hats-the | aim of the man who has lived is to look as much like q stockbroker as possible | Of course down at the Castle or on Ryde 1 pier they will blossom into seasonable crop of buttons and burgess and display remarkable activity ill dodging that ty- rant of the deep-the sailing master-if the water looks bit choppy.
 Two people attracted a lot of atten- ton by their palpable efforts at conceal ment He, although the day was so hot, was cnveloped in long cloak, with a collar reaching past his ears, and his cotton white hair and mustache showed
 
 deep brown of his face as he turned to watch the porters attacking a huge mound of his belongings
 Each box and bag was blazoned with an imperial coronet over a monogram, and then told one another guardedly and under promises of profound secrecy that was Prince Paul Demtoff, the owner of the new 100 rater now lying off Southampton
 She, the lady, was tall and gracefully girllike. A neat, natty blue serge Red fern frock; a sunburnt straw nat, with a dark blue ribbon; tiny tanned boots; a white shirt, with a turndOwn collar, | and flowing tie completed her costume, saving a thick gossamer veil that com pletely hid her face, and but for the | whiteness and purity of her neck it would have seemed she suffered from | some facial disagreement. It was evil dently a desire not to be recognized that led to the adoption of the yashmak-
 She was evidently expecting or avoid ing some friends. Her head moved with birdlikc quickness as she scanned each new arrival on the platform, and her slender hand, white and jewelless,
 
 the morocco monogrammed case she car ricd- Catching her eye from distance, he walked toward her with the easy, firm self assurance that women like She saw he was coming to her and wait ed calmly-Perhaps she breathed more quickly.
 He raised his soft hat, and with a courtly bow said ill perfect English, with the mere scent of an accent: Par don me, you are distressed Have you missed your maid? Can be of any serv- ice to yOu:"
 Now his hat was off he appeared a prematurely white haired man of 45 or 50, with q firm face and voice-a man evidently used to command
 Thank you very much" cam in a soft sibilant voice from beneath tho thick gossamcr. ''I have not only lost my maid, but ny portmanteau. l am afraid it is under that pile of luggage, and' with a little shrug II an afraid that pile of luggage is yours. That is mine, madame. 1 will get your bag at once. May I ask where you are going? To Southampton, and it is of the highest importance you should not miss this train? Pardon, do not trou- ble. will see that all is arranged
 4 few words to the guard, q rapid passage of backsheesh, and the missing bag with q dainty monogram and small crest was placed carefully on the rack 1 of the first class carriage by which the yelled lady was standing. With the | coolEeSs that seemed part of his nature, the Russian indicated to a porter a small hamper and had it placed in the same compartment There must have | been some collision and q lavish tip, for, though the train was crowded, the l guard, after the imperceptible manner of his kind, kept that carriage empty until the train started, and they found themselves alone, securely locked ill. 4 sudden start ran through her slen- der frame. She paused and asked quick l ly. Do you know when the next train | leaves Waterloo for Southampton?' He was desOlated Of course she missed her maid, but he was afraid not for some hours.
 Madame is glad? Madame is afraid of being followed:''
 'Ycs, madame is glad She does not wish to be taken back and forced into a hateful marriage" blushing prettily.
 The old, old story-stern father. e!d- erly lover. titled, rich. but horrid Eo mother. no sister, no brother She was flying from bondage to her aunt. Lady AzurcgOTp, i'll Guernsey.
 Ycs, she was Lady Constance Az urcgure- Had he really met her at the Duchess of Arlington's dance? She thought she knew his face That was why she trusted him so implicitly on the platform. of course But if she was 1 yelled, why was he so shrouded in big 1 cloak: Come, now," anxiOusly, ga lady? An clopcment:"
 l No, no. and again mol Nothing so ] joyous He was Prince Paul Demtoff and had fallen between two stools had incurred the enmity of the imperial l court through cOquetting with the ni- l hilists That meant the Alexiefsky Ra- vclin or tho fortress of Peter and Paul in St Petersburg, and, on the other hand, finding the party of progress" go- ing too far, he was threatened with death for dcserting the red flag
 ''YOu must pardon me, prince. tut we seem in trouble together" and she laughel merrily. Do you know half 1 thought you were n dctCctive:'' i By this time he had returned to his hamper and produced dcftly a table 1 cloth, plates knives. forks and servi. ! cites, small bottle of Chateau Nouton Rothschild and dainty cold chicken. ] Their mutual confessions had lessened embarrassment, and the lady, after making little InOue, said that she was so hungry and so glad to eat, etc. , nF. Sk, sped through the beautiful country. and by the time Southampton was thought l of she had smoked half mild cigarette