The Monmouth inquirer., 1897-08-19
HEINRICH WAGNER.

Al 4f1OcDOM LnCAC NJ ac o0A INV III t1N
dwelling OF Heinrich Wagner. A quar-
ter af century back he, good honest
Ian, with his equally good
and lonest Frau, had quilted the Faith
nd, and had found location and oc-
cupation as a matchmaker In Russia.
Here a son was born to them, and
later on there came also to dwell un-
der their roof the orphan daughter of a
distant relative, who, but for them,
would have been friendless and we'll
night destitute
Fritz, the son, was now nearly twen-
ty years of agea fine, blue eyed. we'll
set-np, yellow haired Saxon.
He had contrived to pick up fair
amount of knowledge, for he was in
teIligent and persevering.
While in the daytime he worked with
his father in cleaning and repairing
watches and sometimes even resetting
ancient Muscovite jewelery--his even
ings all his own, and he was
fain to employ them in mixing with
other youths of his class and age, for
mutual improvement and recreation.
But aIasI the locality where these
young men assembled, smoked. drank
their schnaps, or vodka, played at tric-
trac, and other innocent games, soon
became a suspected place. A raid was
made upon the building, and a printing
press was discovered hidden away in a
corner of the room.
From that fatal night no more was
heard of Fritz, or his companions
they had utterly, as it were, sunk out
Of life, None had seen them! None
knew their whereabouts. None knew
even if they existed.
Wagner anxiously sought his son at
every police station. addressed himself
10 each official, but only got as answer:
Your son is not lost. The Little
Father watches over all his subjects.
Daily the poor man returned to their
now unhappy home. heart-sick and
body weary, after his useless search, to
find his heavy-eyed. sad-faced wife
awaiting him at the open door. the
sooner to have news of her beloved
Fritz.
Yet another inmate there was scarce
" less anxious-the pretty orphan girl,
Bettina; though she kept herself in
the back -ground, her eager. anxious
look, and her palce face. told Of the
large share which she took in the FAM
lily sorrow.
Days and weeks rolled on machine
like;" these poor folk pursued their
daily occupations. Though their grief
was dulled, it still laid heavily upon
them. Wagner's hair had whitened,
there were deep lines beneath his eyes.
his mouth had lost its firmness, he had
no relish even for his pipe. The moth
er's figure had become bent and thin.
and she sighed deeply as each morning
she arranged her sons chamber, and
busted afresh the thick felt slippers
which he always put on when he came
home
Bestino no longer smiled, and tear
would course down her pallid cheeks if
the neighbors did but make mention
of her cousin Fritz.
One hope only remained to them
perhaps Fritz might be State prison
er, and it was possible that he could
be acquitted of the crime laid to his
charge; orsad alternative-h he might
also be condemned to the mines of ST..
IBERIA for his lifetime!
Although Moscow is the most secret
OF cities, and it would seem as if there
were paddock on every tongue. yet it
Invariably somehow always creeps out
as to the time when those wretched
bands of political prisoners are to be
drafted of on their weary Journeys
journey lasting more than hundred
days-towarls the Oural mountains.
Then may be seen in the street at
dead of night bands of silent men and
women, preceded and surrounded by
mounted Cossacks. who crack their
long whips and force their small horses
sideways, backwards, any way to keep
off the curious or the unhappy rela-
tises of those fettered, helpless, hope
less, God-forgotten prisoners.
Other Cossacks ride up and down the
line. lowering to the ground their
pointed lances, to which are affixed
small lanterns, by means of which they
are able to perceive II any Of these un-
fortunate creatures have let fall scrap
OF paper, or aught in the shape Of a
letter. addressed to unhappy friends
whom they are probably leaving for ev-
err
Soon after cne of these melancholy
professions had passed through the
city gates, and after the noise Of hoofs
OF the Cossacks horses had died away,
there might be seen. furtively creeping
from beneath doorways. or round dark
corners, s0rrow-stricken beings. eager
ly searching for any sign or indication
dropped BY the prisoners as they
passed. Peering close to the ground,
with his weak, short-sighted eyes,
amongst them was Wagner, scanning
the street IN every part.
His companions gradually dropped