The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1902-04-26
BY Jules Verne

AOWCo thC OIL buiCc VI Il cOldI-lAdlu udO
penetrated.
The mujik was conducting his guest
straight to the posting house when in q
narrow street Michael Strogoff, com.
ing to sudden stop, sprang behind a
jutting wall
What is the matter?" quickly asked
the mujik, much astonished at this sud
den movement.
"Silence" hastily replied Michael
Strogoff, with his finger on his lips.
At this moment a detachment de-
bouched from the principal square into
the street which Michael Strogoff and
his companion had been just following
At the head of the detachment, com
posed of twenty horsemen, was an Off
Ger dressed in a very simple Uniform.
Although he glanced rapidly from one
side to the other. he could not have
seen Michael Strogotf owing to his pre-
cipitous retreat.
The detachment went at full trot into
the narrow street. Neither the officer
nor his escort concerned themselves
about the inhabitants Several unlucky
ones had scarcely time to make way
for their passage. There WERE there
fore, few half stifled cries, to which
the thrusts Of the lance gave an instant
reply, and the street was Immediately
cleared.
When the escort had disappeared,
"Who Is that officer?" asked Michael
Strogoff, returning toward the mujik
And while putting the question his face
was pale as that of a corpse.
at is Ivan Ogareff.' replied the Sibe-
rian, but In deep voice which breath
ed hatred.
HE" cried Michael Strogoff, from
whom the word escaped with an accent
of fury which he could not conquer.
He had just recognized in this officer
the traveller who had struck him at the
posting house Of Icflm, and, although
he had only caught glimpse of him, it
burst upon his mind at the same time
that this traveller was the old Zingari
whose words he had overheard in the
market place of Mini Novgorod.
The mujik and Michael resumed their
way and arrived at the posting house.
To leave Omsk by one of the breaches
would not be difficult after nightfall.
AS for purchasing carriage to replace
the tarantass, that was impossible.
There was none to be let or sold. But
what want had Michael Strogoff now
for carriage? Was he not alone, alas?
A horse would suffice him, and, very
fortunately, horse could be had 1t
was an animal Of mettle, capable of
enduring much fatigue, and Michael
Strogoff, accomplished horseman as he
was, could make good use of it.
The horse cost a high price, and
few moments later Michael was ready
to start. 1t was then A o'clock in the
afternoon.
Michael Strogoff, compelled to wait
till nightfall in order to pass the forti-
fcations, but not desiring to show him
self in the streets of Omsk, remained in
the posting house and there partook of
food.
There was a great crowd in the pub
lie room. it being the resort of numbers
Of the anxious inhabitants, who at this
eventful period collected there to OBJ
tain news. They were talking Of the
expected arrival Of corps Of Musco-
vite troops, not at Omsk, but at Tomsk,
corps intended to recapture that town
from the Tartars Of Feofar-Kahn.
Michael Strogoff lent an attentive ear
to all that was said, but took no part
in the conversation.
Suddenly a cry made him tremble, a
cry which penetrated to the depths of
his soul, and these two words, so to
speak, rushed into his ear:
my sonv'
His mother, the old woman Maria,
was before him Trembling, she smil-
ed upon him. She stretched forth her
arms to him. Michael Strogoff arose.
He was about to throw himself
The thought of duty, the serious dan
ger for his mother and himself in this
unfortunate meeting. suddenly stopped
him. and such was his command over
himself that not muscle of his face
moved.
There were twenty people In the pub
lie room. Among them were perhaps
spies, and was it not known in the
town that the son of Maria Strogoff
belonged to the corps of the couriers Of
the czarf
Michael Strogofr did not move.
"Michaelw cried his mother.
"Who are you, my good lady" Mi
chael Strogoff stammered, unable to
speak In his usual firm tone.
"Who am 1, thou askest? Dost thou
no longer know thy mother?"
"You are mistaken" coldly replied
Michael Strogoff. "a resemblance de-
ceives you"
The old Maria went up to him and,
looking straight into his eyes, said:
"Thou art not the son of Peter and
Maria Strogoff?'
Michael Strogoft would have given
his life to have locked his mother In his
arms, but IL he yielded 1t was all over
with him, with her. with his mission,
with his oath! Completely master Of
himself. he closed his eyes in order not
% see the inexpressible anguish which
lgitated the revered countenance Of his
mother. He drew back his hands in
rider not to touch those trembling