Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1907-11-14

Alban realized this, in dim way
for he had heard the stroy from many
a platform in Wnitecnapel Perhaps
he had enough selflshness in his
nature to be glad that the evil sights
were hidden from his eyes. His old
craving for journeying amid narrow
streets came upon him here in War
saw and held him facinated Knowing
nothing Of the city or its environment
he visited the castle. the barracks
the Saxon gardens, watched the wind
ing river Vistula and the Pig suburb
beyond, and did not fall to spy out
the old town, lying beneath the guns
| of the fortress, maze of red roofs
and tortuous streets and alleys where,
In the outcasts were hiding. To this
latter he turned by some good instinct
which seemed to say that he had err
rand there And here little Lois Boris
koff touched aim upon the should sr
and babe him follow her-just as
imagination had told him would be
| the case. She had come up to him
so silently that even a trained ear
might not have detected her footstep.
| Whence she came or how he could
not say. The street wherein they
| met was ore of the narrowest he had
yet discovered The crazy caves al
most touched above his head-the
shops were tenanted by Jews already
awake and crying their merchandise.
Had Alban been traveller he would
have matched the scene only n
Nuremberg, the old German town AS
it was, he could but stare open
mouthed.
Lois-was it Lois? The voice rang
Familiarity enough in his ears, the
eyes were those pathetic, patient eyes
he had known SO we'll in London But
the black hair cut in short and silky
curls about the neck, the blue eng;,
neer's blouse reaching to the knees,
the stockings and shoes below-was
this Lois or some young relative sent
to warn him Of her hiding place? For
an instant he stared at her amazed.
Then he understood.
"Lois-it is Lois?' he SAT-
The girl looked swiftly up and down
the street before she answered him.
He thought her very pale and care
worn. He could see that her hands
were trembling while she spoke.
Herr Petermann, she said almost in
whisper. 81 dare not speak to you
here. Alb dear. 90 down to the river
and find out the tlmber-yard II shall
be there when you come"
She ran from him without another
word and disappeared In one Of the
rows which diverged from the narrow
street and were so many filthy lanes
In the possession If the scum of War
saw. To Alban both her coming
and her going were full OF mystery
II Count Sergius had told him the
truth, the Russian government wished
we'll not only to her but also to her
father. the poor old fanatic Paul who
was now in the prison at Petersburg.
Why, then, was it necessary for her
to appear in the streets Of Warsaw
disguised as boy and afraid to ex-
change single word with friend
from England. The truth astounded
him and provoked his curiosity in
tolerably. Was Lois in danger then?
Had the Count been lying to him?
He could come to no other conclu-
sion.
1t was not difficult. to find Her
Petermann's timber-lard for many
Englishmen found their way there and
many a ships captain from Dantzig
had business with the merry old fell
low whom Alban now sought out at
Lois bidding. The yard itself might
have covered an acre of ground per-
haps, bordering the river by a hand
some quay and showing mighty stacks
Of good wood all ready for the barges
Or seasoning against next years ship
ment. Two gates CT considerable size
admitted the lorries that went in from
the town, and by them stood the wood
en- hut at whose window inquiri IS
must be made. Here Alban present
ed himself ten minutes after Lois had
left him.
IT wish to see Herr Petermann, !"
he said in English
A young Jew clerk took up scrap
of paper and thrust it forward.
TO write your name, please mein
Herr"
Alban wrote his name without any
hesitation whatever. The clerk called
a boy, who had been playing by n
timber stack, and dispatched him in
quest Of his chief.
From Dantzig. mein Herr" he
asked
mo" said Alban civilly, sfrom Lon
dom
"Ah," said the clerk II think 1t
would be Dantzig. Lot of Englishcs
from Dantzig-you have not much of
the woods in Engerland. mein Herr"
He did not expect reply and I'm
mediately applied himself to the useful
occupation OF killing blue bottle
with the point Of his ren. Two or
three lcrries rolled in and out while
Alban waited. He could see ships
passing upon the river and hear the
scream of a steam saw from a shed
upon his left hand. A soldier passet,
the gate. but hardly cast glance at
the yard Five minutes must have
elapsed before Herr Petermann ap-
peared. He held the paper in thin
cadavero',s hand % thon~h quite un.
acquainted with his visitors name
and not at all curious to be enlighten-
| ed
"You are Mr.. Kennedy" he said in
excellent English.
Eyes" said Alban, "a friend of mine
| told mo tn oOpoo hara