The gazette-times. [volume] (Heppner, Or.) 1912-1925, 1915-05-06

49, pNPPCcV tudt d revolutionary VIM
Wished to avenge the dead of Moscow and
who could succeed in getting so far as the
door behind which General Trebassof slept
would amuse himself by making a little
hole with a pin in order to draw back the
bolt and amuse himself by pouring poison
into a glass? Why, in such a case, he
would have thrown his bomb outright.
whether 1t blew him up along with the
villa, or he was arrested on the spot, or
had to submit TO the martyrdom of the
dungeons in he Fortress of SIS. Peter and
Paul, or be hung at Schlusselburg. Isn't
that what always happens? That Is the
way he would have done and not have
acted like a hotel-rat! Now, there is some
one in your home Tor who comes to your
home) who acts like a hotel-rat because he
does not wish to be seen, because he does
not wish to be discovered, because he does
net wish to b taken in the act. Now, the
moment he fears nothing, so much as to
be taken In the act. so that he plays all
these tricks of legerdemain, it Is certain
that HIS object lies beyond the act itself,
beyond the bomb. beyond the poison. Why
all this necessity for bombs of deferred
explosions. for clockwork placed where 1t
will be confused with other things, and
not on a bare staircase forbidden to every
body, though you visit it 20 times a day."
But this man comes in as he pleases
by day and by night? You don't answer.
You don't know h he is, perhaps?
II know him, perhaps. but l am not sure
who it is yet"
you are not curious. little domovoi
doukh! A friend of the house. certainly,
and who enters the house as ne wishes,
by night. because someone opens the WIN
dow for him. And who comes from the
K~restowsky Villa. Boris or Michael! All,
poor miserable Maternal Why don't they
kill poor Matfens? Their general! Their
general! And they are soldiers-soldiers
who come at night to kill their general!
Aided hy-by whom? Do you believe that?
You? Light Of my eyes. you believe that! No
no, that Is not possible! / want you to
understand. monsieur Te domovoi, that l am
not able to believe anything so horrible.
No, no. by Jesus Christ. who died on the
cross, and who searches our hearts, / do
not believe that Boris-who, however. has
very advanced ideas. I admit-it is neces-
sary not to forget that: very advanced;
and who composes cry advanced verses
also, as I have always told him-I will
not believe that Boris Is capable of such
a fearful crime. AS to Michael. he is ali
honest man. and my daughter. my Natacha.
is an honest girl. Everything looks very
bad, truly. but I do not suspect either
Michael or Boris or my pure and beloved
Natacha teven though she has made a
translation into French Of very advanced
verses, certainly most improper for the
daughter of a generally That is what lies
at the bottom Of my mind, the bottom of
my heart-you have understood me per-
fectly, little angel of paradise? All, it is
you the general owes his life to, that Ma
trena owes her life. Without you this house
We uld already be a coffin. How shall !
ever reward your You wish for nothing!
annoy you! You don't even listen to me!
A ceffm-we would all be In our cofffns!
Tell me what you desire. All that I have
belongs to you"
at dasira 70 epaokn n nspao
"Ah, a pipe! Do you want some yellow
perfumed tobacco that 7 receive every
month from Constantinople, a treat right
from the harenl? I VIII get enough for
you, II You Hike 1t, to smoke ten thousand
pipes full"
II prefer eaporal," replied Rouletabille
"But you are right. II is not wise to sus-
pect anybody. See. watch, wait. There
Is always time, once the game is caught
to say whether it Is a hare OF a wild boar
Listen to ME. then, my good mamma. W.
must know first what is in the phiaL Where
is it?"
Here 1t is."
it in his pocket.
"You wish the general a good appetite
for me. / am going out. l will be bach
In two hours at the latest. And. abov,
all, don't let the general know anything
am going to see one Of my friends wht
lives in the Aptiekarski pereolek."s
Depend on me and get back quickly foI
lcve of me. My blood clogs in my hear
.The little street OF the epotheesries.