The Cotton Factory Times. — 1894-10-05 (Manchester, Greater Manchester, England)

ILI4PTER 11. A VAIN APPEAL. For some minutes no sound wss beard but the low murmur of the penitent voice. At last it was  over. I The priest whispered a few words, raised his hand, and gave the absolution. The penitent rose to his feet. "Father I" be cried, "you are weeping. I am not worth mourning over. I am but suffering the penalty of my own folly. Thank you a thousand times for coming here, for—" He stopped, for the door opened, and the man who had summoned the priest had entered the room, followed by a thick-set, slouching fellow of immense physical strength. " Are you done with your mummery ?" asked the foremost of the two, with a sraile of concentrated contempt. "My office is done, sir," said Fattier Antonio, rising as he spoke. And, drawing himself up to his full height, the tears still glistening in his eyes, the priest strode forward: " Are you one of the murderes's ?" be asked. "I am one of those who signed this traitor's death-warrant, if that is what you mean." "Then I warn you that I shall do my best to bring you and your companions to justice for this day' work." The only answer to this was a scornful laugh. "Are you a man or a fiend ?" cried the priest. "Have you no mercy, no feeling of ordinary human pity? Can you find it in your heart to murder this poor fellow in cold blood?" , " Those who betray our secrets are our enemies," answered the conspirator. "We are the Czar's enemies; and when be lays his hands on us the gibbet or the living death of the mines is our portion. We are more merciful in our decrees. We punish but with death—sharp, sudden, painless death." Have you no fear of God?" asked the priest. "Do you suppose you can deceive Him with your affectation of a trial, and your jargon about an execution ?" " Take care !" "You shall meet your victim once more—at the judgment-seat I His blood will be a witness against you on that day I I tell you if you had no other crime on your soul than this it would be enough to send you to perdition." With a half artioulate cry of rage the conspirator and Lis companion sprang on the priest and dragged him away. He tried to scream, but a powerful hand was laid on his mouth, while a cloth was passed round his eyes. Then they led him forward along the passage. With one vigorous wrench the priest freed his arm, and tore away the handkerchief from his eyes. That instant he ceased to struggle; he stood petrified with amazement. Before him, framed in a doorway like a picture, stood a maiden, a tall and stately girl. Her auburn hair crowned her head like an aureole, and partly enclosed her white face. Her blue-grey eyes were wide open with astonishment; her lips were slightly parted from the same cause, but no sound escaped them. One hand held back her hair, as if it might Linder her seeing, the other clasped her bosom. The two, the priest and the girl, stood looking at each other for perhaps two or three emends. Then a man's arm was thrown round her shoulders, and, as if against her will, she was drawn backwards, and the door was closed. In another moment the priest was hurried into an adjoining room and forced into a cl lair. "You have broken your word —and you are in our power," said the man who had ac led as leader throughout. "1 have not," said Father Antonio, stoutly. "I had no idea that you contemplated murder.' " Your promise was to make no attempt to identify this house. You said you would submit to be blindfolded." will not condescend to argue with a murderer." "You are in our power, I tell you. What is to hinder our taking your life, as well asithat of the