A FEMALE NIHILIST. A TRUE STORY OF LIFE IN RUSSIA. (ABRIDGED FROM THE "CORNHILLMAGAZINE.")

Te Aroha News, Volume II, Issue 93, 14 March 1885, Page 5

A FEMALE NIHILIST. A TRUE STORY OF LIFE IN RUSSIA. (ABRIDGED FROM THE "CORNHILL MAGAZINE.")

(By " Shepniak," author of u Underground Russia," Sco.)

I. On the 27th July, in the year IS7B, the little town of Talutorovsk, in Western Siberia, was profoundly excited by a painful event. ' A political prisoner, namod Olga Liubatovitch, it was said, had miserably put an end to her dayi. She was universally loved and esteemed, and her violent death therefore produced a most mournful impression throughout the town, and the Ispravnik, orchiefof the police, was secretly accused of having driven the poor young girl, by his unjust persecutions, to take away her life. Olga was sent to Talutorovsk, some months after the trial known as that of the "fifty "of Moscow, in which she was condemned to nine years' hard labour for Socialist propagandism, a punishment afterwards commuted into banishment for life. Unprovided with any means whatever of existence, for her father— a poor engineer with a large family, could send her nothing — Olga succeeded, by indefatigable industry, in establishing herself in a certain position. Although but little skilled in female labour, she endeavoured to live by her needle, and became the milliner of the semi- civilised ladies of the town, who went into raptures over her work. Not unfrequently she even took the place of the district doctor, a worthy man who, owing to old age and a partiality for brandy, was in such a state that he could not venture upon delicate operations, because his hands shook. Sho acted for him also in many serious cases baflliug his antediluvian knowledge. Some of her cures were considered marvellous ; among others, that of tho district judge, wham, by determined treatment, she had saved after a violent attack of delirium tremens, a malady common to almost all men in that wild country. In a word, Olga was in great favour with the peaceful citizens of Talutorovsk. The hatred of the police towards her was all the greater for that reason. Her proud and independent disposition would not permit her to submit to the stupid and humiliating exigencies of the representatives of the Government Those representatives, barbarous and overbearing as they were, considered every attempt to defend personal dignity a want of respect towards themselves—nay, a provocation, and neglected no occasion of taking their revenge. There was always a latent war between Olga and her guardians, a war of the weak, bound hand and foot, against the strong, armed at all points ; for the police have almost arbitrary power over tho political prisoners who are under their surveillance. Before long, on a trumpery charge, proceedings were taken against her before the district judge, the very man whom she had cured of delirium tremens, vvho sentenced her to three days' solitary confinement. It was confinement in a dark, fetid hole, full of filth and vermin. Merely in entering it she was overcome with disgust. When she was released she seemed to have passed through a serious illness. It was not, however, the physical sufferings she had undergone so much as the humiliation she had endured, which chafed her proud disposition. From that time she became gloomy, taciturn, abrupt. She Jspent whole days shut up in her room, without seeing anybody, cr wandered away from the town into the neighbouring wood, and avoided people. She "was evidently planning something. Among the worthy citizens of Talutorovsk, who had a compassionate feeling towards her, some said one thing, some another, but no one foresaw such a tragic ending as that of which rumours ran on July 27th. In the morning the landlady entered her room and found it empty. The bed, undisturbed, clearly showed that she had not slept in it. She had disappeared. The first idea which flashed through the mind of the old dame was that Olga had escaped, and she ran in all haste to inform the Ispravnik, fearing that any delay would be considered as a proof of complicity. The Ispravnik did not lose a moment. Olga Liubatovitch being one of the most seriously compromised women, he feared the severest censure, perhaps even dismissal, for his want of vigilance. He immediately hastened to the spot in order to discover, if possible,the direction thefugitive had taken. But directly he entered the room he found upon the table two letters signed and sealed, one addressed to the authorites, the other to the sister of Olga, Vera Liubatovitch, who had also been banished to another Siberian town. These letters were immediately opened by the Ispravnik, and they revealed the mournful tact that the young girl had not taken to flight, but had committed suicide. In the letter addressed to the authorities she said, in a few lines, that she died by her own hand, and begged that nobody might be blamed. To her f-i?ter she wrote more fully, explaining that her life of continuous annoyance, of inactivity, and of gradual wasting away, which is the life of a political prisoner in Siberia, had become hateful to her, that she could no longer endure it, and preferred to drown herself in the Tobol. She finished by affectionately begging her sister to forgive her for the grief she might cause her and her friends and companions in misfortune. Without wasting a moment the Ispravnik hastened to the Tobol, and there he found the confirmation of the revelation of Olga. i Parts of her dress dangled upon the bushes, under which lay her bonnet, lapped by the rippling water. Some peasants said that on the pre^'ous day they had seen the young girl wandering on the bank with a gloomy and melancholy aspect, looking fixedly at the turbid waters of the river. The Ispravnik, through whose hands all the correspondence passed of the political prisoners banished to his district, recalled certain expressions and remarks that had struck him In the last letters of Olga Liubatovitch, the meaning of which now became clear. There could no longer be any doubt. The Ispravnik sent for all the fishermen near, and began to dragtho river with poles, casting in nets to recover the body. This, however, led to nothing. Nor was it surprising ; the broad river was so rapid that in a single night it must have carried a body away — who knows how many leagues? For three days the Ispravnik continued his efforts, and stubbornly endeavoured to make the river surrender its prey. But at' last, after having worn out all his people and broken several nets against the stones and old trunks which the river mocked him with, he had to give up the attempt as unavailing.

11. The body of Olga, her heart within it throbbing with joy and uncertainty, had meanwhile been hurried away, not by the yellow waters of the Tobol, but by a vehicle drawn by two horses galloping at full speed. Having made arrangements with a young rustic whom, in her visits to the neighbouring cottages in a medical capacity, she

had succeeded in converting to Socialism, Olga disposed everything so as to make it be believed that she had drowned horself, and on the night fixed secretly left her house and proceeded to the neighbouring forest, where, at a place agreed upon, her young disciple was awaiting her. The night was dark. Beneath the thick foliage of that ] virgin forest nothing could be seen, nothing could be heard,but the hootings of the owls, and sometimes, brought from afar, the howling of the wolves, which infest the whole of Siberia. As an indispensable precaution, the meeting-place was fixed at a distance of about three miles, in the interior of the forest. Olga had to traverse tho distance in utter darkness, guided only by the stars, which occasionally pierced through the dense foliage. She was not afraid, however, of the wild beasts, or of the highwaymen and vagrants who are always prowling round the towns in Siberia. It was the cemetery- keeper's dog she was afraid oh The oemeteries are always well looked after in that country, for among the horrible crimes committed by the scum of the convicts one of the most common is that of disinterring and robbing the newly buried dead. Now, the keeper of tho cemetery of Talutorovsk was not to be trifled with ; his dog still less so. It was a mastiff, as big as a calf, ferocious and vigilant, and could hear the approach of anyone a quarter of a mile off. Meanwhile the road passed close to the cottage of the solitary keeper. It was precisely for the purpose of avoiding it j that Olga, instead of following the road, had plunged into the forest, notwithstanding the great danger of losing her way. Stumbling at every step against the roots and old fallen trunks, pricked by the j thorny bushes, her face lashed by boughs I elastic as though moved by springs, she kept on for two hours with extreme fatigue, sustained only by the hope that she would ■ shortly reach the place of meeting, which could not be far off. At last, indeed, tho darkness began to diminish somewhat and the trees to become thinner, and a moment afterwards she entered upon open ground. Shfi suddenly stopped, looked around, her blood freezing with terror, and recognised the keeper's cottage. She had lost her way In the forest, and, after so many windings, had gone straight to the point she wished to avoid. Her first impulse was to run away as fast as her remaining strength would enable her, but a moment afterwards a thought flashed through her mind which restrained her. No sound came from the cottage ; ill was silent. What could this indicate but the absence of the occupant ? She stood still and listened, holding her breath. In the cottage not a sound could be heard, but in another direction she heard, in the silence of the night, the distant barking of a dog, which seemed, however, to be approaching nearer. Evidently the keeper had gone out, but at any moment might return, and his terrible dog was perhaps running in front of him, as though in search of prey. Fortunately from the keeper's house to tho place of appointment there was a path which the fugitive had no need to avoid, and she set off and ran as fast as the fear of being seized and bitten by the ferocious animal would allow her The barking, indeed, drew nearer, but so dense was the forest that not even a dog could penetrate it. Olga soon succeeded in reaching tho open ground, breathless, harassed by the fear of being followed and the doubt that she might not find anyone at the place of appointment. Groat was hor delight when she saw in the darkness the expected vehicle, and recognised tho young peasant. To leap into the vehicle and to hurry away was the work of an instant. In rather more than five hours of hard driving they reached Tumon, a town of about IS,OO » inhabitants, fifty miles distant from Talutorovsk. A few hundred yards from the outskirts the vehicle turned into a dark lane and very quietly approached a house where it was evidently expected. In a window on the first floor a light was lit, and the figure of a man appeared. Then the window wa9 opened, and the man, having recognised the young girl, exchanged a few words in a low tone with the peasant who was acting as driver. The latter, without a word, rose from his seat, took the young girl in his arms, for she was small and light, and passed her on like a baby into tho robust hands of the man, who introduced her into his room. It was the simplest and safest means of entering unobserved. The peasant went his way, wishing the young girl aji flpecess, and Olga was at last able to takd a few hours' rest. Her first step had succeeded. Many were the perils from which, thanks to her cleverness, she escaped. But her greatest troubles awaited her in the city she so ardently desired to reach, St. Petersburg.

111. It was at St. Petersburg that I first met her— not at a " business " gathering, but one of mere pleasure. She was seated at the end oi the sofa, and, with her head bent, was slowly sipping a cup of tea. Her thick black hair, of which she had an abundance, hung over her sholdGrs, the ends touching the bottom of the sofa. When she rose it almost reached to her knees. The colour of her face, a golden brown, like that of the Spaniards, proclaimed hor Southern origin, her father and grandfather having been political refugees from Montenegro who had settled in Russia. There was nothing Russian, in fact, in any feature of her face. With her large and black eyebrows, shaped like a sickle as though she kept them always raised, there was something haughty and daring about her, which struck one at first sight, and gave her the appearance of the woman belonging to her native land. From her new country she had derived, however, a pair of blue eyes, which always appeared half closed by their long lashes, and cast flitting shadows upon her soft cheeks when she moved her eyelids, and a lithe, delicate, and rather slim figure, which somewhat relieved the severe and rigid expression of her face. She had, too, a certain unconscious charm, slightly statuesque, which is often met with among women from the South. Gazing at this stately face, to which a regular nose with wide nostrils gave a somewhat aquiline shape, I thought that this was precisely what Olga Liubotovitch ought to be as I had pictured her from the account of her adventures. But on a sudden she smiled, and I no longer recognised her. She smiled, not only with the full vermilion lips of a brunette, but also with her blue eyes, with her rounded cheeks, with every muscle of her face, which was suddenly lit up and irradiated like that of a child. To see this young girl, so simple, so quiet, and so modest, who became burning red, bashfully covered her face with both hands, and hurried away upon hearing some poetry dedicated to her by some former disciple— to see this, young girl, I say, it was difficult to believe that she was an escaped convict, familiar with condemnations, prisons, trials, escapes, and adventures of every kind. It was only necessary, however, to see her for once at work to believe instantly in everything. She was transformed, displaying a certain natural and spontaneous instinct which was something between the cunning of a fox and the skill of a warrior. This outward simplicity and candour served her then like the shield of

Mambrino, and enabled her to issue unscathed from perils in which many men, considered able, would unquestionably have lost their lives. Oneday the police, while making a search, really had her in their grasp. A friend, distancing the gendarmes by afew moments, had merely only time to rush breathless up the stairs, dash into the room where she was, and exclaim, "Save yourself I the police !" when the police were already surrounding the house. Olga had not even time to put on her bonnet. Just as she was, she rushed to the back stairs, and hurried down at full speed. Fortunately, the street door was not yet guarded by the gendarmes^ and she was able to enter a little shop on the ground floor. She had only twenty kopecks in her pocket, having been unable in her haste to get any money. But this did not trouble her. For fifteen kopecks she bought a cotton handkerchief, and fastened it round hor head in the style adopted by coquettish servant girls. With the fivo kopecks remaining she bought some nuts, and left the shop eating them in such a quiet and innocent manner that the detachment of police, which meanwhile had advanced and surrounded the house on that side, let her pass without even asking her who she was, although the description of her was well known, for her photograph had been distributed to all the agents, and tho police havo always strict orders to let no one who may arouse the slightest suspicion leave a house which they have surrounded. This was not the only time that she slipped like an eel through tho fingers of the police. She was inexhaustible in expedients, in stratagoms, and in cunning, which she always had at her command at such times ; and with all this she maintained hor serious and severe aspect, so that she seemed utterly incapablo of lending herself to deceit or simulation. Perhaps sho did not think, but acted upon instinct rather than reflection, and that was why she could meet overy dangor with the lightning liko rapidity of a fencer who parries a thrust.

IV. The romanco of her life commenced during hor stay in St. Petersburg, after her escape. She was one of the so-called "Amazons," and was one of tho most fanatical. She ardently preached against love and advocated celibacy, holding that with so many young men and young girls of the present day lovo was a clog upon revolutionary activity. She kept her vow for several years, but was vanquished by the invincible. There was at that time in St. Petersburg a certain Nicholas Morosoff, a young poet and brave follow, handsome, and fascinating as his poetic dreams. He was of a graceful figure, tall as a young pine-tree, with a fine head, an abundance of curly hair, and a pair of chestnut eyes, which soothed like a whisper of love, and sent forth glance 3 that shone liko diamonds in the dark whonever a touch of enthusiasm moved him. The bold " Amazon " and the young poet met, and their fate Mas docided. I will not tell of the delirium and transports through which they passed. Their lave was like some delicate and sonsitivo plant, which must not be rudely touched. It was a spontaneous and irresistible feeling. They did not perceive it until they wore madly enamoured of each other. They became husband and wife. Ib was said of them that whon they were together inexorable Fat<|' had no heart to touch them, and that it* cruel hand became a paternal one, whicli warded off tho blows that threatened them. And, indeed, all their misfortunes happened to them when they were apart. This was the incident which did much to give rise to the saying. In November, 1879, Olg.i fell into the hands of the police. It should be explained that when these succeed in arresting a Nihilist they always leave in the apartments of the captured person a few men to take into custody anyone who may come to see that person. In our language, this is called a trap. Owing to the Russian habit of arranging everything at home, and not in the cafes, as in Europe, the Nihilists are often compelled to go to each other's houses, and thus these trap 3 become fatal. In order to diminish the risk, safety signals are generally placed in tho windows, and are trken away at the first sound of the police. But owing to the negligence of tho Nihilists themselves, accustomed as they are to danger, and so occupied that they sometimes have not time to eat a mouthful all day long, the absence of these signals is often disregarded, or attributed to some combination of circumstances — the difficulty, or perhaps the topographical impossibility, of placing signals in many apartments in such a manner 'that they can bo seen from a distance. This measure of public security frequently, therefore, does not answer its purpose, and a good half of all the Nihilists who have fallen into the hands of the Government have been caught in these very traps. A precisely similar misfortune happened to Olga, and the worst of it was that it was in the house of Alexander Kviatkovsky, one of the Terrorist leaders, where tho police found a perfect magazine of dynamite, bombs, and similar things, together with a plan of the Winter Palace, which, after the explosion there, led to his capital conviction. As may readily be believed, the police would regard with anything but favourable eyes everyone who came to the house of such a man. ] Directly she entered, Olga was immediately seized by two policomen, in order to prevent her from defending herself. She, however, displayed not tho slightest desire to do so. She feigned surprise, astonishment, and invented there and then the story that she had come to see some dressmakers (who had, in fact, their names on a doorplate below, and occupied the upper floor) for the purpose of ordering something, but had mistaken the door ; that she did not know what they wanted with her, and wished to return to her husband, etc. ; the usual subterfuges to which tho police are accustomed to turn a deaf ear. But Olga played her part so well that the pristav, or head of thepoliceof thedistrict, was really inclined to believe her. He told her that anyhow, if she did not wish to be immediately taken to prison, she must give her name and conduct him to her house. Olga gave the first name which came into her mind, which naturally enough was not that under which she was residing in the capital, but as to her place of residence she declared, with every demonstration of profound despair, that she could not and would not take him there or say where it was. The pristav insisted, and upon her reiterated refusal, observed to tho poor simple thing that her obstinacy was not only prejudical to her, but even useless, as, knowing her name, he would have no difficulty in sending some one to the Adressni Stoland obtaining her address. Struck by this unanswerable argument, Olga said she would take him to her home. No sooner had she descended into the street, accompanied by the pristav and some of his subalterns, than Olga met a friend, Madame Maria A., who was going to Kviatkovsky's, where a meeting of Terrorists had actually been fixed for that very day. It was to this chance meeting that the Terrorists owed their escape from the very grave danger which threatened them; for the windows of Kviatkovsky's rooms were so placed that it was impossible to see any signals there from the street.

Naturally enough, the two friends made no sign to indicate that they wero acquainted with each other, but Madame Maria A., on seeing Olga with the police, ran in all haste to inform her friends of the arrest of their companion, about which there could be no doubt. The first to be warned was Nicholas Morosoff, as the police in a shorl timo,' would undoubtedly go to his house and make the customary search. Olga felt this was precisely what her friend would do, and thereforo her sole object now was to delay her custodians so as to give Morosoff time to " clear " his rooms (that is to say, destroy or take away papers and everything compromising), and to got away himself. It was this that sho was anxious about, for he had been accused by the traitor Goldenberg of having taken part in the mining work connected with tho Moscow attempt, and by the Russian law was liablo to the penalty of death. Greatly omboldened by this lucky meeting with her friend, Olga, without saying a word, conducted the police to the Ismailovsky Polk, one of tho quarters of the town most remote from the placo of her arrest, which was in the ftlevsky district They found tho street and the house indicated to them. Thoy entered and summoned the dvornik (doorkeeper), who has to be present at every search made. Then camo tho inovitable explanation. Tho dvornik said that he did not know the lady, and that she did not lodge in that house. Upon hearing that statement, Olga covered her face with her hands, and again gave way to despair. She sobbingly admitted that she haddecoived them from fear of her husband, who was very harsh, that she had not given her real name and address, and wound up by begging them to let hor go homo, "What's the use of all this, madam?" exclaimed the pristav. "Don't you see that you are doing yoursolf harm by theso tricks ? I'll forgivo you this time, because of your inoxperienco, but tako caro you don't do it again, and leaf! us at onco to your house, or otherwise you will repont it." After much hesitation, Olga resolved to obey the injunctions of the pristav. She gavo her name, and said she lived in one of tho lines of the Vasili Ostrov. It took an hour to reach the placo. At last they arrived at the house indicated. Here precisely the same scene with the dvornik was repeated. Then tho pristav lost all patience, and wanted to tako her away to prison at once, without making a search in her house. Upon hearing the pristav's harsh announcement, Olga flung herself into an arm-chair and had a violent attack of hysterics. They fetched some water and sprinkled hor faco with it to revive her. When sho had somewhat recovorcd, the pristav ordered her to rise and go at onco to the prison of tho district. Her hysterical attack recommenced. But the pristav would stand no more nonsense, and told her to get up, or otherwise he would havo hor taken away in a cab by main force. Tho despair of the poor lady was now at its height. " Listen ! " sho exclaimed. " I will tell you everything now." And she began the story of her life and marriage. She was the daughter of a rustic, and she named the province and the village. Up to the age of sixteen she remained with her father and looked after the shoep. But one day an engineer, hor futuro husband, who was at work upon a branch lino of railway, came to stop in the house. Ho fell in love with her, took her to a town, placed her with his aunt, and had teachers to. educate her, as she was illiterate and knew nothing. Then ho married her, and they lived very happily together for four years ; but he had since become discontented, rough, irritable, and she feared that he loved her no longer ; but she loved him as much as ever, as she owed everything to him, and could not be ungrateful. Then she said that he would be dreadfully angry with her, and would perhaps drive her away if she went to tho house in charge of the police ; that it would be a scandal ; that he would think she had stolen something ; and so on. When Olga had finished her story the pristav began to console her. He said that her husband would certainly pardon her when ho heard her explanation ; that the same thing might happen to any one ; and so on. Olga resisted for a while, and asked tho pristav to promise thai he would assure her husband sho had done nothing wrong ; and moro to the same effect. The pristav promised everything, in order to bring the matter to an end, and this time Olga proceeded towards her real residence. She had gained three hours and a half ; for hor arrest took place at about two o'clock, and &he did not reach her own home until about half- past fivo. She had no doubt that Morosoff had got away, and after having "cleared" the rooms had thrice as much time as he required for the operation. Having ascended the stairs, accompanied by tho dvorniks and the police, she rang tho bell. The door opened and tho party entered, first the antechamber, then the sitting-room. There a terrible surprise awaited hor. Morosoff in person was seated at a table, in his dressing-gown, with a pencil in his hand and a pen in his ear. Olga fell into hysterics. This time they were real, not simulated. How was it that he had remained in tho house ? Tho lady previously mentioned had not failed to hasten at once and inform Morosoff, whom sho found at home with three or four friends. The rooms were at once " cleared" with the utmost rapidity. When all was ready and they were about to leave, Morosoff staggered his friends by acquainting them with the plan he had thought of. He would remain in the house alone and await the arrival of the police. They thought he had lost his senses : for everybody knew, and no one better than himself, that, with tho terrible accusation hanging over his head, if once arrested it would be all over with him. But he said he hoped* it would not come to that— nay, he expected to get clear off with Olga, and in any case would share hor fate. They would escape or perish together. His friends heard him announce this determination with mingled feelings of grief, astonishment, and admiration. Neitherentreatiesnor remonstrances could shake his determination. He was firm, and remained at home after saying farewell to his friends, who took leave of him as of a man on the point of death. He had drawn up his plan, which by the suggestion of some mysterious instinct perfoctly harmonised with that of Olga, although they had never in any way arranged the matter. He also had determined to feign innocence, and had arrasged everything in such a manner as to make it seem as though he were the most peaceful of citizens. As he lived under the false passport of an engineer, phe covered his table with a heap of plans of various dimensions, and, having put on his dressinggown and slippers, set diligently to work to copy one, while waiting the arrival of his unwelcome guests. It was in this guise and engaged in this innocent occupation that he was surprised by the police. The scene which followed may easily be imagined. Olga flung her arms round his neck, and poured forth a stream of broken words, exclamations, extsuses, and complaints of these men who had arrested her because she wished to call

upon her milliner. In the midst, however, ot those exclamations, she whispered in his ear, " Have you not been warned ?" "Yos,"he replied in the same manner, "everything is in order. Don't be alarmed." Meanwhile he played the part of an affectionate husband mortified by the } scandal. After a little scolding and then a little consolation, he turned to the pristav and asked him for an explanation, as he could not quite understand what had happened from the disconnected words of his wife. The pristav politely told the whole story. The engineer appeared greatly surprised and grieved, and could not refrain from somewhat bitterly censuring his wife for her unpardonable im-' prudence. The pristav, who was evidently reassured by the aspect of the husband and of the whole household, declared nevertheless that he must make a search. "I hopo you will excuso me, sir," he added, "but lam obliged to do it ; it is my duty." "I willingly submit to the law," nobly replied the onginoer. Thereupon lie pointed to the room, so as to indicate that the pristav was free to search it thoroughly, and having lit a candle with his own hand, for at that hour in St. Petersburg it was already dark, he oponod tho door of tho adjoining room, which was his own little placo. The search was made. Certainly not a single scrap of paper was found, written or printod, which smelt oi Nihilism. " By rights I ought to tako the lady to prison," said the pristav, when he had finished his search, " especially as her previous behaviour was anything but what it ought to have been ; but I won't do that, I will s>imply keop you under arrest here until your passports have boon verified. You sco, sir," ho added, " wo police officers are not quite so bad as the Nihilists make us out." "Thero aro always honest men in every occupation," replied the engineer. More compliments of the same kind, which I need not repeat, were exchanged botwoen them, and tho pristav went away with most of his men, well impressed with such a polite and pleasant reception. He left, howevor, a guard in the kitchen, with strict injunctions not to lose sight of the host and hostess, until further orders. Morosoff and Olga wore alono. Tho first act of the comedy they had improvised had met with complete success. But the storm was far from having blown over. The verification of their passports would chow that they woro falso. The inevitable consequence would bo a warrant for their arrest, which might be issued at any moment if the verification wero made by means of tho telegraph. Tho sentinel, rigid, motionless, with his sword by his side and his revolver in his belt, was seated in the kitchen, which was at the back, exactly opposite the outer door, so that it was impossible to approach the door without being seen by him. For several hours they racked their brains and discussod, in a low voico, various plans of escape. To free themselves by main force was not to be thought of. No arms had been left in the place, for they had been purposely taken away. Yet without weapons, how could they grapplo with this big, sturdy fellow, armed as he was ? Thoy hoped that as the hours passed on he would fall asloep. But this hopo was not realised. When, at about half-past ten, Morosoff, under the pretext of going into his little room, which was used for various domestic purposes, passed near the kitchen, he saw the man still at his post, with his eyes wide open, attentive and vigilant as at first Yet when Morosoff returnod Olga would havo declared that the way was quite clear and that they had nothing to do but to leave, so beaming were his eyes. He had, in fact, found what he wanted — a plan simple and safo. Tho little room opened into a small corridor which served as a sort of ante-chambor, and its door ilankcd that of the kitchen. In returning to tho sittingroom Morosoff observed that when the door of tho little room was wide opon, it completely shut out tho view of the kitchen, and consequently hid from the policeman the outer-door and also that of the sitting-room. It would be possible, therefore, at a given moment to pass through the ante- chamber without being seen by the sontinel. But this could not bo done unless some one came and opened tho floor of the little room. Neither Olga nor Morosoff could do this, for if under some pretext they opened it, they would of course havo to leave it open. This would immediately arouse suspicion, and the policeman would run after them and catch thorn perhaps before they had descended the staircase. Could they trust the landlady? The temptation to do so was groat. If she consented to assist them, success might bo considered cortain. But if sho refused ! Who could guarantee that, from fear of being punished as an aocomplico, sho would not go and reveal everything to tho police ? Of course she did not suspect in tho least what kind of people her lodgers were. Nothing, thereforo, was said to her, but they hoped nevertheless to have he unconscious assistance, and it was upon that Morosoff had based his plan. About eleven o'clock sho went into the little room, where the pump was placed, to get the water to fill tho kitchen cistern for the next day's consumption. As tho room wag very small, she generally left one of the two pails in the corridor, while she filled the other with water, and, of course, was thus obliged to leave tho door open. Everything thus depended upon the position in which she placed her pail. An inch or two on one side or the other would decide their fate ; for it was only when the dpor of the little room was wido open that it shut out the view of tho kitchen and concealed the end of the ante-chamber. If not wido open, part of the outer door could be seen. There remained half an hour before the decisivo moment, which both employed in preparing for flight. Their wraps were hanging up in the wardrobe in the ante-chamber. Th6y had, therefore, to put on what they had with them in the sitting-room. Morosoff put on a light summer overcoat. Olga threw over her shoulders a woollen scarf to protect her somewhat from the cold. In order to deaden as much as possible the sound of their hasty footsteps, which might arouse the attention of the sentinel in the profound silence of the night, both of them put on their goloshes, which, being elastic, made but little noise. They had to put them on next to their stockings, although it was not particularly agreeable at that season, for they were in their slippers, their shoes having been purposely sent into the kitchon to be cleaned for the following day in order to remove all suspicion respecting their intentions. Everything being prepared, they remained in readiness, listening to every sound made by the landlady. At last came the clanging of the empty pails. She went to the Jittle room, threw open the door, and began her work. The moment had arrived. Morosoff cast a hasty glance. Oh, horror ! The empty pail scarcely projected beyond the threshold, and the door was at a very acute angle, so that even from the door ot the sitting-room where they were part of the interior of the kitchen could be seen. He turned towards Olga, who was standing behind him holding her breath, and made an energetic sign in the negative. A few minutes passed, which seemed like hours, i The pumping ceased ; the pail was I full. She was about to place it on

the floor. Both stretched their necks and advanced a step, being unable to control the anxiety of their suspense. This time the heavy pail banged against the door and forced it back on its hinges, a stream of water being spilt. The view of the kitchen was completely shut out, but another disaster had occurred. Overbalanced by the heavy weight, the landlady had come half out into the corridor. " She has seen us," whispered Morosoff, falling back pale as death. "No," replied Olga, excitedly ; and she was right. The landlady disappeared into the little room, and a moment afterwards recommenced her clattering work. Without losing a mement, without even turning round, Morosoff gave the signal to his companion by a firm grip of the hand, and both issued forth, hastily passed through the corridor, softly opened the door, and found themselves upon the landing of the staircase. With cautious steps they descended, and were in the street, illclad but very light of heart. A quarter of an hour afterwards thsy were in a house where they were being anxiously awaited by their friends, who welcomed them with joy more easy to imagine than to describe. In their own abode their flight was not discovered until late in the morning, when the landlady came to do the room. When the police became aware of the escape of the supposed engineer and his wife, they saw at once that they had been outwitted. The pristav, who had been so thoroughly taken in, had a terrible time of it, and proceeded with the utmost eagerness to make investigations somewhat behindhand. The verification of the passports of course showed that they were talse. The two fugitives were therefore " illegal " people, but the police wished to know, at all events, who they were, and to discover this was not very difficult, for both had already be^n in the hands of the police, who, therefore, were in possession of their photographs. The landlady and the dvornik recognised them among a hundred shown to them by the gendarmes. A comparison with the description of them, also preserved in the archives of the gendarmerio, left no doubt of their identity. It was in this manner the police found out what big fish they had stupidly allowed to escape from their net, as may be seen by reading the report of the trial of Sciriaeff and his companions. With extreme but somewhat tardy zeal, the gendarmos ransacked every place in search of them. They had their trouble for nothing. A Nihilist who thoroughly determines to conceal himself can never be found. He falls into the hands of the police only when he returns to active life. When the search for them began to relax, Olga and Morosoff quitted their place of concealment and resumed their positions in the ranks. Some months afterwards they went abroad in order to legitimise their union, so that if some day they were arrested it might be recognised by tho police. They crossed the frontier of Roumania unmolested, stopped thero some time, and having arranged their private affairs, went to reside for awhilo at Geneva, where Morosoff wished to finish a work of some length on the Russian revolutionary movement. Here Olga gave birth to a daughter, and for awhile it seemed that all the strength of her ardent and exceptional disposition would concentrate itself in maternal love, She d'd not appear to care for anything. She seemed even to forget her husband in her exclusive devotion to the little one. There was something almost wild in the intensity of her love. Four months passed, and Morosoff, obeying the call of duty, chaffing at inactivity, and eager for the struggle, returned to Russia. Olga could not follow him with her baby at the breast, and, oppressed by a mournful presentiment, allowed him to depart alone. A fortnight after he was arrested. On hearing this terrible news, Olga did not swoon, she did not wring her hands, she did not even shed a single tear. She stifled her grief. A single, irresistible, and supreme idea pervaded her — to fly to him ; to save him at all costs; by money, by craft, by the dagger, by poison, even at the risk of her own life, so that she could but save him. And the child? That poor little weak and delicate creature, who needed all her maternal care to support its feeble life? What could she do with tho poor innocent babe, already almost an orphan ? She could not take it with her. She must leave it behind. Terrible was the night which the poor mother passed with her child before setting out. Who can depict the indescribable anguish of her heart, with the horrible alternative placed before her of forsaking her child to save the man she loved, or of forsaking him to save the little ono. On the one side was maternal feeling ; on the other her ideal, her convictions, her devotion to the cause which he steadfastly served. She did not hesitate for a moment. She must go. On the morning of the day fixed she took leave of all her friends, shut herself up alone with her child, and remained with it tor some minutes to bid it farewell. When she issued forth, her face was pale as death and wet with tears. She set out. Sho moved heaven and earth to save her husband. Twenty times she was within an ace of being arrested. But it was impossible for her efforts to avail. As implicated in the attempt against the life of the Emperor, he was confined in the fortress of St. Pater and St. Paul ; and there is no escape from there. She did not relax her efforts, but stubbornly and doggedly continued them, and aH this while was in agony if she did not constantly hear about her child. If the letters were delayed a day or two, her anguish could not be restrained. The child was ever present in her mind. One day she took compassion on a little puppy, still blind, which she found upon a heap of rubbish, where it had been thrown. "My friends laugh at me," she wrote, " but I love it because its little feeble cries remind me of those of my child." Meanwhile the child died. For a whole month no one had the courage to tell the sad news. But at last the silence had to be broken. Olga herself was arrested a few weeks afterwards. Such is the story, the true story, o* Olga Liubatovitch. Of Olga Liubatovitch, do I say? No of hundreds and hundreds of others. I should not have related it had it not been so.

Twenty theatres in Europe are in receipt of State aid. Tho Paris Opera receives £32,000 a year; the German "Royal" theatres get £28,000 at Berlin ; at Stuttgart, £24,000 ; at Dresden, £16,000 ; at Carlsruhe and Weimar, £10,000 each ; and Munich, £S,OOO. The Imperial Theatre at Vienna has £12,000 a year ; the Royal Theatre of Copenhagen, £10,000, andthatof Stockholm, £6,000. In Italy, the San Carlo, at Naples, receives £12,000 ; the Apollo, at Rome, £11,500 ; the Scala, at Milan, £7,000 ; the Bellini, at Palmero, £5,000 ; the Royal Theatre, at Turin, £2,400 ; the Pergola, at Florence, £16,000 ; and the Carlo Felice, at Genoa, £400. The Theatre Frangais has £9,600 a year, and the Op6ra Comique. £5,600.-" Truth."