14
THE BALLET DANCER'S HUSBAND.
" That surprises me."
"Petron, the Countess Wanda's steward, has
given me a letter which he stole from his mis-
tress."
" I trust that no one saw you talking with
him?"
" No, no, certainly not," answered Lewinski,
and then he proceeded to describe the manner
in which the letter had been placed in his
pocket, handing it to the official as he spoke.
After carefully running a pen-knife under the
seal of the letter, but not until he had first
warmed the blade in the flame of a candle, the
man glanced over the letter, then made a hid-
eous grimace.
" The countess writes to her farmers that she
will expect them in Varsovie on Whit-Sunday."
" There, you see," said Lewinski, with a sat-
isfied air.
"But this contradicts all my information,"
said the other impatiently. " Wrhy this new de-
lay? Who knows," he added, "Whit-Sunday
may mean Easter, however."
"That is not probable," responded Lewinski.
" One fact is very certain," returned the
official, " all our reports agree in declaring that
a conference of the conspirators is to be held
this very night at the Church of the Bernard-
ines, and that Easter day has been selected by
the rebels for the outbreak. You are alone in
your assertion that the meeting takes place at
Saint Charles Borromeo, and that the insurrec-
tion will not take place until Whit-Sunday. If
you are playing us false, Lewinski, have a care;
you will be likely to perish by the knout."
Not a feature of Lewinski's face moved ; but
he could not say that he was faithful.
"I am better informed," was his only re-
sponse.
" A conclusive proof that nothing of the kind
is in progress at the Bernardines," continued
Lewinski, "is that you have a hundred spies
there and they have been able to discover noth-
ing."
"A fine proof, that!" retorted the other;
" half our spies are engaged in the conspiracy.
We pay them and they play the spy on us."
Lewinski started again on hearing these
words, but so slightly that the other did not
observe it.
" How can they do this? You think so only
because you distrust us. The Russian govern-
ment would be better served if it had more con-
fidence in its agents; but no, you leave us en-
tirely iu the dark. We do not even know our
friends from our enemies."
" You say this in order to discover how we
discovered this conspirac3r. Ah well, my dear,
I no longer have any reason to conceal this from
you. It was the Count Wolski who revealed it
to us."
This atrocious falsehood was uttered solely
for the purpose of throwing Lewinski off his
guard by thus aspersing the memory of a man
who had refused to listen to the solicitations of
the Russian government for. twenty years.
Lewinski was not deceived; he saw that he was
still regarded with distrust.
" I always suspected it," was his answer.
A few more questions were put to him, then
the official wrapped a pile of roubles in a bit
of paper, placed it in Lewinski's hand, and dis-
missed him.
But scarcely had Lewinski crossed the thresh-
old than the commissioner rang his bell. A
man entered the office, and in obedience to a
sign from the commissary, descended the stairs
after Lewinski, and followed him.
Lewinski soon discovered that he was under
surveillance. fA step that keeps pace with
yours in a deserted street is unmistakable, even
when it falls upon the snow. Still he did not
turn.
When he reached the new bridge that con-
nects the Faubourg de la Cracovie with the Fau-
bourg de Praga, Lewinski paused and gazed
down upon the river which flowed along be-
tween long rows of leafless poplars. A stifled
voice was heard behind him, mingling its sad
tones with the noise of the ice and the waters.
The spy was singing as he walked, and he was
, singing the first verse of a patriotic hymn com-
posed at the time of the first dismemberment of
Poland. I
The voice died away. Lewinski's heart beat
like a trip-hammer in his breast. But still he
did not turn. Should he reply? The voice was
heard once more. The words of the second
verse floated out on the clear night air, then the
voice became silent again. The two men were
now in the center of the bridge, not six feet
from each other. Lewinski continued his walk,
but he had not yet turned. This time, however,
he responded by singing the third verse.
" Ah! it is upon them that the curse of God
will fall!" suddenly exclaimed the man who had
followed.Lewinski, and the two pretended spies,
who were in reality watching the Russian gov-
ernment in the interest of the sacred cause,
shook hands energetically.
They then proceeded together toward the
Faubourg de Praga. On the way, Lewinski
suddenly became aware of the roll of money
which he had received from the commissary
half an hour before, and which he was still
holding in his hand, and he flung it into the
river.
"Vile gold!" he exclaimed; "I would not
even bestow it in charity."
" Is it on Sunday or Monday?" inquired the
other.
" We shall soon know," Lewinski replied.
They had now reached the faubourg; soon
they entered a rather shabb3--looking house and
the door closed behind them.
In about a quarter of an hour they reappear-
ed, both clad in the garb of a Russian peasant;
a long fur coat, a square cap and high boots,
while their faces were half concealed by full
beards. They hastened toward the bridge,
crossed it, and walked in the direction of the
monastery of the Bernardines.
Unfortunately for them, on leaving the police
office, they had failed to notice a youth, who
was lying in ambush behind the statue of
Sigismond. The lad followed them, barefoot-
ed, keeping on the side of the street that was
hidden in shadow. He heard them singing,
and, though he could not distinguish the words,
he recognized the air, which was familiar to
him, and, when he saw them emerge from the
house they had entered, he instantly recognized
them in spite of their disguise. Ten minutes
afterward he saw them enter the monastery by
a side door. He then ran to the police office,
and on finding himself in the presence of the
commissioner, without waiting to be questioned,
he cried, his eyes sparkling with triumph:
" As truly as I love God, sir, they shook hands
on the bridge, and they are now in the monas-
teiy of the Bernardines. "
The commissioner adjusted his spectacles to
admire the lad.
" Ah! the traitors!" he murmured.
Then, by way of reflection, he added: "I
honestly think there are no spies as faithful as
children. And it is quite natural," he continued,
" for they have no thought of treachery since
they do not know what they are doing."
CHAPTER XL
UNDERGROUND.
The door through which the two pretended
spies had entered the monastery having closed
behind them, they passed through the sacristy
to the crypt below. A small lamp standing on
a tomb was the only light visible. Lewinski
took it, and followed by his companion, made
his way through a labyrinth of passages that
finally led to a trap door, near which a lay
brother was seated. The top of a ladder pro-
jected above this opening. The two conspira-
tors succeeded with the aid of their hands in
crawling down to the foot of the ladder; then
the door was closed above them and they began
to traverse a number of subterranean galleries
under the Hôtel Wanda, for the cloister and the
hotel had been united in this way fifteen feet
below the surface of the earth.
After a few moments of rapid walking they
reached a large vault, circular in form, in which
about fifty persons were seated. Some wore the
brown robes of the Bernardines, others the black
robes of the priests, while others were in citi-
zens' dress. There was but oue woman present.
A lantern was suspended from the vaulted ceil-
ing, casting a faint uncertain light upon these
uncovered heads, and a moist warmth, that
warm dampness which is common to cellars in
the winter season, made the air, heavy and
oppressive.
The assemblage was grave and thoughtful.
Each answered the roll-call in a subdued voice.
Now and then the thunder of the organ could
be distinctly heard; the hymns chanted by the
crowd around the statue ofthe Virgin were also
wafted down to them through the gratings of
them homage, for these two men had accepted
by far the most painful and humiliating rôle of
all who had united for the enfranchisement of
Poland, for it was not only their lives that they
risked, they sacrificed something far more
precious—their honor.
They seated themselves with their backs to
the wall: the others followed their example,
leaving a large vacant space in the center of the
hall. Finally an old man rose and came for-
ward—a venerable priest. He had large, gentle
blue eyes; his snowy beard swept his breast,
and his black robe descended to his feet.
He gazed long and silently around him, re-
garding these youthful and energetic faces, upon
which he felt that he was looking for the last
time, with compassionate affection; then he
folded his arms upon his breast and said :
"My children, we have united ourselves for
the triumph of the holiest and purest cause. The
holiest of causes is that of God; next to that, is
the cause of one's country. Now, more than
ever before, they are inseparable, for the for-
eign yoke which we detest not only oppresses
us in our liberty, our laws, and our customs,
but above all in our religion. There is no
longer any security for our religious faith or for
priests in Poland. Our tyrant is not content
with declaring Polish nationality extinct, but
he goes still further. He has taken our con-
vents to transform them into prisons; our
churches to convert them into barracks. He
takes several thousand of our children from us
every year to rear them in Russia, in the lan-
guage and religion of the Muscovites, and we
have seen a mother in our midst, maddened by
despair, strangle her son with her own hands,
preferring to see him die than to see him abjure
his religion. The shameful course adopted for
the purpose of extirpating the Roman Catholic
religion from our country has been pursued
with cruel perseverance. In less than ten years
more than two hundred religious institutions
have been abolished in our provinces, and their
property confiscated. Czenstocliova, the most-
revered spot upon Polish territory, has been
pillaged; a large number of ecclesiastics have
been obliged to undergo imprisonment, trans-
portation, and exile. ' Half the Catholic
churches have been made over to the Greek
Church, and orders have been given that when-
ever a Greek church falls to pieces or is de-
stroyed by any cause, a Catholic church shall
be taken to supply its place. So many out-
rages have exhausted our patience. It is true
our Saviour has said: 'Give unto Cassar the
things that are Cœsar's;' but Poland does not
belong to the Russians, at least it belongs to
them only by right of violence; besides, a
sovereign bas a right to the submission of a
people only while he respects its religious faith.
Our faith is menaced and persecuted. In the
holy name of God, rise to defend it. The time
has come! The hour of your deliverance has
sounded."
The priest reseated himself. Every heart
was oppressed, but no sound was heard save a
long sigh, and with it the far-off chanting in
the church, where the despairing wails of the
Dies Irae were resounding.
Then Count Ladislas, the husband of the
Countess Wanda, rose.
"You have heard the crimes perpetrated
against our religion," he began. "I will speak
of those committed against our liberties. Since
the revolution of 1831, all the stipulations of
the Vienna Congress have been ruthlessly vio-
lated. We are governed by what is known as
the'Statuts Organiques.' This edict declares
that Poland shall henceforth be regarded as an
integral part of Russia, and that its inhabitants
shall henceforth form only one and the same
nation with the Russians. The Polish army
has ceased to exist; our soldiers are compelled
to serve in the regiments of our oppressor, and
the Muscovite cockade has replaced that which
Kosciusko wore. Nor is this all. The country
has been deprived of all its commercial fran-
chises; the king's château has been stripped of
its treasures and of its historical trophies; the
halls in which the Diet assembled have been
converted into barracks. Varsovie, degraded
from its rank as the capital of a great kingdom
to that of the leading city of a Russian province,
has seen her university closed, her public
library, her museums, all her collections of sci-
ence and art transferred to St. Petersburg, and
as if tyranny wished to add insult to outrage, a
^deputation of Poles must be sent to thank the
the cellar
When Lewinski and his companion appeared [ czàr for the' benefits he has condescended to
in the door-way, the entire assembly rose to do  confer upon us. So not content with despoiling
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