Natalie..

Northland Age, Volume 3, Issue 20, 18 December 1906, Page 3 (Supplement)

Natalie..

I. “ My lather, you Bent for me ?” Natalie Trepenoff, a commanding figure in her clinging black velvet robe, relieved by touches of sable, laid her hand on her father’s arm, as he sat gazing abstractedly into the blazing fire. Michael Trepenoff pointed silently to a chair, and the girl sank into it. The crackling logs sent up sharp glints of flames that revealed her handsome face, with its classical features, illuminated by a pair of sombre brown eyes. Trepenoff looked round the room quickly and shivered; then, in a voice hardly above a whisper, he broke the silence. “ Listen to me, Natalie. What I have to say is of the gravest importance. My child, there is no need for me to dwell on the deplorable affairs of Russia—of the ■wrongs and sufferings of the unhappy people; of the wild remedies that their despair has evoked. You, I know, pity them as much as I.” “ Yes, father," replied Natalie quietly. “I do pity them, with all my heart; but I trust, for all that, that I am loyal to our Czar. Do not dwell upon this topic ; it is a dangerous one, and I fear."

“ You may well do so,” said her father, with a strange quiver in his voice, “ for I am in great danger !” Natalie leant forward and gazed at him earnestly, with a dread light in her eyes. “ Father,” she whispered, “ you do not mean ” “ I mean that I am with the people, heart and soul; that their cause is my cause ; that since that day which we call * Red Sunday,’l have become a chosen party to their plots and intrigues!” Natalie sank back in her chair, her face no whit whiter than the lace at her throat. “ Father, father!” she said, “ you frighten me!” “There is no need for fear—if you will help me,” returned Trepenoff intensely. “ Natalie, you must see me through; I am your father.”

* “ I wish to Heaven you were not!” exclaimed the woman passionately, her sombre brown eyes flashing, her red lips a formed into a hard, stern line. “ T could almost feel it in my heart to despise you !” 4 “ Hush!” said Trepenoff quickly. 11 “ Hear me to the end. lam the bearer of an important letter, the contents of 1 which I may not reveal, even to you. But 11 I can say this, that there is a tenable ii.sk 11 attached to it—for me. That I do not v fear. For the cause I would bear anything suffer anything. But I am only |§|Hfcne of a party, and caution and steaith d ever be my keynote. In dosperarion, for pity’s sake, if you would save | from a fate worse than itself, 1 \ you to help me—help nit\ Refuse, i wp and lam lost!” i “ First swear to me that the letter will 1 in no way endanger our Czar’s life,” said the gill with a swift indrawing of her i breath. £ “ I can swear to nothing; I only act h blindly, traatfidkyromping that by my dp- e Totio.u «***<*«v 1 «“ "TtW 011 flftj

“ Tell me what you would have me do with this letter,” said Natalie after a while. Once more her father glanced suspiciously round the room; then, bending forwurd. he muttered in her ear : “ Guard it safely; never let it leave your person. Keep it in safe hiding until I ask for it back. With you it will be safe. I may be watched and searched. All I ask of you is that you will keep it until such time as I shall ask for it back, when you will return it, the seal unbroken, just as it is given into your keeping. Promise this, Natalie ! For God’s sake help me through !” For a moment the girl hesitated. Honour, loyalty, duty struggled within her, but only for a moment. Her father’s ashen face, his pleading eyes and trembling, outstretched arms decided her. She put her hand to her throat, as if she could not breathe. “ I will take it,” she said hoarsely. “ Give it to me.” The letter passed swiftly from his hand into hers.

11. J The secret that had been entrusted to “ Natalie seemed to haunt her ; the letter a hidden in her dress felt like a lead weight that she could never forget. Her heart >t would stop beating at the sound of a strange footfall or the approach of a soldier, of which the streets were full. Y One night she and her father were due at a State ball, but the knowledge of the n secret letter she carried with her made pleasure impossible, and she decided to a remain quietly at home, r With this intention in view she sat down to write a few lines of explanation a to her lover, one Karl Balansld, a soldier of the Czar. Having done so, she slipped II out into the garden that ran round the . house, and put the letter in a nook in the j wall, as she had so often done before. Returning to the house she met her

father. “ Are you not ready for the ball ?” he asked. “ I am not going,” retorted Natalie quietly. “lam in no mood for gaiety ; my heart is too heavy.” “ How foolish of you,” cried her father, trembling with excitement. “ Don’t you understand that your absence will be noted, commented upon, questioned ? It will be the greatest possible mistake. You must come!” Natalie sighed wearily, and went up to dress. Mesinwhile, in the garden, a dark figure had loomed out of the darkness—this time Iho fienre of a man. He had gone straight to the nook in the wall, and taken from it the letter that Natalie a little while before had carefully hidden there. .v He tore it open with a smile, but us he read, the smile vanished suddenly. He grow white, and would have staggered had he not loaned against, the old wall for support. He crushed the letter up in his palm, and threw it down, crushing it

irr. v Almost on entering the ball-room that night, that, despite the precarious condition of Russian affairs, was crowded"to its utmost capacity, Natalie caught sight of Karl, and for a brief moment her bitter trouble was forgotton, and love reigned in her heart. To her intense surprise, the smile she gave him met with no response, and when she approached he simply bowed low to her and moved on. Natalie, not understanding, followed him to a secluded corner of the dancing room. “ Karl,” she said, pain and surprise in her voice, “ why do you glance at me so ? What is the matter P ” “ Don’t come near me—don’t address me,” said Balanski harshly. “Let me but tell you one thing, Natalie Trepenoff. I know your wretched secret! Begone ! and never speak to me again! ” And Natalie, with bowed head and almost breaking heart, obeyed him.

At the far end of the room she en- ) countered her father, who quickly drew p her behind the shelter of an alcove hung t with palms. b “The letter! Return it, quick!” he i whispered huskily. > Natalie took it from her dress and handed it to him. 5 Trepenoff clutched it eagerly, and held 3 it up to the light; then he shrank back 3 with a cry. ) “ Great God! ” he almost raved. “This is not the letter I gave you. t Where is it P What have you done with i the one I entrusted to you P ” He clutched • her arm and shook it frantically. I “I don’t understand, father; what haye I done ?” panted Natalie, with a white J face. ! “You have ruined mo! Maybe this ■ will cost me my life!” said her father • hoarsely.

Both stood transfixed, staring at one another, when suddenly, without the slightest warning, a man appeared—apparently from nowhere—and stood before them. The letter Trepenoff held was snatched abruptly from his grasp, whilst a cold, calm voice exclaimed : “M. Trepenoff, the Czar commands your immediate presence. I am sent to conduct you to His Majesty!” “ Who—who is this man ?” whispered Natalie quickly. “ He is a member of the Secret Police,” answered Trepenoff, with a groan. Half an hour later the letter which had been taken from Trepenoff was opened in the presence of the Czar and his Ministers, and found to be a note breathing of love and devotion, and arranging a meeting. Natalie, with trembling limbs and pale face, told how she had written the letter to her lover, giving it into her father’s hand to deliver to him. In a few seconds they quitted the Royal

presence, and were driven home, for their explanation was believed. On the way, Natalie told how she had, unwittingly, changed the letters, thus giving her love note to the spy, and the incriminating one to her lover. Next morning a letter was brought to her from Karl, in which, in a few brief words, he told her that he was leaving the country, adding that her secret was safe with him, but he hoped they might never meet again. “ Father, father,” said Natalie passionately, “ look what you have done !” “Be comforted, my daughter,” said her father gently. Though you have lost your lover, you have saved your old father.” “ From what P” asked the girl wearily. Trepenoff bent towards her. ‘ ‘ From that hell upon earth —Siberia!” he whispered. And Natalie understood. The End.

PRQUD OF HIM. A village schoolmaster invited a friend to see his boys work and see what they did. The schoolmaster noticed one boy stopping in and writing after the others were out playing, so he said to his fidend : * “ That boy writing there is Brown. I am very.proud of Brown. He works well, and is nearly always working.” Then to the boy: “ Brown, bring me the result of your industry.” “ Please, sir, I would rather not,” said the boy. ‘ ‘ it to me ; I wish to show my friend.” Still the boy refused. But the master, at last getting hold of the paper, was flabbergasted to read, in neat imitation of feminine handwriting: “ Please excuse my son, Henry, this afternoon, as he does not feel very well.”

HOW TO PROPOSE. A Hindu father recently received the following letter asking for the hand of his daughter: “ Dear Sir - ,—lt is with the flattering penmanship that I write to have communication with you about the prospective condition of your damsel off-spring. For some remote time to past a secret passion has firing my bosom internally with loving for your daughter. I have navigated every channel in the magnitude of my extensive jurisdiction to cruelly smother the growing love knot that is being constructed in my within side, but the humid lamp of affection still nourishes my love-sickened heart. Hoping that you will concordantly corroborate in expousing your female progeny to my tender bosom, and thereby acquire me into your family circle. —Your dutiful son-in-law.”

BUYING THE RING. In Liverpool recently an Irishman trotted down town to a jeweller's* shop'to buy a ring for his wiffc-to-he. After waiting until he co'uld obtain the ear of the clerk without letting others know his business, Pat whispered hoarsely to him : “ Give me the best wedding ring you have in the shop.” “Eighteen carats?” queried the clerk. “ No,” snapped Pat, drawing hack in an offended manner; “ atin’ onions if it’s any of your business.”

DOESN’T MAKE ANY DIFFERENCE. Call a girl a chick and she smiles; call a woman a hen and she howls. Call a young woman a witch and she is pleased; call an old woman a witch and she is indignant. Call a girl a kitten, and she rather likes it; call a woman a cat and she hates you. Women are queer. If you call a man a gay dog it will flatter him; call him a pup, a hound or a cur, and he will try to alter the map of your face. He doesn’t mind being called a bull or a bear, yet he will object to being mentioned as a calf or a cub. Men are queer, too.

VERY LITTLE DANGER. “ I say, boy,” remarked a would-be fisherman, “ are there any fish in this stream ?” “ Yes.” “ Will they bite ?”

“ None of them ever bit me, mister, but you don’t need to go into the water to fish if you’re afraid of ’em.” THE CHRISTMAS PARTY. Old Mr. and Mrs. Smith were giving their Christmas party, and Mr. Smith was making his usual speech.

“ For forty years have my good wife and I travelled hand in hand down life’s thorny path, and not one single harsh, hasty, or unkind word has passed our lips. Isn’t that so, moth “ Mother ” had quietly fallen asleep on the sofa, aud as he laid his hand caressingly on her shoulder she snorted defiantly and said sharply : “ Get up yourself and light the fire, Sam ! I lit it last, and I’ll see you far enough before I’ll do it this morning, you— Oh, oh ! I—I —why, I must have dropped off to sleep !” “And I think you’d better have stayed asleep, Lily!” hissed Samuel into her ear.

A TALE OF CO 11111’PLASTER. A church officer was hurry i. g his shaving one Sunday liiotaiug, aud cut his nose siigli i Falling to Iris wife, who w is i;: the next room, lie aske 1 wl. tli" court-plaster was. “in my work-basket,” w;, ilie reply. lie soon covered the cut. a:id ■ iii lo church; but when he ■k up the collection he was nmi.ed to see a smile on almost everybody’s face. As lie [i issed from pew to pew, some of the children laughed outright after glancing at him. After the service lie asked the reason for this meirihicnt. “ Well,” said a friend, “ go and look at your nose, and you won’t be surprised at our amusement.” “ Why,” said the officer, “ it’s only a hit of court-plaster.” “ That it isn’t,” was the answer. The man went to the glass, and discovered that he had got a gum label from the end of a reel of cotton on his nose, and on it were the words, “'Warranted two hundred yards long.”

TAKING HIM DOWN-,' i -j. ' Little Ikey, whose father .js a well-known pawnbroker; had recently gone to school; l ’ One afternoon he came strolling into his father’s shop, his books under his arm. “Veil, Ikey, mine son, how vas you gettin’ oil at school ?” “ All right, fader.” “ Veil, Ikey, I vill gif you a lecdle sum to see how you vas gettiu’ on. Twice two, Ikey ?” “ Twice two’s six, fader.” “No, no, Ikey, not six. Twice two’s four.” “ Veil, fader, I vas sure you vould take me down a couple.”

THEIR FIRST. He isu't very h mdsome, but He’s lovely in their eyes ; It’s clever when he chuckles, and It’s music when he ciLs! His looks they are not plentiful, He’s almost bald, ia fac f ; Rut for this fault they both can find Some charm to counteract. He’s noisy, too, without a doubt— Still worse, he cannot talk ; And always must he wheeled about Because he cannot walk. '' Yet when they gaze upon his face, With pride they’re fit to burst; There never was one like him, hut— You see, he is “ their first.” A few people feel more than they can express; hut a thundering lot express a jolly sight mere than they feel. The poets say ’tis love that makes the world go round ; and so it is-—love of money. There is less poverty in regard to money in this world than there is of brains.