Catharines Peril, or The Little Russian Girl Lost in a Forest | Page 4

the frightful panic that prevailed, whilst my wife and I endeavoured to save some of our most valuable effects from the rage of the devouring element, we lost our only child, then in her seventh year. Her nurse had taken her for safety to a house situated in a by-street occupied by a friend of ours, where the fire had not yet reached; but both the child and the nurse disappeared, and since this melancholy catastrophe all our numerous and anxious inquiries respecting them have proved utterly fruitless. Probably they were killed by a falling edifice, and so buried in its ruins; at least, this is my opinion, for my dear wife still has the hope of again beholding our long-lost but dearly cherished child.'
Catharine, who had listened with the most heartfelt interest to this touching recital, could not restrain her emotions any longer. She threw herself on the stranger's neck, exclaiming,
'My father, my dear father!'
It was a most affecting moment. We will not attempt to depict the joy and the thankfulness that filled the hearts of both parent and child. Let our young readers try to imagine themselves in Catharine's situation, or else in her father's; then only can they enter into the real sentiments that overpowered them both. How pleasure and pain are intermingled in this life!
Catharine's delight at being re-united to her dear father was undoubtedly great, but sorrow at the prospect of leaving friends like the Count and Countess proved a trial to the affectionate and grateful girl.
'Then happy those, since each must draw His share of pleasure, share of pain; Then happy those, belov'd of Heaven, To whom the mingled cup is given, Whose lenient sorrows find relief, Whose joys are chastened by their grief.'
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CHAPTER III.
When the first excitement of this unexpected meeting had somewhat subsided, Catharine, in her turn, told of the wondrous and providential dealings to which she was indebted for her preservation amid countless perils.
The good sutler's wife was not forgotten in this extraordinary account; and with what sensitiveness and touching expressions of gratitude she disclosed to her attentive listener the innumerable acts of kindness she had received all these years from the noble Polish lord and his lady, who had loaded her with constant benefits, and had in every respect treated her as their own child.
In a few days Catharine's father had quite recovered from the effects of his wound. His business required attention, and he was impatient to restore his beloved child to her mother's arms, so father and daughter bade adieu to the Polish Count and Countess, but not before assuring them that their gratitude would never cease as long as they lived.
M. Somoff and his long-lost Catharine returned to Moscow, where they were welcomed with surprise and joy by the delighted mother, who forgot all her sorrows when once more embracing her child, who had been lost to her for so many long years.
Very soon the young Russian's marvellous history became known. She was asked in marriage by an officer holding high rank in the army, and in due time she became his wife.
Ten years passed.
Great changes had taken place on the Continent of Europe. Poland had proclaimed its independence, and Nicholas, the Emperor of all the Russias, had an immense army in the field to repress the efforts of this brave but most unfortunate nation.
The horrors that were perpetrated, and the sad issue of this too unequal warfare, are well known.
Catharine's husband had taken part in this campaign, and she had followed him to the camp.
We will not stop to describe the heartrending scenes connected with this war, but merely inform the reader that Warsaw was taken by assault; and in this is included a whole chapter of misery. On this fatal day many thousand Poles as well as Russians lost their lives. In the course of the evening after the battle, the superior officers of the triumphant army went to inspect the scene of the late bloody combat, where heaps of dead and dying were lying in confusion, for there might be seen the victor and the vanquished side by side.
Moved by charity, touched with compassion for the fate of those to whom fortune had been so unpropitious, Catharine's husband sent all who still retained a breath of life to the hospitals and ambulances. He was just on the point of leaving this desolate spot, when, casting his eye on a heap of corpses being covered over with earth, he noticed a Polish officer of high rank, decorated with numerous crosses and medals. He thought he saw some signs of animation, so he had him removed, and carefully conveyed to the house in which Catharine then was. Once there, every possible care was bestowed upon him. By degrees he recovered from his lethargy, and looked around