The Boy Nihilist | Page 2

Petersburg, Russia?"
"Well, I did intend to go there at once, and from there visit the different capitals."
"And will you go to St. Petersburg?"
"Certainly."
"And will you do me a favor--will you do it in the cause of human liberty?" asked the stranger, catching hold of his hand.
"I will."
The stranger appeared like a Russian or a Polish Jew, but there was something about him that seemed to interest Barnwell.
"Can I trust you beyond a doubt?"
"I think you can in ordinary matters. Why do you ask?"
"For very good reasons. And when you know that the lives and liberty of hundreds of brave men and women depend upon your trust and faith, will you swear to be true?"
"I will swear, sir," said Barnwell, earnestly, for he was becoming more strongly interested.
The stranger appeared to hesitate as though not daring to trust the entire importance of the business to the young man. But he finally concluded what to do, evidently, and drawing Barnwell still further away from the throng, he took a large brown envelope from the breast-pocket of his coat.
"Everybody in St. Petersburg knows Prince Mastowix, and it will be an easy matter for you to find and approach him, seeing that you have your passport all right. Will you swear to me to place this envelope in his hand, allowing no one else to see or handle it?" asked the stranger, with great earnestness.
"I will swear to do so if you will tell me your name, and assure me that I shall not be breaking any law of my country by so doing."
"Paul Zobriskie is my name," said he, after hesitating an instant, and gazing sharply at the brave youth before him.
"I think I have heard the name before, in connection with socialistic matters," mused Will.
"Very likely; but keep that to yourself, for it will be better for you not to know me in Russia. As to the other, I assure you that you will break no law, social, moral, or political, in giving this to Prince Mastowix."
"Very well. On those conditions I will convey the packet to him," said he, taking it.
"Good; and the prince will be of great service to you during your stay in Russia, and perhaps furnish letters which will assist you in many other capitals."
"Thanks. That is just what I require, as I have no letters of introduction anywhere beyond my passport, and shall be a stranger everywhere," said Barnwell, evidently delighted with such a prospect.
"Good speed to you," said Zobriskie, shaking him cordially by the hand.
"Thank you," and they parted, Barnwell thrusting the envelope into his breast-pocket.
He returned to his waiting friends and apologized for his protracted absence.
"Do you know that man, Billy?" asked one of his friends.
"Well, not particularly. He wanted me to deliver a letter for him, that's all."
"Well, keep an eye on yourself."
"What for?"
"That man is an exiled Nihilist, and there may be danger in what you are doing," said he.
"Oh, I guess not. It is only to deliver a letter to a certain man in St. Petersburg," replied Barnwell, carelessly.
"Well, in these times, anything that is connected in the remotest way with the city of the Czar is suspicious. Have an eye to yourself, Billy," he added again.
"Oh, never fear. I shall at least do that. But come, I have some good cheer waiting for you in my cabin. Friends, follow me," said he, leading the way through the crowd to the cabin stairway.
And there they gathered to receive his cheer, and to wish him all the fortune and good luck that could wait on mortal man.
But while all this was going on there was a pair of small black eyes fastened upon him, as his own shadow might cling to him--fastened from the moment Paul Zobriskie drew him aside to converse.
Those eyes belonged to one Tobasco, a Russian detective, stationed in New York, and he knew his business thoroughly, having been intrusted with the duty of watching the Nihilists who were fermenting plans against the empire on this side of the Atlantic.
He had overheard but little that had passed between Paul Zobriskie and the unsuspicious young American, but while his eyes appeared directed in some other way, he saw the well-known Russian Nihilist deliver him a parcel, knowing him to be going to St. Petersburg (for this much he had overheard), and it at once became his duty to shadow this young man and ascertain the nature of his mission, even though he did not know it himself.
So he at once took measures to provide himself with a passage, and going on shore, he purchased a few necessaries which he had not time to get from his lodgings, and he wrote a letter to his landlord, informing him of his unexpected departure, together with instructions regarding his personal effects.
Only a few moments