CHAPTER XXI.

CONTRABAND VISIT TO RUSSIAN POLAND.

AN opportunity presenting itself of visiting the frontier, combined with the possibility of passing a night or two in Russian Poland, without being subjected to the disagreeable ceremony of stripping to the skin for the edification of the custom-house authorities, I gladly availed myself of it. The prospect of leading the Cossacks a dance on the ice was too irresistible to permit of my thinking twice about accepting the offer of my friend, the proprietor of a village on the Russian shore of a picturesque lake, which divides the Grand Duchy of Posen from the Kingdom of Poland. He assured me that the ice was like glass, and, as skating is not an accomplishment much in vogue with the Cossacks, there seemed every probability of our getting off unscathed in case of pursuit. It is true that the costume of the Cossack is not complete without a long rifle, or double-barrel gun (stolen from some Polish sportsman, either murdered or undergoing imprisonment with a rope round his neck in the nearest town), but this weapon, though calculated to inspire terror when slung at the back of the wearer, in the hands of a Cossack is really not formidable. The Cossack is little more skilful at handling a fowling-piece than at disport

ing himself on the ice. If he misses a sitting shot at a correspondent in a tree, as in the case of Mr. Apel, it is hardly probable that he would be more successful at bringing him down on the ice. Anyhow, the chances were so much in favour of the skater, that I determined to run the risk if the occasion should offer. There was, however, another circumstance to be taken into consideration, which might have turned out more disagreeable. I understood that the Prussian patrols were in the habit of taking a shot at any unauthorized individual discovered crossing the frontier, and, as the lake in question was half a mile across, the shooter would have ample time to take aim. If the Prussian military confined themselves to this amusement, there would still be a good deal to find fault with; but they did not scruple to pursue their game, whether wounded or not, into their neighbours' preserves, sometimes to the extent of four English miles, a species of neutrality which should be made public. In the Russian quarters, along the frontier, they were received with all the hospitality which they showed to Cossacks pushed by the insurgents into Prussian territory. So we resolved to carry our prudence to the length of waiting for nightfall to pass the lake. For the Prussians love beer more than they hate the Poles, to say nothing of their aversion to support the cold of a Polish winter night in the open.

It was exciting enough waiting on the banks of the lake. In the summer, the Prussian authorities of the little town of Powidz, with its red-roofed church and white houses, presenting an appearance not unlike Baveno, on the Lago Maggiore, took the precaution to seize all the boats on the lake, so that they fondly hoped

to have rendered the passage of insurgents impossible. It would appear, however, that that mysterious, invisible influence, called the National Government, had almost the waves and the winds at its command; at any rate, it could not only call boats from the deep, but they would come, and all through the summer this spot was selected as a favourite point of departure for detachments, entering the kingdom. Very different was the aspect of the lake in winter. Instead of pleasant greensward stretching down to the water's edge, chequered by "the shade of melancholy boughs," we had one vast white sheet spread out before us, so that where the land ended. and the lake began could only be distinguished by considerable scrutiny. The boughs, indeed, had a most melancholy air, but did not by any means express "an humorous sadness."

When night set in, the moon gave just light enough to enable us easily to find the path, without rendering us conspicuous from a distance. A peasant, who had been across to reconnoitre, and who reported that the coast was clear, led the way. After skirting the borders of the lake till we found ourselves immediately opposite Kossewo, the village we were making for, we struck boldly across, and trusted that the Prussian patrols were carousing in the taverns of Powidz. There proved to be far too much snow to render skating feasible, but where the moon disclosed here and there a black patch of ice gleaming through the snow, I could see that my friend's comparison of it to a mirror had not been exaggerated. In places, the lake is supposed to be unfathomable, and is unsurpassed in its abundant supply of fish. At one moment the ice gave way under my

feet, with a thrilling crack, but it turned out only to be a bit of surface ice. Occasionally we cast a glance back at the lights of Powidz, and down the lake to Kochowo and Giwartewo, where we knew for certain that the Russians were established, but our main and steadfast gaze was directed to the opposite shore, where the trees and bushes seemed to offer most perfect shelter for Objeszczyki," the terror of insurgents and individuals on contraband errands.

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In less than a quarter of an hour we set foot on Russian soil in the neighbourhood of those unpleasant bushes, from which, happily, no crack of a rifle broke the creeping silence. Our anxiety was not yet at an end. However, much to our satisfaction, no human being encountered us except a peasant girl, who, recognising my companion, her master, went through the usual gestures intended to represent kissing his feet, but not actually reaching below his shins. Somewhat reassured by this act of obeisance, we approached the house for which we were making by a side entrance, which rendered passing through the village unnecessary. This was only a prudent precaution, as notwithstanding the fact that the peasantry of Kossewo were decidedly favourable to the insurrection, having joined the insurgent ranks in considerable numbers, it was still always possible to find spies among them. On entering the house, my friend found his mother in despair, as she had just received intelligence that the Russians, who but the day before had arrested the proprietor of the next village, having maltreated him shamefully, were about to make a revision on her premises, so that she momentarily expected their arrival. I therefore experienced,

for some twenty-four hours, the painful feeling of suspense which is the normal mental state of the educated classes in the Kingdom of Poland. It may be imagined that, under the circumstances, anything in the shape of real sleep was out of the question. The difference between writing from a country house in Russian Poland on the one hand, and the profound security of the town of Posen on the other, was painfully striking. It did not suffice to establish yourself in Warsaw (which, by the way, was then altogether prohibited), under the protection of your consul, and with your papers perfectly en règle. It was absolutely necessary that there should be a dash of contraband in your proceedings, which alone could give the key to the habitual insurgent frame of mind. To me it appeared inconceivable that the Polish proprietors had not gone mad en masse long ere this. My host, for instance, in the course of the summer, had to choose between being hung by the Russians-with whom he was unjustly supposed by his countrymen to be on too familiar terms-or by the Poles. He preferred the first alternative, and would have been hung had the Russians not been engaged in hanging his man of business, which just gave him time to escape across the frontier. From that time he had only dared from time to time to visit his home furtively for a night or two. On one occasion he saved himself by crouching in the bottom of a boat, half under water, while his house and garden were occupied by a hundred or two Russian soldiers. While I passed the night in his dining-room, my host dared not remain in his own residence, and slept in one of his peasant's cottages. In the morning we received intelligence that the