Produced by Richard Halsey
THE BOY NIHILIST,or,Young America in Russia
By ALLAN ARNOLD.
CHAPTER I.
THE UNSUSPECTING TRAVELER.
The steamship Baltic was on the point of sailing from America to Europe.
The usual scenes were visible on the wharf--the rushing on board ofbelated freight and baggage--the crush of passengers and their friendson deck, or down in the cabins, where partings were being drunk in wine;the crowd of steerage passengers forward, trying to keep out of the wayof the sailors, and at the same time to salute or converse with theirfriends on the dock; the rattle and bustle all around; the blow of steamfrom the impatient boilers; the sharp, brisk orders of the juniorofficers; the rush of carriages with passengers, and the shouting ofdraymen anxious to get their loads aboard--all these sights and soundswere both felt and visible as a bright-looking young man, distinctlyAmerican to all appearances, alighted from a cab and walked up thesteamer's gang-plank, followed by a porter and the driver with trunksand parcels.
He was indeed a bright-looking youth, such as you will find in New Yorkoftener than anywhere else, and as he reached the deck his hand wasgrasped by several young and enthusiastic friends who had come aboard tosee him off.
This was William Barnwell, a young New Yorker, slightly over twenty-oneyears of age, who had recently inherited quite a fortune from a deceasedrelative, and he was now on the point of starting on a tour which heintended should encompass the globe.
He was now alone in the world, so far as relations were concerned,although he had a large circle of friends to whom he was greatlyattached, as they were to him.
From boyhood up he had always been an enthusiast in almost everything,but more especially in politics and revolution, as shown in nationalstruggles, and the pride of his life was the history of the AmericanRevolution, and the success of the patriots in that cause.
But outside of his being an enthusiast and a lover of liberty, he wasnot known, and had never taken any prominent part in any of the socialor political movements of the day, beyond sympathizing with thestruggles of the working men and women of the world in their strugglesto better themselves.
These facts were not only known to his friends, but to many menbelonging to the secret societies of Ireland, Germany, and Russia. Thatis to say, they knew him only as a bright young fellow, possessingbrains and pluck, together with enthusiasm, which, if rightly directed,would make him a valuable member of any secret organization having theliberty of the people at heart. But beyond this nothing particular wasknown of him.
His friends gathered around and wished him a prosperous voyage and ahappy return, and with refreshments and flowers they expressedthemselves as only New Yorkers do on such occasions.
And as he stood there on deck, surrounded by his friends, he lookedindeed like a representative American young gentleman.
He was light-complexioned, nearly six feet in height, and proportionedlike an athlete; bright, smart, and intelligent.
And while the excitement of "sailing-day" was at its height, and youngBarnwell was in the midst of his friends, a strange man approached andtapped him on the shoulder.
The young man turned to see who it was, but he did not know him.
"Can I speak a word with you?" the stranger asked, with a strong foreignaccent.
"Certainly. Excuse me a moment, my friends. I will join you presently,"said Barnwell, walking away with the stranger, a little way forward ofthe main hatch, out of the crowd.
"You are William Barnwell, I believe?" said the stranger.
"Yes, that is my name," said Will.
"I was sure of it. You are going abroad for pleasure, I understand?"
"Yes."
"You are an American?"
"I am proud to acknowledge it," said Will, drawing himself up to hisfull height.
"And let me tell you, young man, I know you thoroughly--know you for athorough-bred American gentleman."
"Thank you."
"You would do almost anything in the cause of human liberty?"
"I would."
"I wish I had known you before."
"Why?"
"I might have bound you closer."
"To what?"
"The heart of human liberty."
"What do you mean?"
"I cannot tell you now. But when will you go to St. Petersburg, Russia?"
"Well, I did intend to go there at once, and from there visit thedifferent capitals."
"And will you go to St. Petersburg?"
"Certainly."
"And will you do me a favor--will you do it in the cause of humanliberty?" asked the stranger, catching hold of his hand.
"I will."
The stranger appeared like a Russian or a Polish Jew, but there wassomething 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 ofhundreds of brave men and women depend upon your trust and faith, willyou swear to be true?"
"I will swear, sir," said Barnwell, earnestly, for he was becoming morestrongly interested.
The stranger appeared to hesitate as though not daring to trust theentire importance of the business to the young man. But he finallyconcluded what to do, evidently, and drawing Barnwell still further awayfrom the throng, he took a large brown envelope from the breast-pocketof his coat.
"Everybody in St. Petersburg knows Prince Mastowix, and it will be aneasy matter for you to find and approach him, seeing that you have yourpassport all right. Will you swear to me to place this envelope in hishand, 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 thatI shall not be breaking any law of my country by so doing."
"Paul Zobriskie is my name," said he, after hesitating an instant, andgazing sharply at the brave youth before him.
"I think I have heard the name before, in connection with socialisticmatters," mused Will.
"Very likely; but keep that to yourself, for it will be better for younot to know me in Russia. As to the other, I assure you that you willbreak no law, social, moral, or political, in giving this to PrinceMastowix."
"Very well. On those conditions I will convey the packet to him," saidhe, taking it.
"Good; and the prince will be of great service to you during your stayin Russia, and perhaps furnish letters which will assist you in manyother capitals."
"Thanks. That is just what I require, as I have no letters ofintroduction anywhere beyond my passport, and shall be a strangereverywhere," 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 hisbreast-pocket.
He returned to his waiting friends and apologized for his protractedabsence.
"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 aredoing," 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 waywith 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 goodcheer waiting for you in my cabin. Friends, follow me," said he, leadingthe wa
y through the crowd to the cabin stairway.
And there they gathered to receive his cheer, and to wish him all thefortune and good luck that could wait on mortal man.
But while all this was going on there was a pair of small black eyesfastened upon him, as his own shadow might cling to him--fastened fromthe moment Paul Zobriskie drew him aside to converse.
Those eyes belonged to one Tobasco, a Russian detective, stationed inNew York, and he knew his business thoroughly, having been intrustedwith the duty of watching the Nihilists who were fermenting plansagainst the empire on this side of the Atlantic.
He had overheard but little that had passed between Paul Zobriskie andthe unsuspicious young American, but while his eyes appeared directed insome other way, he saw the well-known Russian Nihilist deliver him aparcel, knowing him to be going to St. Petersburg (for this much he hadoverheard),
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