(Continued.)
A T about two o'clock in the morningof November tenth, the bell of myapartment was rung violently.The porter, (charged by the municipality with the care of the house andresponsible to it for the safety of its occupants) opened the door and there entereda Russian officer with a police agent andabout fifty soldiers. The porter was immediately arrested and the house occupiedby the military; as the soldiers took possession of one room after another, a guardwas placed at each door. They finallyentered my bedchamber. What a uselessshow of force—to arrest one man whowould have appeared at court without ado,upon the receipt of a written document!“Get up, sir, you are my prisoner,” theofficer cried out gruffly, as though to drownthe humane promptings of his heart. “Willyou be kind enough to let me see your warrant?” I cooly asked. “Fiddlesticks! Awarrant? My word is my warrant,” hethundered.
A thorough search was made of my apartments, in which I obligingly assisted the officer in charge. My recent Polish sermons were the particular object of his quest, and I handed him these with exaggerated politeness. It was a source of satisfaction to me to try to tame this ruffian. He grew more moderate and began to apologize for his unpleasant duty, mumbled something about the distressing features connected with his office, and actually grew quite civilized over a cup of coffee.
At last it was time to proceed to the citadel, whither a carriage was waiting to take me and my escort. On the way I learned that Meisels, Kramstueck, and the President of the United Congregations, Herr Feinkind, were being arrested at the same
time. In spite of my commiseration for Meisels, now in his sixtieth year, and for Kramstueck, a man with many domestic cares, who was being dragged from the midst of a large family, not any too well provided for, I could not refrain from laughing at the blunder committed in arresting Feinkind, innocent as a babe. All his principles were business principles, though, in spite of that, he concerned himself with neither free trade nor protection. In fact, had he been asked to choose between Poland and Russia, he doubtless would have sided with the latter, since Poland had no military contracts to let. Although he made a conscientious presiding officer, the civic honors paid to the occupant of the chair of the United Congregations were the main objects of his ambition. It was not the first time that Warsaw had occasion to be amused at the Government groping about in darkness and so often sending some of its most faithful adherents to the citadel, that it almost ceased to be an honor to be confined in Pavilion Number Ten, the portion reserved for political prisoners.
In the courtyard of this pavilion I met Meisels nervously clasping a book, a faithful friend in need, as it were; I recognized him in the semi-darkness by his proud upright bearing; we could exchange but a hasty greeting. A question of etiquette having arisen between our escorting officers as to which one should have the precedence in delivering up his prisoner, I yielded in favor of Meisels. I was led to a waiting-room where a tallow-dip, set in its own drippings for a candlestick, was placed upon a bench for me, and then with most cordial wishes my escort left me to await my turn after Meisels to be taken