The Catholic World, Vol. 04, October, 1866 to March, 1867Various
Religion
The Catholic World, Vol. 04, October, 1866 to March, 1867
Various
Catholic Church -- Periodicals
"Around the margin of the lake the ice was to some extent broken,
and their evident intention was to throw him in. We ran to meet
them, and if possible prevent the horrid act of retribution. But we
were too late; they had selected the part of the bank nearest the
road, as it was higher than the rest; and just as we came painting
up, we saw the body of the steward swaying in the hands of a dozen
of the man, and heard the fatal words given out by Matt: '_Ras, dwa,
tree_' (One, two, three); then a cry of despair, above the yelling
of the crowd; than a plunge in the water; no, two plunges. The
ragoshkie, or bark mat, containing the heavy stone which was to keep
the steward down, had not been a good one; for as the body passed
through the air, the stone fell from the mat, splashing a second or
two before, and a little beyond the spot where he came down. He
disappeared under the water for a moment or two, then made desperate
efforts to scrambled to his feet, in which he succeeded, standing up
to his shoulders in the shallow water, and with the mat bag,
drenched and limp, hanging from his neck. There he stood within
twenty feet of the bank, facing a thousand yelling enemies. Outside
was plenty of firm ice; but between him and them there might be
thirty feet of deep clear water, the bed of the lake dipping many
feet immediately beyond where he stood. He seemed to comprehend his
position, and was evidently making up his mind to contend with the
deep water rather than with the turned worms upon the bank. He had
raised one arm, either for entreaty or defiance, and had taken off
few steps toward the ice, when one of the many stones thrown at him
struck the uplifted arm and it fell powerless to his side. Another,
but a softer missile, struck him on the head. He fell down under the
water, and again recovered his feet; but the stones were now--like
hail about him. The serfs were as boys pelting a toad or frog--and
their victim in the water did look like a great overgrown toad.
"Saunderson and I had made several attempts to be heard, or to
divert the attention of the people; but it was spending idle breath:
'Go away; it is not your business,' some of the men said; others,
more savage, asked how we would like the same treatment."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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