acquires a fortune out of Polish money, and
then betrays us in order to decorate his breast
with the Red Eagle.

Cavalry horses are sent into the camp free of
cost, or are purchased by the national intendant;
necessaries of life are obtained from the country
people.

After having inspected the troops, I and the
whole corps of officers accompanied the major to
his tent, where dinner was served at a table
formed of a board nailed upon a tree-stump.
The dinner consisted of a piece of roast beef; a
cask of wine had been furnished by a nobleman
in the district; and we had brought fresh bread
with us from the town. " Long life" was drunk
"to free Poland," and repeated with enthusiasm
by the soldiers.

They were talking eagerly in the camp about
a Russian spy. His name, I believe, was
Niemeksza; he was seated on a waggon-load of peas
with two other Russian soldiers, when he was
seized by a patrol of Chmielinski's corps, and
was about to be driven on to the camp, when it
was perceived that he was scattering the peas
along the road to serve the Russians as traces
for their pursuit. This artifice, however, being
observed in time, the patrol were about to shoot
him, when he prayed so piteously for his life,
and made it out so clearly that he was a
fellow-countryman, that they spared him, and took him
with them to the camp. When Chmielinski heard
what they had done, he immediately gave orders
to have the fellow hanged. The whole camp
prayed for his life, but Chmielinski was
immovable, and ordered him and two other spies
for execution. The colonel's commands would
have been punctually obeyed, but that the
hangman blundering in some way with the
noose, no sooner was Niemeksza hoisted up
than he came down again, and at once began to
beg and pray for his life afresh. The end was,
that he again escaped death. After a few days
there was again fighting, and the spy, availing
himself of the opportunity, went over to the
enemy, and, being rewarded with the cross of
bravery, was sent to the garrison town of Kielce.
Here one day he chanced to meet the executioner
from the Polish camp; but, instead of showing
his gratitude in any way, he gave him up to
the police, and the compassionate Pole was
hanged. After this, not many more spies will
escape Polish vengeance.

On one occasion a female Russian spy fell
into Chmielinski's hands. They shaved her
head, and then gave her a pass, with the
announcement that if ever she repeated her
crime she would be hanged.

I returned to L., and thence to Cracow. Here
I found the commands of the National Government
awaiting me. They required my presence at
Warsaw without delay; and I took leave of my
friends on the following day. On leaving Cracow,
I was again obliged to present my passport. In
three hours we reached the Polish frontiers. The
change was very apparent. Upwards of twenty
soldiers with flat-nosed countenances, and in
old grey coats and fantastic caps, no two alike,
were in the station. Exit hence was barred,
and we were obliged to give up our passports to
an officer, who, as far as dirt was concerned,
was no way superior to his soldiers, before we
were allowed to leave the carriages. All the
passengers were then collected into a little
room, soon after which the officer in command
appeared. He was a man of perfectly Tartar
physiognomy, and examined us from top to toe
with an impatient inquisitorial glance. Our
passports were then stamped and marked with secret
signs and returned to us; the same process was
resumed on the examination of our luggage, and
on the giving out of the railway tickets.

One of my travelling companions told a
gentleman that I was a Swede, on my way to
Warsaw to gain some information regarding my
imprisoned countrymen. When I was about to
take my seat, this same gentleman approached,
offered me his hand, and, speaking very cordially
in French, advised me how I had best proceed for
the attainment of my object on reaching Warsaw.

"I am Commander D., of the Gonowska
corps, in the waiwode of Warsaw," he said; " you
see, therefore, sir, that you may follow my advice.
I love the Swedes, with whose country I am
acquainted, therefore I take an interest in you."

I bowed, pondering within myself how I was
to receive all this, when a young lady, the wife
of this gentleman, approached and showed the
same family regard towards me.

Behind me stood the Russian excise-officer
with his extended palm. I gave him ten
copecks, an inconsiderable sum, but he received it
nevertheless. After which the common soldiers
thronged round me, each of whom called me
"little gentleman," " little father," if I gave
them anything, and " dog" if I did not.

The train was put in motion. I was seated
in a first-class carriage, at first alone, but was
joined by a young lady at the station where
the Prussian line falls into this. That she was
a Pole was evident from her mourning attire; a
long black silk dress, a black burnous lined with
black silk, and the white collar covered with
black tulle. Some little act of courtesy was the
occasion of our conversing together. We
conversed in French; at length I could no longer
forbear, and began to speak Polish. My
companion for the first moment looked astonished,
but before long it was as if we had known each
other for twenty years. She told me how she
had suffered in Poland, and that she was now on
her way from Posen, where her brother had died
of his wounds. She told me that before she
set out for Posen she had given her housekeeper
commands, in case the French or the Swedes
should come, to place her dwelling at their
disposal. I gave her the hope that before very
long she might have to fling garlands to those
victorious allied armies in Warsaw.

It was about ten at night when we entered
the station at Warsaw.

But now the carriage doors were beset with
gendarmes and our passports taken from us,
after which we were shut up in the waiting-room.
A young engine-driver was taken into