country and his home. Since Beniowski the Pole made his famous
romantic flight from the coal-mines of Kamschatka in the last century,
there has been but a single instance of a Siberian exile making good
his escape. In our day, M. Rufin Piotrowski, also a Polish patriot,
has had the marvelous good-fortune to succeed in the all but
impossible attempt; and he has given his story to his countrymen in a
simple, unpretending narrative, which, even in an abridged form, will,
we think, be found one of thrilling interest.

In January, 1843, we find Piotrowski in Paris, a refugee for already
twelve years, and on the eve of a secret mission into Poland of which
he gives no explanation. By means of an American acquaintance he
procured a passport from the British embassy describing him as Joseph
Catharo of Malta: he spoke Italian perfectly, English indifferently,
and was thus well suited to support the character of an Italian-born
subject of Queen Victoria. Having crossed France, Germany, Austria and
Hungary in safety, he reached his destination, the town of Kamenitz in
Podolia, on the Turkish frontier. His ostensible object was to settle
there as a teacher of languages, and on the strength of his British
passport he obtained the necessary permission from the police before
their suspicions had been roused. He also gained admission at once
into the society of the place, where, notwithstanding his pretended
origin, he was generally known as "the Frenchman," the common nickname
for a foreigner in the Polish provinces. He had soon a number of
pupils, some of them Poles--others, members of the families of Russian
resident officials. He frequented the houses of the latter most, in
order not to attract attention to his intercourse with his
compatriots. He spoke Russian fluently, but feigned total ignorance
both of that and his own language, and even affected an incapacity for
learning them when urged to do so by his scholars. Among the risks to