Her friend Anna Korba[101] I had also known in Petersburg in 1879; she had then just returned from the seat of war in Turkey, where she had been nursing the wounded. She belonged to a German family named Meinhardt, naturalised in Russia, numerous members of which had filled high official positions, and she herself married a foreigner. She had been extremely active in philanthropic work, and was adored by the people of the provincial town where she lived; but she learned by bitter experience how futile, under the existing political conditions, were all attempts to effect even the smallest reforms by merely quiet educative means, and she joined the terrorist society Naròdnaia Vòlya in the beginning of the eighties .

It was just then that the desperate struggle of that party against the Tsar’s despotic government had reached its height. Anna Korba saw her friends and comrades arrested by the dozen, sent to the scaffold, or buried alive in prison. The “white terror” raged. In 1882 the chief of the secret police, Soudyèhkin, had succeeded in capturing most of the Terrorists who still remained at large after the assault on Alexander II., and Anna Korba took up the task of continuing the struggle in company with the last remnants of the fighters. A secret laboratory for the manufacture of dynamite bombs was set up in Petersburg; this was discovered by Soudyèhkin, and in June, 1882, Anna Korba 268was arrested, together with Gratchènsky, the officer Butzèvitch, and the married couple Prybylyev. Next spring she was tried with sixteen others, and sentenced to twenty years’ penal servitude.

Anna Korba was a highly educated woman, in character courageous, even-tempered, and persevering. She holds the same views to-day as when she first threw herself into the fight, and this unswerving faith in her cause impresses with respect even people who cannot share her opinions Wedding Master.

Before I proceed to describe the other inmates of the women’s prison, I must digress for a moment to relate an incident which in its time caused great excitement among the newspaper-reading public. Towards the end of February, 1881, the police of Petersburg had their suspicions directed to a certain cheesemonger’s shop in that city, where something illegal was supposed to be going forward. A search-party, one member of which was an engineer of the pioneer corps, was sent to investigate, but discovered nothing of any consequence. The next day came the assassination of the Tsar, and three days after that the cheese-shop was suddenly deserted by its occupants, among whom had been a married couple calling themselves Kòbozev—peasants from the interior of Russia, according to their perfectly regular papers reenex hong kong.

search, and found that a subterranean passage had been made from the cheese-shop to the Màlaya Sadòvaya, a street through which the Tsar often passed. This tunnel had been meant to serve as a mine for blowing up the Tsar’s carriage in case the bombs had failed to do their work. It is easy to imagine what must have been the feelings of the two revolutionists who passed under the name of Kòbozev when the police made their first visit to the shop; the underground passage had then just been completed, and the cases and barrels, supposed to contain cheese, were filled with the earth that had been dug out. Had the police but lifted the straw 269matting that covered them, the whole plot, like many others before, might have been doomed to failure.