The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1893-09-18
THE SECOND PLACE

IHE AEGUND PLAGE
tcoNTfsuED FROM SECOND PAGE,l
dreary PLAIN as If she had been guarded
by regiment.
Then better times dawned, though
never an answer to her petition.
A new governor was appointed, and
he heard her story. She no longer dis
guised herself now, though she still
dressed as peasant, not being able to
afford anything better. Felix felt SO
happy when he saw her sweet face, and
the few words they exchanged were
chiefly about their looks.
Five years had passed in hope. and then
one day great joy came to them. On
the great fete days the prisoners of five
years standing might see their friends
alone for a few hours. Doris thought
she should go mad with joy the night be-
fore the event took place, but her heart
was cruelty torn when she was ushered
into the prisoners cell.
Still, their first meeting alone, how
sweet It wasl They could not speak, and
for few minutes Doris cried little as
Felix gathered her to his arms and whis-
pered:
Doris, my wife, It was for her-for
Poland. Can you forgive me?"
II am satisfied" she said. II would
not have 1t otherwise"
The next five years fed much more
quickly, and still Doris wrote and wrote.
She only asked for freedom, not for
money or for lands, bat no answer came.
One day, however. the governor sent
for her to his room, and she quickly ap-
peared before him. She was so young
still, only 90, and she looked younger
and. oh, so beautiful! The governor Won
dered as he looked at her how she could
live this life of hardship. ...7-.
care you the wife of No. 90?' he said
roughly.
81 am the wife Of Count Felix Kaplin-
ski" she said proudly, and never in the
old days had she looked more beautiful.
1--WE have no titles in Siberia. but
have a letter about No. 80. Our gra-
cious car allows No. 90 to dwell I'M
chained in separate cabin. The settle
ment is guarded, you know. Flight is
impossible. Further. No. 90 will be al.
lowed to work in the forest instead Of
the mines"
Doris laughed, her joy was SO great.
She knew too much about the mines.
THANK you," she said. "Doris, the
wife of Count Felix, thanks YOU"
Doris had waited for him all day long,
and she had sold her last ornament to
buy him feast.
Felix was coming homei Homel He
had home now! She clasped her hands
over her heart to stop its beating. Then
she knelt down and prayed. 1t was the
first time she had prayed any words in
all these long years. Before this she had
knelt, and sometimes she had cried.
Once or twice she had laughed, but she
had never spoken to heaven till this
evening when she was waiting for Felix.
Felix was coming home! He would be
within these poor walls free man, free
to love her, to call her by her name. and
she could kneel by him and kiss the
wounds the cruel iron had made. She
would comfort him, and she would be
merry-oh, so merryl He would say
her laugh was his sunshine. She would
make up to him for his long suffering.
Ten years, ten years! How many weeks
was thatI How much he had had to bear
all that timel He had done it for her,
his other love, for Poland. Was not that
enough? Felix was hero. No, the word
was too common to DO given TO such as
he. He had never flinched, never wavered,
never once complained. He had loved
her as truly as only Felix could love. He
would be happy for half the "a hours. He
would be free.
He was getting too weary to smile.
Oh, she would not mind; she would laugh
for them both! The settlement would
call her the merry exile. They had done
so before now, but they did not know
her really. They could not guess all the
joy that was in her heart today.
Then suddenly came the expected
knock-a feeble knock, knock as if n
ghost had tapped with its shadowy fin.
gers. and Doris flew to the door, bidding
herself be quiet for her husbands sake
Felix, Felix, you are herel Come in
See, everything is ready for you, my
darling. 1t is your house. our home
Look, isn't it palace2'
He entered slowly and stood on thu
threshold of the poor little place, full
chiefly of the stove warmth, of the light
from the small oil lamp and of the love
of Doris.
Felix shut the door and slowly walked
toward the armchair he saw placed by
, the fire, His once strong, fine, manly
form was bent as if with old age. AS he
sat down he looked timidly round the
room without saying word. Oh, Dori.
knew, Doris knewi She had made friends
with other exiles, other half released
; captiyes. That was the worst of al
: those long 10 years; they had made Feli1
timid-Felix, who had once had no power
of understanding the word fearl
She knelt down beside him and began
taking off his thick boots. Her finger
were hard now, for the Doris Of old day
, could not have unlaced these strips Q
cowhide, but this Doris could do so, ant
, she was glad of it-glad that she wa
strong as well as gentle, glad that sh
Q knew the meaning of work, of povert,
l and of sorrow. The Doris of 10 coult
r have had no part in the Felix that nov
: sat beside the stove. She took his COLI
feet in her arms and rubbed them warm
. and kissed them where the iron manacle
had once CALLED. then hardened the flesh
Then she ran to fetch slippers and rui
: and laughingly kissed each of his rougl
fingers, from which all manly beaut.
had fled.
And Felix let her do it all and sal,
: nothing, but Doris knew that he coul,
not yet speak. He must have time t.
a think. ..z
VI
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