The morning call., 1893-08-13

her. He dared not. for her sake.
Life became quite exciting then, for
| Doris had many letters to write: petitions
to send for Felix-petitions which he
had he known. Nicotine had gone
home to her mother, who was
i'll. She had been able to send her
home in grander style than she came; dear
good Nicotine. Marya must look after her.
She was now alone in her cabin; but she
saw Felix every day. and she lived on
hope. 1t was almost sweet.
Poor Doris, she lived on hope many
days. The case of Count Felix, they
said, was one which the clemency OF the
Car was not allowed to touch; but still
Doris wrote and petitioned. Now and
then Marya begged she might send her
some money. but Doris never would
to the cause; besides, she. Doris, was the
wife of Felix and would not live on
charity. Then, money could do so little
for her. She had learnt to make such
nice things, and the settlers were glad to
become her customers. Some of these
settlers were released convicts who yet
might not 60 home. and Doris became the
angel of the place, and as safe in the
dreary plain as il she had been guarded
by regiment.
Then better times dawned, though never
an answer to her petitions.
A new Governor was appointed. and he
heard her story. She no longer disguised
herself now. though she still dressed as
peasant, not being able to afford anything
better. Felix looked so happy when he
saw her sweet face, and the few words
thew exchanged were chiefly about their
looks.
MY hearts darling" she whispered or
SOm etmes wrote, you are pale to-day;
are you i'll ?" and he would smile and say,
when see the color in your face. Doris,
feel we'll again"
Doris was not taken in she knew the
iron had entered into his soul.
Five years had passed in hope,
and then one gay "a, "a great great ,lsy
d aas the ns prisoneTs Of 'S ses'' years. a
standing might see their friends alone
for few hours. DORIS thought she
should 90 mad with joy the night before
the event took place. but her heart was
cruelty torn when she was ushered into
the prisoners cell.
it was! They could not speak. and for
few minutes Doris cried little as Felix
gathered her to his arms and whispered:
Doris, my wife. it was for her--for
Poland. Can yon forgive me?"
Il am satisfied" she said. II would not
have it Otherwise"
The next five years fed much more
She only asked for freedom, not for money
or for lands.
But no answer came.
One day, however, the Governor sent for
her TO his room. and she quickly appeared
before him. She was so young still. only
20. and she looked younger. and oh. so
beautiful! The Governor wondered as he
looked at her. how she could live this life
of hardsip.
Are You the wife of Ninety-nine?" he
said roughly.
II am the wife of Count Felix Kaplin-
ski. she said proudly. aud never III the
old days had she looked more beautiful.
1--WE have no titles in Siberia. but have
letter about Number Ninety-nine. Our
gracious Car allows Number Ninety-nine
to dwell unclaimed in a separate cabin.
The settlement is guarded. you know.
Flight is impossible. Further, Number
Ninety-niue will be allowed TO work in the
forest instead Of in 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"
The Governor bowed; he was con-
Quered-for the moment, at least.
Felix Kaplinski woke up one day to
new life. 1t was evening when the soldiers
struck off his chains near the cabin door.
and one said roughly:
well. laggard, can't you go on? Come,
march: why do you stand stock still like
an idiot?"
They give him rude push rs they
walked off. Felix said nothing. but his
hand trembled as he knocked at the door.
Doris had not known the hour of his
coming. She had waited for him all day
long. ana she had sold her last ornament
to buy him feast. Then she waited.
Felix was coming home! Home; he had
home now! She clasped her hands over
her heart 10 stoD its beating. Then she
knet down and prayed. 1t was the first
time she had prayed any words in all these
ten long veaIs: before this she had knelt,
and sometimes she had cried; once or
twice she had laughed; bnt 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 a free man-free
10 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 merry! 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
that time! 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 be given to such
as he. He had never f1incheO, never
wayered, never once complained. He had
loved her rs truly as only Felix could love.
But now all was changed. He would be
happy for half tine twenty-four hours; he
would be free. Very few mon were really
happy for twelve hours out of every
twenty-four, and none Of the men who had
helped to send Felix could have one
minutes ease Of mind in the whole day.
AS for her. she must take care not to
think Of herself; she must not be selfish.
Felix must come first. He would be very
weary, he wonld want time to sit still and
think. His dear face lately had been so
pale, his dear hands had trembled as she
held them, his smile had been forced in
order to give her pleasure. He was get
ting 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
to-day!
When would he come? 1t was getting
late, and it was cold. She heaped up the
logs in the stove. Marya's last fete gilt
was d0ubly welcome now. Doris only ac-
ceptea this present on her fete day because
it made poor Maya happy. and Felix need
not know.
Then suddenly came the expected
knock. a feeble knock. knock as II
Oh nod x,if In 70 n