The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1898-01-26


this minute. feel sheepish, like a
schoolboy, but it somehow relieves my
overburdened heart. You will excuse
me-"
She was burning to offer some word
of encouragement, to assure him of
her profound respect and friendship,
and of her interest in everything he
had to say, but her tongue seemed
grown fast TO her palate and she could
not utter a syllable.
''It was many years ago that 1 was
torn from my dear native soil and
from a splendid career" he proceeded,
egged on by the very taciturnity OF
his interlocutor. "I was a young fell
low and an officer n the army then,
with most promising future before
me. 1t was during the Polish insur.
rection of the early sixties. My regi.
ment was stationed at the Government
city of N"
The panna gave a start, and volley
of questions trembled on the tip of her
tongue, but she somehow could not
bring herself to interrupt him.
"I had been recently graduated
from the military school, and that was
my first commission, he went on. 81
had many friends in the regiment,
and among them a young Polish Off
Ger named Staukevitch.
Parma Roushetzka remained petri-
fed After n while she made out to
inquire: "Staukevitch, did you say?"
"Why, have you heard of him or
some of his family?" Smirnoff asked,
eagerly.
"No, am simply interested in
what you are relating. Proceed
please"
"Well, he was the most delightful
fellow in the whole lot of us, but he
did not know how to take care of him
self, and paid his life for it, poor boy.
His heart was with the insurgents,
and 1 knew it and begged him to be
guarded, but he was too much of
patriot to allow the instinct of self.
preservation to get the better of his
revolutionary sympathies. One day
when the Cossacks had looted the
house Of Polish nobleman and taken
the owner and his family prisoners,
my friend gave loud utterances to his
overbrimming feelings in the Officers
Club, cursing the Government and
vowing vengeance.
"You must have heard how strict
things were in those days. The city
of N was in state of siege, mar.
tial law prevailed, and the most peace
full citizens were afraid of their own
shadows. Well, poor dear Staukevitch
was court -martialled and sentenced to
be shot within twenty-four hours by a
line of soldiers from the very company
of which he had been in command.
And who was to take charge of the
shooting and utter the fatal word to
the soldiers but 1, his best friend, who
was ready to die for him. "
Smirnoff said it with a grim sort of
composure, and then broke off abruptly
and fell into a muse.
"Well?" the widow demanded, in a
strange voice, which he mistook for a
mere mark of interest in a thrilling
story.
"Well," he resumed, ''I did not, of
course, utter the terrible word, but at
the very moment l was to do so fell
on the ground in feigned swoon. Ny
place was instantly taken by another
officer and / was since then branded
as a coward, and had no choice but to
resign my commission and to become
the rolling stone that have been ever
since"
Ha Of q
subsequent experiences in foreign
countries, but the widow did not hear
him. All at once she interrupted
him.
Don't tell me about that, pray.
Better tell me more about that friend
of fyours-Staukevitc and, succumb-
ing to an overflow of emotions, she
burst out, sobbingly: 81 know you.
L have your photograph, Staukevitch
was my father!'
''Ma-ma-marusial Is that you?"
the old man shrieked, jumping to his
feet and seizing her by both hands.
"Dear little Marusia! Why, when
you were morsel of thing L used to
play with you"
81 know" she reioined, "and now
that you say 1t L can recognize your
face by the faded old portrait l have
in my album. You were photographed
together with my unhappy papa.
Mamma left me the picture. 1 did
not remember your name, but / heard
the story from mother when / was a
child, and since then 1 have held the
portrait dear for your sake as well as
papa's. OF course it never occurred
to me that it was you, but now the
identity of it is as clear as day to me.
She invited him TO her lodgings,
where she introduced him to her land
lady as the best friend of her dead
father. They had a long and hearty
talk over the portrait and about the
persons and things it brought to the
old mans mind. And on the follow
ing evening, when he came to the
French restaurant for his supper, he
found there letter which read as fol-
lows:
"Dear Aleksey Alexseevitch-It was
not yourself, but an utter stranger,
that refused the other day. / have
loved you my whole life without know.
ing you. The handsome officer who
ruined himself for my poor father has
always been my ideal of husband,
and, will you believe it, 1 never gave
up a vague sort of hope that he would
| Ia nina XouV Ioxi,,o