In my day, on Sakhalin, exiled penal laborers were generally often disappointed; but in the year of my sea travels, they experienced still another disappointment. With the arrival of the Heir Tsarevich (now the ruling Sovereign) to Vladivostok, exiles were gifted with the new manifesto of 1891. Its highlights were immediately telegraphed to Sakhalin. This unforeseen news summoned forth a burst of delight there. Typically, exiles in katorga are always waiting for a manifesto, and all their calculations for being freed are directly associated with a monarchical reprieve.

“You’ll see, this year there's gonna be a big manifesto. I got five years’ katorga left, just a third of my sentence; knock it off, ‘n’ I’m free! You’ll see, there’ll be a manifesto soon!”

So dreamt the penal laborer. Why soon, he didn't know. To console himself, another would argue against his colleague's dream. But if, in fact, some sort of development was being foreseen, then those who awaited and discussed the given manifesto (of a coronation, the birth of the heir to the throne, etc.) calculated over it to no end. I’d noticed all the joy they anticipated over an earlier manifesto, though when it was announced, everyone accepted the new reprieve with relative calm. Yet the 1891 manifesto was announced completely unexpectedly, and so the people's rejoicing was unusually enthusiastic. Sakhalin's soothsayers recalled all the things from their dreams. The penal laborers’ joy grew when, on 12 May, recited to them was the telegraphed news that the manifesto was reducing labor terms by two-thirds. Usually, manifestos forgave one-third of the years sentenced to be served in katorga, but suddenly, it was two-thirds!

“God bless our Heir,” all katorga sincerely prayed.

Everyone also congratulated me on the end of my katorga.

“You waited, and at last, you’re in the exile-settler estate,” my friends told me. “Now you can sooner petition His Highness to definitively return all your rights to you and leave with God for Russia! It’ll happen— you’ve been patient enough!”

Next day, the doctor hurried to visit and solemnly congratulated me.

But there was a misunderstanding.