Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1861-06-05

great, for, ever and anon, the shot and shell
from the English, who were trying to destroy
the Russian fleet, struck the water around
him ; and heavily dressed and encumbered as
he was, the distance Of some eight hundred
yards seemed weary indeed. Still he went
| manfully on, each stroke more feeble, until
he reached the goal. Emerging from the wa
ter at an insignificant pier, the rough soldier
| placed his young charge gently on the ground,
then shaking the water from his hair, he made
| a vey low bow and said ssMademoiselle, rous
etes saUes.'
s'Tel me your name and address, my pre-
server,'' asked she, with tears streaming down
| her face.
'.Phillippe Charente of the 4th regiment"
answered he ssmy home is in the Rue des
| Pipotis, Boulogne. But | must not stay"
he added pointing to group of Russians who
were approaching; so, with another low bow
! he sprung into the water, and struck boldly
back for the southern side of the harbor.
| That day at noon the .sGrim Sergeant
| stalked into the camp, looking taller, darker
| more grim and taciturn than ever. His clothes
| and hair still bore marks of his watery adven-
| ture; but when his comrades joked, and wan
| ted to hear what he had done with the young
! captive, he looked so awfuly fierce, and
| smiled diabolically, that ere nightfall it
| was given out and currently believed in the
regiment, that Charente had Outdone himself
by some process of slow drowning, whereby
ed, and never word said he.
Four years passed, and the graves which
marked that scene of struggle and bloodshed
were veled by the kindly grass; the invaders
bad left the Crimea, the Russians again occu-
pied Sebastopol, and the storm OF war dis
persed on the shore of the EuXine, to gather
again, first on the plains of India, and then
upon the sunny land of Italy. Again the
French army went forth to battle and to vic
tory. Again did our friend, the ssGrim Ser
geant,' display his prowess in the foremost
ranks, and earned on the day of Magenta, the
much priced decoration of the cross OF the
Legion of Honor. But the good fortune which
bore Charente scatheless through the storm
ing of the Malak off and the field of Magenta,
forsook him in the bloody battle of Solferino.
He had rushed into the midst of the enemy
and seized some Austrian colors, when the foe
closed around him, and wounded, and bleed
ing, he was taken prisoner. This would have
been slight misfortune, for his captivity was
ofshort duration, and his wounds soon healed
but his right hand had lost the thumb and
two fingers, which quite incapacitated him for
military purposes, SO that when he returned !
to his native country he was at once discharg-
ed, and retired with a small pension, to Bou-
logne. lie soon after married, and did not
preserve, in private life, the character for fe-
rocity which he so much priced, for his home
was one of the happiest in the world One
evening, about three months after his return, |
he startled by the appearance of gen
darme, who came to summon him before the
mayor. On entering his presence, tn t officer
inquired abruptly s.Are you Philippe Cha
rente, late of the 4th regiment ?''
81 am that person, monsieur
ssYour presence is required in Paris you
must start tonight; Russian family of dis
tinction desire to see you-you will find them
at the Hotel, Rue de Riveli.''
'sAas monsieur, L am poor, [ have no
st
nor means to take me to Paris
ssAll will be provided for you. have re-
ceived two hundred frances to enable you to
obey the summons at once" and the mayor
handed him ten gold pieces
The worthy sergeant bowed, and LETT the
house in state of dire perplexity. tie went
to "a clothier's and fitted himself with a hol-
day suit, then returning home he bewildered
his wife with the news, packed his knapsack,
and left that night for Paris.
He puzzled himself, during his long jour
ney, in trying to make ont what could be the
meaning Of the strange summons to the me-
tropodis and what Russian family of dis
tnction could want with poor soldier like
himself. The many acts of kindness of his
life were always done in underhand sort of
way-scarcely confessed to himself ard his
adventure at Sebastopoi had long faded from
his memory. 1t was in vain that he twirled
his moustache, and stared diligently at the
his mind, and he reached Paris still enveloped
in the mists of unSolved mystery.
Leaving the station, he shouldered his KNAPP
sack, and carrying in his hand the card where |
on the Mayor of Boulogne had written the ad-
dress of the Russian nobeman, be plodded
steadily on to the Rue de Rivoli. Ie walk ID
into the grand entrance of the hotel with
much more faltering step than he would have
shown on marching up to an enemy, and pre-
serted his card to the smart carson who met
him. He was evidently expected guest
for, on glancing at the card the man said
s'PhilIippe Charente ~
ssThe same, MONSIEUR" answered the SER
geant.
ssFollow me, my brave fellow,'' said the
kindly waiter. ssHis excelency is at break
fast but he told me to usher you into his pres
ence directly as you arrived.''
Charente, more perplexed than ever, follow =,
ed the man up the great staircase and enter |
ed large suite of rooms. They passed |
through magnificent saloon, in which were
several servants in rich liyeries; then opening
a door to the right, the garcon said, in a loud
voice ssPhillppe Charente is arrived, your
bighness.''
Before Philippe had time to observe any
thing in the room which he entered, an excla-
nation of delight rang in his ears, his hands
we're clasped by small, white, jew e!ad fingers,
face of great beauty was looking up 10 him,
and deeply moved voice said: 'sMy brave
preserver!''
A tall, military looking man, whose breast
was covered with orders, now advanced to the
bewidered soldier, and shook him warmly by
the hand.
ssGod bless you my fine feiiow!'' said he
ssbat for your generous kindness | should
have been childess."
The good sergeant, perplexed beyond de-
gree, looking from one to the other with such
a mystifed expression of countenance, that