The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1875-05-05

of her alone assuring me that she knew ALL
"Ah well, my father?" she said in low
tone, at the door.
"Ah WELL" answered, endeavoring to- he
cheerful, 81 must go away; but you-you
can remain; they give you permission to re-
main"
At the same time I heard grandmother
groaning in her bed up stairs. Katel, in the
morning as soon as l had gone away, went
up quickly to tell the sad news to my daugh-
ter, and grandmother had heard it all.
The news had spread through the hamlet
The people listened, and as the blow had
come told them all, and how the Prusslan
officer had received me. The crowd OF neigh
| bors listened without saying word. All had
| fear of sharing the same lot.
Grandmother having recognized my voice,
called "Frederic! Frederick Merely to hear
her call me started the perspiration on my
face. Invent up, answering.
"Here 1 am, grandmother, here / am.
| WHY do you moan so much? 1t will not be
long. I shall come back. Now they are
mistrustful of me; they are wrong, grand
mother, but they are the strongest"
"Ahp' she cried, ''you are going away,
Frederic. You are going away like poor Jean.
know very well that he went away to the
| war. 1 know all. I shall never see you
again, neither you nor himp'
''Why not, grandmother, why not? In
| few weeks we shall have permission to come
back. And Jean also will return after the
war;"
81 shall never see you again." she cried,
| and her sobs redoubled.
The people, curious, and even cruel in
| their curiosity, had come up one after another.
| Our little rooms were full. They did not
breathe, and had taken off their wooden
shoes at the foot of the stairs. They wished
TO hear and see everything; but seeing this
poor old woman in the shadow of the great
| gray curtains, who sobbed, stretching out
her arms to me, they almost all went down
and hurried home. Starck. Father Ykel,
and his daughter alone remained.
Grandmother Anne" said Father Ykel.
edo not have any such thoughts. Frederic is
right; you must be reasonable" Peace
once made everything will be restored. You
are almost eighty-three and l am near seven
ty. What of that hope to see Jean come
| come back, Father Frederic and all the rest
| who have gone away"
| "Ahr' she said, 81 have suffered too
much. This is the endv' and until evening
| she moaned necessarily.
Marie Rose, always full of courage, opened
| the drawers and prepared my bundle, for L
| had no time to lose, must be on the road.
| She took out my best clothes and shirts and
| asked me in low tone, for grandmother was
still crying, "you will take this, Father? And
that?" answered, ''Do as you think best
my child. 1 have no heart for anything.
Only put my uniform into my bundle. That
is the principal thing"
Ykel, knowing that the moments were
precious, told us not to disturb ourselves
about supper, that we should take supper
with him, and we accepted.
This night, George, at table we did not
say much. Katel up stairs watched grand
mother. Night came. My bundle was
ready and we went to bed early, slept very
little, you can believe. The means of grand
mother and then my thoughts, the uncer-
tainty as to where I should go, the little
silver that 1 could take for my journey, for 1
must leave enough to take care of those at
home, all kept me awake in spite OF the
grief and fatigue which overpowered me.
And during this long night asking myself
where should 60, what to do, what road to
take, to whom to apply in order TO earn my
bread-resolving these thoughts over and
over again the recollection came to me OF
my old guard-general, NJ. D'Arence, one of
the best men that had ever known, who
was always kind to me and ever favored me
when l served under him as simple guard
many years before. l remembered that 1t
was said he had retired to Saint Die, and
hoped if 1 had the good fortune to find him
alive that he would be glad to receive me
and assist me little in my misfortune.
This idea came to me n the morning It
seemed promising and fell asleep for an
hour or two. But before day I was up.
| The dreadful moment drew near, and L was
scarcely out of bed when grandmother called
me- Marie Rose was already up. She had
prepared our breakfast, and Ykel sent Up
bottle of wine. Having dressed myself l
went into the grandmother's room, trying to
keep up brave heart but knowing well that
| l should never see her again. She seemed
more calm, and as 1 sat down by her she
clasped her two arms around me saying,
''My son-for you have been my son and
good son to me-my son Frederic, bless
you! I wish you all the happiness that you
deser vel Oh! the wishes and blessings OF
the poor are not worth much! Without
them, dear frederic, you would not be so
| unfortunate!'
She cried and 1 could not restrain my
tears. Marie Rose, leaning against the bed,
sobbed also, and as grandmother still held
me close said to her
'sListen grandmother. Your blessing and
your kind words do me as much good as if
you were able to make me the richest man
in the world 1t is a great consolation to
think that shall see you again."
"Perhaps we shall see each other again."
she replied, "but here below, on this earth
say adeu. Adieu, Frederic, adieu!" She
drew me close to her, kissed me with tremb-
ling lips, and turning her head she held my
hand for moment and beginning again to
sob whispered "adieu."
Invent out completely unnamed. In the
next room drank glass of wine and put
crust of bread into my pocket. Making
motion to Marie Rose we went quietly down
stairs so that grandmother should not hear
our last parting. In the room below we
found Father Ykel and some friends who
had assisted us in moving. They said good
bye. Then in the alley embraced my child,
and in this embrace wished her all that a
man can wish for the being he loves more
than his own life, and that he esteems, as
we esteem virtue, goodness, courage. Then
with my bundle on the end of my staff, 1