The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1875-04-28

You do not think of Marie Rose! You are
affianced. She is your wife before God!'
.Marie Rose consents also. We have need
only of your consent. Say yes, and all will
| be well. The last time was here when you
were down stairs smoking your pipe, told
Marie Rose plainly how it was, that guard
forester out of place, and an old soldier as 1,
ought to be at the front. She understood
| and consented"
| When he told me that, George. it was too
much, and l cried at is not possible" l
opened the window and called, ''Marie Rose
Marie Rose-Come up. Jean is here"
She was spreading out the linen and at once
left her work and came up.
marie Rose" said I, sis it true that you
| consent that Jean Merlin shall go TO Orleans
near Paris to join the army? Is it true?
Speak without fear"
Pale, but with sparkling eyes, she answered
eyes; it is his duty. He must 60. We will
not become Prussians, and Others ought not
to fight our battles alone. They must have
men. He must defend his countryp' Twas
overcome, but thought to myself 'What
brave child have there! No, did not know
her. She is the child of the ancient Bruats
See, the dead are alive again, and speak
through the lips Of children! They wish that
we should defend the ground of the old GEM
| everywhere their bones repose." rose up
with outstretched arms. ''Let us embrace
each other let us embrace each other! You
are right Yes, it is the duty of all French
men to go to the war. All! if was only ten
years younger, would 60 with you Jean.
We would be brothers in arms"
Jean Merlin passed the day with US. Marie
Rose cooked as good dinner as was possible
in our position. She put on her pretty cap.
blue silk cape, in order to gladden. the eyes OF
the one she loved. 1t seems to me yet that
see her sitting near grandmother in front of
her lover, smiling as if it were gala day. 1t
seems to me that hear Jean telling the
news from Orleans, and the glorious pros
| poets of the war. After dinner, while grand
mother dreamed in her chair, 1 see the chill
dren sitting side by side near the little win
dow, watching each other with clasped hands
and talking now gay, now sad, as it happens
to lovers. So passed all the afternoon. Then
at supper as the time drew near when. he
must 60 terrible oppression overcame me;
strange, unknown fears troubled me.
'sGo to bed, grandmother" said I, "night
has Gomez But she did not hear me, being
little deaf She murmured her litanies. and
we watched each other, exchanging our
thoughts by signs. At last the poor old lady
| rose up, her two hands resting on the arm of
her chair, rnurmuring.
/ "Good night, my children. Come Jean,
that I may kiss you Be watchtul OF the
Prussians. They are traitors. Do not run
any risk, and God bless you,"
They kissed each other. Jean seemed
sad, and the door being closed, as the church
bells rang and the little windows became OBJ
scure, he said:
s'Marie Rose, the time has come; the
moon is rising; it Gghtens already the path
by which l go to gain the Donou."
They embraced each other long time in
profound silence, for down stairs people were
still talking, and strangers might spy US; we
must be prudent. At last they parted. Jean
took his stick. Marie Rose, pale but firm,
said "Adieu, Jeanr' and he, without reply
ing, went suddenly out, breathing as if some
thing choked him. I followed him. We
went down the stairs; at the door, where the
moon, covered with clouds, threw a pale ray,
we embraced also, and I said:
sHave you need Of anything?' for had
put fifty francs into my pocket
"No," he said, 81 have all I need" We
held each other by the hand without power
to let go, we looked into each others very
soul, and as felt my cheeks tremble he said
in a voice quivering, but full OF courage,
"Good bye father. We are menp Then he
went off. I watched him pass into the black
night, blessing him in my heart. 1t seemed
to me as if saw him turn at the angle of
the rocks and wave his cap, but am not
sure.
When went back Marie Rose sat upon
chair near the open window, crying, her
| face hid in her hands. The poor child had
kept up courage until the last moment; but
then her tears came. did not say anything,
but leaving the little lamp on the table, went
into my own room. These things passed in
November, 1870. We must have still greater
sorrow.