Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1879-07-29

at . this morning they sailed with the
greatest haste and in the completest 81
lence"
"Gone!" said the sentry, ''and they
have abandoned me! | shall be set down
as deserter! Damn that corpOral-he
not only left me on watch six hours but
he has ruined my reputation-dishonored
me- Now | understand Capucin's visit;
he came to warn me that they were go
inc. and |. dull fool that was, could not
understand him. Good dog, and kicked
him-the first time one of our men ever
struck him. Oh, Capucin, Capucin, why
didn't YOU think of tearing the corporars
coat
And the sentinel burst into tears of re-
gret and despair.
Come. come, my son, said the peas
ant. kindly; "don't give way so. Crying
won't mend matters. Stay here; YOU
can't do anything else. If the French
return and take you | will explain every
thing"
but YOU do not understand what mar
tial law is-if they return there will be
no pity shown me.
"Tut-tut! That is absurd. You can
not be punished for a crime you never
committed. If anybody is to be blamed
it is your superiors who forgot everything
about YOU"
Firmin Bonard made no answer, but
swept with despairingly hopeful eye the
distant horizon. Alas, there was not the
white tieck of single sail to be seen,
and again he gave way to his grief
Take my advice" said the old man.
land bear up with a good heart. You
too are from rural parts, unless | am
greatly mistaken. and can find in me a
true friend if YOU are only willing to let
me bcfriend YOU"
but you know nothing about me
whether am fit
al am an old man and long accustomed
10 read the faces of my fellows, said the
peasant, smiling. Before YOU took up
the muskct YOU have held the plow. !
need laborer, vigorous and intelligent
like yourself. Come with me and | will
feed, lodge and clothe YOU, and see that
YOU have something in your pocket every
Saturday night for Sunday frolic.
Il accept your offer thankfully, said
Firmin Bonard, land YOU shall see that
a French soldier is not less faithful to the
plow by which he gains livelihood than
he was to the flag of his distant country
As the farm of Peter BaXen, the peas
ant with whom Firmin Bonard had fallen
in. was one of the largest in the island,
the soldier returned to his old calling, did
not lack for opportunities to show his
skill and industry, and speedily convinced
the rich peasant of his value.
MY friend" he said to Firmin one
day. Il love YOU as l would my own son.
IF it were not, replied Frmin,
that my old father in France waits and
hopes anxiously for my return, should
never care to leave Rugen.
You will see him once more. said
the farmer: land when you 90 to France
to see him why should YOU not bring him
back to Rugen with you: That, how
ever we can talk over at some future time.
Today | wish to speak to YOU concerning
my daughter
A flush covered the young French
mans face, as the peasants keen eye
saw. IF am not wrong he contin-
ucd. she and YOU are very friendly: ::
Firmin stammered something unintel-
hgible.
"In fact" the old man went on, 1.-THE
neighbors say you are in love with her.
What" Who says 50: swear to
YOU, sir, that | have never addressed to
your daughter one word which would
make her aware
Precisely, and that is why she has de
sired me to ask you. You shall marry
her. l have already promised her that
it would be so, and she hugged me so for
quarter of an hour by the clock that |
really thought she would strangle me.
Firmin hugged him, too, and a fort
night later became the husband OF the
old man 5 only child, the rich, pretty, and
amiable Amelia.
-Four years passed away-tour years
of toll and love. Firmin Bonard thought
often of France, but came to forget his
technical desertion. The prattling of
his two children, the embraces of his
wife. were q present that answered for
the future: small wonder that he forgot
the past.
So matters went on until one morn
ing the signal was made that several
vessels were in sight; then as they drew
nearer the word went round the island: /:
ut is the French They are going to
land"
The words came to Firmin Bonard' 5
ears like alarm guns, and he felt that ne
was lost man. A sudden thought
came to him, however, and reassured
him somewhat; dashing to his dwelling,
he put on his old uniform and shake and
ran to the spot where, five years before,
he had been so strangely abandoned.
Soon barges filled with soldiers were
seen to put off from the ships that had
rounded to and dropped anchor. In the
bow of one was the big white poodle
that barked joyously on seeing the solid
ground once more.
Firmin Bonard saw the dog, and fam
cied that he recognized in him old Capu-
Gin. and his ewes filed with tears.