The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1879-09-11

"1t is useless to question this, salt
the condemned in firm voice. 81 con
fess my crime
ssYou, Valore," exclaimed the Colonel
'you always were brave soldier. Have
you anything to say3"
"Nothing, except that I find all very
Just. But / would do the same thing
tomorrow all over again.
"Will you let us know why you did
it, Pierre 2" continued the officer kindly.
eyes, if any one cares to hear. My
mother died five years ago. Al her bed
side swore to live an honest man, and
to avoid evil companions. To remind
me of my pledge, she made me promise
to plant violet over her grave, and
every year l was to pluck the first bud
that blossomed among the grass. -Four
times / had sought the little church
yard, and gathered the tender flowers
that grew above her sainted bones. AT
the time of my last visit the regiment
was leaving France. I asked for leave
of absence, and was refused. There
was but one way left, for l must obtain
the violets at any COST deserted.
When I had found the flower, and press
ed it to my lips, the enormity of my
crime arose with all its shame before me.
| had vowed never to forsake my duty,
and / felt that my oath was broken.
There remained but one thing to do
rejoin my regiment and deliver myself to
Justice. | came here and surrendered.
The rest is known. 1 have been con-
demned justly, and L am ready to meet
my doom. 1t is heavy price-life for
a single flower y
"Here is the chaplain, whispered one
of the men, "shall he approach %
"By all means" said Valors; 81 have
made my peace with God, sir, he added
to the clergyman, "and l am prepared
to die in charity toward all men. l have
nothing more to say except farewell. and
bless you, every one.
Then, bowing to the chaplain, he walk
Ell to the scaffold with as firm step as
if he had been marching past the Gener-
al in ordinary times, at review. The
men turned sick in the ranks, the drum
mers hands trembled as they beat the
terrible tattoo, and the file of soldiers
for the execution hung their heads for
shame, as though they were murderers,
instead of promoters of justice and dist
pline.
Farewell, friends, all y shouted Va
lore, taking his position, and the Adju-
tant gave the word that all was ready.
But at that moment there was cry
q low murmured cheer among the men
as they separated to let horseman ad-
vance to the center of the column. He
looked neither to the right nor left, but
made straight for the platform, and dis
mounted within a few yards of the con-
demned man. As he stepped gracefully
from his horse, and stood beside the de-
serter, both officers and men held their
breath, watching with anxiety the move
ments of the master they had learned to
respect so highly and love so well.
1t was Bonaparte, hero of the Pyra-
mids, who appeared before them.
Without q word the Little Corporal
walked up the platform and placed him
self directly in front of the disgraced
man,
"Pierre Valore," he said, in his clear,
pure voice, ''your crime has been known
to me only short time. From yonder
clump of trees l have just heard the
whole story. If the life you SO freely
offer to the memory of your mother is a
burden to you, give it to me. You have
still another mother, kinder, better than
the one you have lost, and who needs the
help of her noble sons. Give me your
hand; you are free man; if you have a
life to spare, keep it for her. For France
is your mother"
Pierre Valore fell upon his knees, and
seizing the delicate, wax-like hand, car.
ried it reverentially to his trembling lips.
"My life is yours, he said between his
trembling lips. II wish l had hun,
dred lives to give as willingly
The men were too excite to cheer, and
maybe it was this mute admiration which
honored the commandant most. He
waived his hand graciously, and, mount
ing his horse again, rode away.
Two days later they were fighting
The Little Corporal" was everywhere
in the thickost of the fray. Just where
the shot flew fastest, where the furious
cannon ragged fiercest, the three cornered
hat was visible, always ahead, like 6
charmed being, leading them onward tc
glory, to triumph and destruction. The
clarion voice shouted the order, Charge
which was reechoed by every captain
along the line, and the vast sea of men,
sweeping down like huge tidal wave
plunged headlong into the redoubt be
fore them. The contest WAS man to MAJ
sabre to sabre.
He certainly must have been invulner
able, so many times to escape what seem
ed inevitable death. For the twentieth
time he was surrounded by band O
yelling Arabs, who defended with fend
ish ayidity each foot of ground that Wa
taken from them.
Meanwhile few yards distant fought
Pierre Yalore. His trus.y sword flashed
here and there among the howiing crowd
dealing death in all directions. Their,
| was no time for words nor smiles
! but in his mind he set down declara
ton, should they meet at later day
Again and again they were hemmed in
! with a hundred infr1riatei ssyacas q