The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1881-06-13
am not only going to see her again, but to


hour, and we were placed in the same regi
ment. At first / was vexed. should have
liked to have known that he was far away.
AS you may imagine, could not love him
much. But 1 reflected afterwards that /
could at least talk about her if Puvioux
was with me. That consoled me. Well,
said to myself, am in fo- seven years of it,
After all, one gets over it.
In the regiment became fast friend of
Pierre PuvouX. He proved to be an excel
lent good fellow, and at night, in order to
kill time, we used often to talk of Mezieres,
of Father Servan, and of Marguerite. We
used to write to Mezieres often, but each
told the other the contents of his letters. 1t
was a struggle, it is true, but it was loyal.
When Marguerite or old Servan replied, the
letter was for both of us. An equal dose of
hope was given 20 each of us, and so we
went on hoping.
One day the colonel took it into his head
to appoint me corporal. I was vexed and
proud at the same time. You see was no
longer the equal of Puvioux. My stripes
gave me the right to command him, and in
the eyes of our Ardennais that was no small
advantage. But did not glory in my rank;
on the contrary it made me ill at ease. I
did not dare to talk to Puvioux any more.
Then l reflected that there were more
ways than one of getting rid of my
new rank. neglected my duty and was
forthwith degraded. But who should be
made corporal in my stead but Puvioux.
But Puvioux was not to be outdone; at the
end of week he resigned. After that there
was no danger of any propositions being
made to us to make any change in our uni
form. We were condemned to remain COM
mon soldiers.
so much the better said Puvioux.
what luckp said I.
Wren we had served seven years-for
do not mean to tell you our history day by
day. said to Puvioux:
well, now is the time to start, eh?'
Yes he replied, I'VE are expected
You know said, the game will not be
finally won until both of us arrive at
Mezieres, and until the loser has declared
that the combat has been loyal
Agreed said Puvioux.
And SO one morning, with good shoes on
our feet, and stick in hand, we set out for
Mezieres from Anglers, where we were in
pany, not saying much, thinking a good
deal and walking above everything. The
weather was terribly hot and dusty. Half
way one Of our marches 1 sat down on the
roadside overwhelmed with fatigue.
Are you going to stay therep said Pu-
vioux.
Yes
'Adieup he said, continuing his march.
'Au revoirp
watched him as he went on with firm
step, as if he had only just started. When
I saw him disappear at the bend Of the road,
and when was once alone, as it were aban-
doned, felt great despair. made an
effort. l rose and began to walk again.
That little halt had done me good. I
walked, walked and walked until / had
caught up to Puvioux and passed him.
At night, too, I was well ahead, but was
worn out. entered an inn to sleep little.
l slept all night. In the morning woke
up. saw that day was getting on; I was
furious and called some one.
You have MOI seen soldier pass on
foot?'
Yes, monsieur la militaire, very late last
night. He asked for drink of water
All! was outstripped in my turn! I start
ed hurriedly. Ats O'Clock in the afternoon
had not caught up to Puvioux, nor at 6
O'Clock either. At night I took my rest
while ate, and started to walk again. 1
walked good part of the night, but my
strength had limits. Once more stopped.
knocked at an inn. The door opened, and
there sat Puvioux, pale as death. He made
a Eovement of displeasure when he saw me
that was natural. We did not talk much.
What could we say? We were both TIRED.
The great thing was to know who should get
up first the next morning. It was /.
The next morning was this morning.
Since this morning have been walking,
taking rest now and then, but only a very
short one. We are getting close. Rethel is
the last stage between Anglers and Mez-
ieres know my map of France now. The
last stage! Good heavens, if I arrived too
latew "And Pierre Puvioux," asked my
father s'has he, caught you up?"
seNO - rpn1ipd ChavanchouY ST am ahead
If could start now should be saved"
"Start? In this state! Impossible!
81 know-my feet are swollen and cut
and provided that Tomorrow
be able to walk
'Do you think sop said the soldier, with
look ardent as lightning.
81 promise you"
My father then advised the soldier tc 60
to bed. Chevaucheux did not refuse. The
bed was ready. He shook hands with us
and went up to his room. 1t was ten
o'clock'
81 will wake you at five O'clock" said my
father,
1t was not yet daylight on the following
morning when my father, already up, looked
out of the window to see how the weather
was. While he was at the window he heard
some heavy footsteps on the road below,
and in the obscure twilight that precedes
daybreak he perceived soldier who was
walking in the direction of Mezieres.
Cup already?" said my father.
The soldier stopped
''Well?' continued my father, "are you
The soldier looked up and tried to make
out who was speaking to him.
"You are Jean Chevaucheux, are you
not?" asked my father.
SNo cold tho co1dior am Piorro Pm.
vioux.'
And as if that name of Chevaucheux had
been the prick of spur, he resumed his
walk more RAPIDLY and was soon lost in the
obscurity. When my father could no lon
ger see him he could hear the noise of his
shoes on the road leading to Mezieres.
"AhP said my father to himself, "Che-
vaucheux must be sharp if he means to
catch up with that man." And he went
straight to the room where Jean had slept.
He was already up and looking at his feet
by the light of a candle.
''Victoryv' he cried when he saw my
father; 81 feel fresh and strong and suffer
no more. En- routep'
"And quickly" replied my father. 'Pu-
vioux has just passed through Rethel.
''Pierre Puviouxr'
81 have just spoken to him. He passed
under our window, going as if the devil
were after him."
"Ah! mon Dieup' exclaimed Chevau-
cheux, as if he had been struck down. He
repeated once more: 'Ah! mon Dieuw
Then he buckled on his knapsack and cried:
"After all, what you haye told me gives me
courage. Let me be off,"
l. In the room below my mother, already
up, was filling wallet with provisions for
Chevaucheux. But he refused. He was
not hungry. Nevertheless, he let her fill
him flask of brandy, and putting on my
fathers shoes he started, blessing my moth
er and leaning on my fathers arm to take
the first step.
Three Or four years after this we had
heard no news of Chevaucheux. We used
often to talk of that evening when the SOL
der had come into our house bleeding and
weary. What had become of him? What
had been the end of that romance of love so
strangely begun?