The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1881-04-07

I was worn out. entered an inn to
sleep a little. I slept all night. In the
morning I woke up. I saw that the day
was getting on; I was furious and called
some one. A. |
"fYou have not seen q soldier pass on
footp"
"iYes. monsieur se nnilitaire, very
late last night. He asked for a glass OF
water
"Ahl Twas o~utstripped In my tufni I
started hurriedly. At three o'clock in
the afternoon Ihad not caught up Pu-
vioux, nor at six o'clock either. Al
night I took my rest while I ate, and
started to walk again. I walked q good
part Of the night, but my strength had
limits. Once more I stopped. I knocked
OF an inn. The door opened, and there
sitting in a chair I saw Puvioux, pale as
death. He make q movement OF dis
pleasure when he saw me that was nat
could we say? We were both tired.
The great thing was to know who should
get up first for the next morning. II
was /.
'The next morning was this morning.
Since this morning I have been walking,
taking a rest now and then, but only q
very short one. We are getting close.
Rethef is the last stage between Anglers
and Mezieres. I know my map OF
France now. The last stagel Great
heavens, if arrived too latel"
'tAnd Pierre Puvioux," asked nv
father, "has he caught you up?"
"No," replied Chevaucheux, al am
ahead. IF I could start now, I should
be saved"
"Start ? In this state ? Impossible |"
OF know-my feet are swollen and
cut-and provided that tomorrow"
"To-morrow you will be rested-you
will be able to walk"
ssDo you think so ?" said the soldier,
with o look ardent as lightning.
"I promise you"
Nv father then advised the soldier to
go 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.
az viii wake you at five o'clock. said
my father.
It was not yet daylight on the follow
ing morning when my father, already
up, looked ont 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 per-
| ceived q soldier who wa walking in the
direction of Mezieres.
Sup already?" said my father.
The soldier stopped. (.
"Well," continued my father, "are
you OFF,"
The soldier looked up and tried TO
make out who was speaking to him. 4.
. You are Jean Chevaucheux, are you
not?" asked my father.
"No," said the soldier ; clam Pierre
Puyioux."
And as If that name of Chevaucheux
had been the prick of a spur, he resumed
his walk more rapidly, and was soon lost
in the ~obscurity. When my father could
no longer see him he could hear the noise
of his shoes on the road leading to
Mezieres.
"Ah |" said my father to himself,
"Chevaucheux must be sharp If he
means to catch mp that man." And he
vent straight to the room where Jean
| had slept. He was already up and look
ing at his feet by the light of a candle.
"Victory |" he cried, when he saw
my father I feel fresh and strong, and
T suffer no more. En- route ,"
"And quickly" replied my father.
"Puvioux has just passed through
Rethel."
"Pierre Puvioux?'
'G have just spoken to him. He
passed under our window going along
as if the devil were after him."
| "Ah, mon Dieu |" exclaimed Chevau-
Il l. IL l.
He repeated once more: "Ahl mon
sack, and cried: "After all, what you
have told me gives me courage. Let me
be Off"
In the room below, my mother, already
up, was filing q wallet with provisions
for Oheyaucheux. But he refused. He
was not hungry. Nevertheless he let
her I'LL him q flask of brandy, and put
ting on a-pair- of nay fathers shoes he
started, blessing my mother and leaning
on my fathers arm to take the first
step.
Three or four years after this we had
heard no news of C~hevaucheux. We
used often to talk of that evening when
the soldier had come into u house
bleeding and weary. What had become
of him? What hadbeen the end OF that
romance of love 50 strangely begun
One day my father had to go to Mezi-
ers on business. He took me with him.
At Mezieres he wished to enter the first
BARRIERS shop that he saw to get shaved.
On the doorstep q little child wal sit
ting with its legs apart, and smiling at
the sun.
Twill you allow me to pass?' asked
,.- .Aha Vn1VhTnn
"No, I won't" replied the child with
q little lisp.
At that moment the door opened, and
a man in his shirt-sleeyes appeared--the
father-and took the child mp in his
arms, saying:
"Pierrel Pierrel do you want to drive
away the customers?
/ recognized the voice, and so did my
father. We looked at the barber. The
barber looked at us. It was Jean Chew
aucheuxi
He laid the child down at once and
held out his hand. His face was all
red and beaming with pleasure.
"What, is it you? Ali and to think
that / have never written to you. All
you don't know. It is I who married
her; / arrived first.
And rushing into the back shop: MAR
g~ueritel Marquerite!" he cried, "Come,
come!"
He was wild with Joy. A young wo-
man appeared, blonde, pretty, blue-eyed,
with a pensiye and gentle air, a little
sad.
"You do not know" said Chevau-
cheux to her. 'It was this gentleman
who took care Of me 80 well at Rethel
the night before I arrived at yourfather's
house, = have often and often
talked to youabout him. $50 This
is the gentleman"
Marguerite fixed her large, calm eyes
upon, saluted us and thanked us softly;
then, as her husband continued to evoke
the past, she looked at him tenderly
rrskh q laal Alal ..--l:o.AaI - -an