Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1883-02-01
NIN0N'S PRINCE.

the besieged city and the surrounding
country. Winter was coming on; food
and fuel becoming scarce; business was
entirely suspended; the b%ouleyards were
tilled with idle, aimless loungers, gaz-
ing with sad and hungry eyes upon
the long files of troops that marched
before them.
Into the quiet and aristocratic pre-
cincts of the Faubourg St. Honore the
grim ghosts of famine and ~bioodshed
had not made their way and the luxu-
rlous entresol of the fashionable hotel
where NinoD, the gay little Baronne de
Valcour, took her abode during the
gray Partisan Winter, was all alight
with sunshine, Ninon was leaning back
in her cushioned fauteuille with the toes
OF her slippers extending toward the
fire, and her head thrown back wear
lily, looking the very personification of
ennui.
"Fiiine. you bother me. Go away"
Fifine departs, but returns again in
the space of two minutes.
MADAME, vicl monsieur"
Madame turns her pretty little head
and takes a comprehensive glance at
tn tall young officer in the uniform of
the national guard.
"The Prussians have not eaten you up
YETI" inquiries Ninon, with a yawn,
that she does not take the smallest
pains to conceal.
Not yet. Would it be a great source
OF relief to madame if such an event
was to take place?'
Rather"
Don't you care for me at all,
Ninon?r
Don't be silly, my child. Tell me
what His Excellency General Trochu is
about, and when you propose to stain
that elegant uniform with Prussian
gore?''
Poor Paris!'' The young officer
sighed and shook his head.
Paris is very mccall but the Prus-
slams: and no one is giving any parties.
That annoys me-
''Ninon, are You as really heartless
as you seem?"
Just about. What do you want me
to do?"
Tel me you love me, Ninon, just a
little"
But I don't"
The boyish lips trembled, and a great
wave of sorrow spread Itself over the
fair, fresh cOuntenance. Then he knelt
down by her side, and n single tear fell
on the little hand that he stopped to
kiss.
''Niuon, Ninon, won't you love
mes:''
You are a stupid boy, and you must
60 away or | shall never eat my break
fast. You are a very nice BOY. Ar
mand, but you look as if you were go-
Ing to cry"
''Ninon!'' the word sounded like Il
cry of pain.
Then he kissed her hand again ard
turned to leave her.
Il shall not ONE again Ninon.''
Madame de Baronne disiigured her
pretty lips with an i%ncredulous little
move, and the door closed upon her
boyish lover.
Paris in a state of seige-a city OF two
million inhabitants surrounded by the
force of a powerful enemy, and all sup
plier cut off! The streets were filled
with . gaunt and hungry crowd of des-
peratc men and despairing women.
The sounds of distress and suffering
began to make themselves heard ever
in the luxurious quarters of the Fau-
bourg St. Honore, where Ninon dc
' NlN3ul WOlC Otib ICI itNS III MdillHU
over the dizziness and dreariness of the
gay capital. The high price demanded
for all the necessaries of life began to
exhaust even the princely De Valcour
revenues. The establishment must be
reduced, and Baroness Ninon awoke
out of her long dream of luxury and
l~aziness to face life for the first time
seriously.
n,o uYGnnr Ns,N,N, T..,l 80
missing. The boyish form of the young
officer, with his untarnished uniform
and unused sword, appeared no more
among her guests. AT frs she smiled
at his absence, then insensibly she be-
gan TO watch for his coming, and rs
the days passed one after another,
Ninon grew anxious.
1t was the evening of the oath Of
November. Ninon was sitting alone
when q quick, hurried tread sounded be-
hind the chair, and the clanking of a
sword startled her.
"Armand!' she exclaimed, as she
turned and encountered the excited
glance of the young officer.
YES, Ninon. At last Paris is aroused.
Tomorrow there will be a grand
sortie. With 100, 900 men we shall
leave Paris, march upon Champaign
on TO Nilliers. Ducrot has sworn to re-
enter Paris only victorious or dead. |
have come to say goodbye. Before to-
morrow night Prussian ball or bayonet
may have quoted forever the heart that
loves you so passionately. Kiss me,
Ninon: and God bless YOU
Ninon lifted the brown hair from the
fair young forehead: a moment her lips
rested there, and she murmured, God
bless you, my Armand!' And then he
pressed her passionately against his
heart. and then left her.
In the morning the troops were in
motion. With stern and set determine
ton they moved forward. looking Meth
er to the right nor left. lest the sorrow
full faces of the women they loved should
unnerve their hearts and unsteady their
hands.
At the head Of his company rode Ar
mand de RochecUur, He did not turn
his head. but the hand that held the
bride rein shook as the heavy tread of
his powerful horse bore him slowly on
beyond the gaze of the bright eyes that
looked down upon him.
Quietly Ninon watched him 90, stead
lily she looked after his r~etreating form.
A soft mist clouded her flashing eyes,
and as the distance hid him further
from her view she murmured gently.
{, Armand. God watch over thev"'
All day long, that terrible 30th of
November, the iucesSaut roar of cannon
echoed back into the stiffness of the
@ity streets. Paris held her breath III
anguish. Outside the walls the sick
ching drama Of battle, with all It's hor-
rid accomplishments Of tumult. noise
md bl%o0dshei; inside the no less hor-
riblc torture OF suspense, as those left
behind waited with blanched faces ana
batcd breath for news from the scene
of conflict.
Among the foremost in the strife on
that terrible morning rode the boyish
officer, Armand dc R%ocheco9ur. The
pure blood of his Norman ancestry
courses wildly through his veins to-day,
France is his life, and he would give his
life for France.
Early in the afternoon Champigny
yielded to the passionate attack OF the
French troops. Amazed at their de-
feat the Germans foil hack IN raao,-ar