The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1883-02-10

steadily she looked alter MS re'real'Is
form. A soft mist clouded her flashing
ewes. and as the distance hid him far
Their from her view she murmured gent
". "Armand, God watch over thee!n
All day long that terrible 30th OF
November, the incessant roar Of cannon
echoed back into the stiffness of the
citv's streets. Paris held her breath in
anguish. Outside the walls the sioken-
iug drama of battle, with all its horrid
Accomplishments of tumult noise and
bloodshed; inside the no less horrible
torture of suspense, as those left be-
hind waited with blanched faces and
bated breath for news from the scene OF
conflict.
Among the foremost in the strife on
that terrible morning rode the boyish
officer, Armand de Rochecpur. 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
Welded TO the passionate attack Of the
French troops, Amazed at their de-
feat, the Germans fell back TO recover
from their bewilderment produced by this
almsst their first reverse, Then, rally
ing from their surprise, reinforced by
fresh troops and protected by their bat
teries, they fell upon the French with
sudden fury. With wild feeling
half fury, half despair, Armand saw the
line give way "Cowards! he NUT
tered below his breath. Then turning
suddenly to his men, he cried: "Cour-
age. VIII you go back to your women
and tell them you fed from Plussian
guns? On! on. Conquer or die Ike
FrenchmenH' Then turning, he rode
forward; but the terrified panic strick-
en- men were deaf to his call, and suf-
fered him to 90 alone. With his right
arm uplifted he rushed toward the
Prussian line.
Ninon has listened all day to the
sound of that terrible cannonading,
waited all night in frightened suspense
for news from the scene Of the battle
for tidings from Armand de Rochecgur
In the morning no word has come.
Dark circles have appeared under the
brown eyes, and their brilliancy is all
faded, gone out in that long night of
watching. Restlessly Ninon PAGES the
long salon. Finally q sudden impulse
seizes her, 81 will 60 and find him."
She finds him at last. As she APP
proaches his bedside she trembles. She
looks upon the white bandages that lie
upon his head and shudders. Then she
speaks to him, and the glad smile that
fits across his lips treasures her, His
single hand goes out to meet hers, and
he tries to speak. A warning gesture
from the nurse attracts Ninon's atten-
ton, and she whispers; do not talk,
Armand; You must get well first.
From an old soldier who watched
over him Ninon learns the history Of
the sortie. As she listens to the story
of how bravely the young soldier bore
himself on that dreadful day, there is a
LOOK of newly found happiness in the
brown eyes. Suddenly they fiji with
tears, and her lips murmur softly, Il
have found him the Prince.
The Sister of Charity comes and
whispers, gently and pityingly, Mad
anne, he will be blind
Armand. my love! God helpyou''
Then she lifts her tear-stained face,
lit up with its wonderful light of love
and pity, and looking at the sympathet-
ic countenance of the poor sister, whis-
pers, "He shall see with my eyes.
The sister looks into the depth Of the
lovely eyes raised to hers, and thinks,
"He is not much to be pitied, the brave
man.
Through long nights of fever and
days Of weary restlessness Ninon
watched by her lovers side. Strength
returns to the crippled body, but the
sorrowful eyes always wear that help
less, vacant expression peculiar to the
blind, and the strong, right arm is rep
resented only by an empty sleeve.
lie is not forbidden to speak now, and
one day as he hears Ninon's footstep by
his bedside, and the soft rustic OF her
dress as she bends over him, he says,
you are always with me Ninon, are you
not? or do ! dream it?"
II am always with You, Armand "
"What brings you here?"
Because ! love you, dear"
Love me?'-but am a cripple and
blind"
Eyes, Armand, your eyes and your
right arm you have given to France.
VIII YOU give The rest to me?'
"Ninon!" and the left arm, the only
one he has, draws her quickly and pas
sionately TO his side. Her soft breath
plays against his cheek, and as his lips
meet hers, she whispers, Armand,
my Prince, | love you.'--F'Om the
French.