The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1884-03-14
THE DESERTER.

circumstance happened there Whlcn is worth
relating. A friend named Collins was with
me at dinner one afternoon. 1t was IN the
summer of 1912, and toward the latter part
of August AS we arose from the board our
host asked us if we were going up to the bar
racks. We informed him that we had made
no arrangements of that kind, and asked him
if there was to be any unusual parade.
''Why, yes" he answered, with peculiar
French shrug of the shoulders and twist of
the features ''there is to be something that
we have not had before for more than a year.
A deserter is to be shot"
Collins was "up and dressed in twink
ling for going; but had but little inclina-
ton that way. Only about a month before L
had seen three Bedouin Arabs decapitated at
Tripoli for the crime of treason, and had no
desire to see any more blood shed after such
fashion. and SO l told mine host. whom we
always called Old Joe-and that was the only
name I ever knew him to possess.
81 suppose, now, you would rather see
that deserter escape than not Ell % said Joe,
looking me sharply in the face.
:: Ii his only crime is desertion, of course
l should" said I.
''Well, that is his only crime; and more
still, his mother used to live over toward
Atalaya on the southern coast, and was sick.
Philip wished to see her, and they would not
let him GO so he made his escape. This he
has done three times, and now they have
tried him, and condemned him to be shot.
The last time they took him they found him
by his mothers bed. He had thrown off his
military garb and assumed the dress of a
common peasant.
Its rather hard to shoot a man for such a
thing, said l.
cay" returned Joe, with the old shrug,
9 l know it; but suppose soldiers could be
their own judges of when they might leave,
why, we shouldn't have soldier in a month,
you see they must stick up to the rules, and
so poor Philip Cervera must be shot. But [
suppose you would like to have him escape"
| assured the host that | should. He gazed
very carefully about the room, and then step
ping close to me he said in tone almost re-
duced to a whisper
''Then come up to the parade ground.
Just come up and see what you can see.
Come"
knew from the mans manner that some
thing out of the ordinary course of such
events was going to happen, and 1 told Col
Inns I would go with him. AS we reached
the place, we found the regiment to which
the deserter belonged just forming. Joe
pointed out the spot where the execution was
to take place. This spot was close by the
high wall stake was driven firmly into
the ground, within few feet of the wall, and
half dozen soldiers with a corporal were
there to guard the premises.
Ere long the regiment was ready; the band
struck up mornful dirge, and the procession
commenced to move. First rode the officers
of the staff, then came the band, and then
most of the regiment following. Behind
these came the six men who were to shoot
himself Following him were four men
bearing a rough coffin and last of all, came
the company to which the deserter belonged.
The soldiers walked with slow and measured
tread
The procession marched wholly around the
place Then the deserter, his attendants and
his company marched up close to the place
of execution.
At length the colonel rode up and waved
his sword toward the poor sergeant who had
been appointed to conduct the fatal work.
The prisoner looked up and saw the colonel,
and with a frantic movement he rushed
toward him.
"Senor colonel" he cried sinking upon his
knees, g I am not guilty! I never belonged
to your regiment. am not soldier. God
knows never wore a uniform before
Away with him." cried the colonel, i'm
patiently.
"Will you not listen?" the poor fellow
urged, louder than before. Never, never,
never was I a soldier"
Garry him back, " ordered the officer to
the sergeant who had come up And then he
added to the prisoner after the sergeant had
raised him up ''Why do you still persist in
telling such falsehood?"
The fellow would have spoken, but the