The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1885-12-31
weeks more Charles and Louis were of to
the front, to fight for France as volunteers.

weeks more Charles and Louis were of to
the front, to fight for France as volunteers.
III.
In six months, what terrible changesl
Play turned to earnest, joy driven away by
Hardly, one W .uid think, in the Chateau de
Mesnil, where chose two lad had spent
their happy childhood. By this time it had
been twice or three times occupied by the
Germans, who had cut down the trees,
hacked the rooms to pieces and sent the
furniture away in wagon-loads to Germany.
No one was there.
The Hotel Dieu was an immense building,
with many staircases and long galleries.;
with windows down each side, all entirely
paved with white stone. Facing each other,
through these galleries, were the rows of
little iron bedsteads. with white pillows
wounded. In summer, sick people were
happy enough in these great airy places,
with glimpses of blue sky and green waving
trees through the many windows; bnt now,
when the windows were coated with ice,
and the trees were gray and ~leafess, and no
number of burning logs would warm the
chill air, their teeth woul almost chatter
as they lay in he'd. There seemed to be no
and blankets sent by all the kind women Of
Saint Jean.
Yet the Hotel Dieu was a real heaven to
| poor wounded soldiers, who had been lying
out for hours, stiff and sore, on the hard
ground, under the iron freezing sky.
One afternoon Sister Madeleine, thehead
of the ward, was going her rounds, followed
special friend of hers. And this one who is
unconscious-he is an ~oficer,''
Sister Madeleine to her companion. 'The
doctor knew his name, but I forgot it; yeti
think he came from this country. must
ask again and let his family know, for he
will die"
"From this country" said the girl,
making a step forward.
The tired face that lay thrown back IN
the pillow was SO worn and changed that
his mother would hardly have known it.
."Ah, ma seur, why will he diel" ex-
claimed the girl, catching her breath and
"My child, dc you know him."
"Yes, indeed!" 1t is M. De Mesnil. His
mother is in Paris; he can not go home.
Shall he not be carried to our house"
Sister Madeleine was one of Barbe
Duval's few dear friends and knew the
whole story. She had a very warm heart,
full of sympathy, with all girls troubles
and with Barbe's in particular.
mo, my child. His only chance is to be
quite undisturbed. Come, little one,'' said
the good Sister, with a twinkle of fun,
"here will be a triumph of nursing, if yon
can bring him through. There, ! make him
Barbe saw no joke, if there was any. She
took a chair and sat down at the foot of the
bed.
shall I watch, ma s9ur, to see when he
Certainly: The very thing" said smil-
ing Sister Madeleine as she moved away.
This was all very fine, but NJ. and Mime.
quite enter into Sister Madeleine.s romantic
arrangement. The next day BaFbe did not
appear at the hospital. She stayed at home
and was scelded for her want of self-respect.
In two or three days, however, she ap-
peared again. Her father and mother,
having nearly broken their own hearts by
their severity, gave in humbly and let her
do as she pleased. After all, the young
man was hardly sensible, and it was New
Years Day, on which, from her infancy,
Barbe had always had whatever she chose
to ask for.
Charles De Mesnil was not dead. On the
contrary, he was slowly struggling back to
life through the dark ways Of pain and
weakness. When Sister Madeleine spoke
to him he only answered by a half-ahgry
groan. She went away, but he was con
scious that somebody was sitting beside
him, and by and by he muttered in a hoarse
whisper:
as Paris taken?n
mo, monsieur, not yet" answered a soft,
clear voice.
Charles did not look up to see who was
back some long ago-something painful, in
spite of its sweetness; something that had
happened in a former life, before the long
TONS termen thigh him li but I he fo &suaf aSu e
in puzzfing and wondering about that
voice.
Early in the morning, waking from a
restless sleep. tired of his dreams and of
his pain, and impatient of his helplessness,
he yet knew that his brain was stronger
and clearer and felt quite sure that he
would not die. What was there to live for?
Charles nduiged himself in a long, melan-
choly sigh.
At the same moment Barbe Duval came
up and stood beside him, looking down
with eyes full of generous pity. Her hands
were loosely folded in front Of her and
was very grave and dignifed. The color
deepened as Charles stared with his hollow,
dark eyes. Then he said something which
she had to bend to hear and which brought
quite a crimson blush
"Take off your cap, if you pleasep
How could. ono refuse a poor wounded
soldier! Barbe slowly lifted her strong,
shapely hands to her cap-strings,. united
no longer frizzed OF padded.
Your hair is not the same" said Charles.
She stood bareheaded and smiling
sweetly.
81 have altered it for my cap" she said.
Charles said no more, but lay gazing at
her. Just as this silent interview was be-
coming awkward, at least for Mile. Duval,
the surgeon came up with one of the Sisters.
Barbe hastily flung on her cap and darted
away down the corridor.
Charles did not see her again for some
hours, and during that time he thought
about her a great deal. At last, in the
him, but not alone; Sister Madeleine was
with her. He quietly submitted to have his
pillows shaken, and then, looking up into
the Sisters kind face, he said:
slave l offended Mile. Duval again
Will she not speak to me?"
"You know best, sir,'' said Sister Made
!eine, whether you deserve any civility
from Mile. Duval."
.T IL ,1k - ..:l Cl--J-. .z.z11x llD-A
she is a good Christian and will forgive me-"
Th Sister smiled and went away.
Barbe Duval came and sat down beside
him.
said. "You have your wish; the wounded
men are come. l am a much nicer object,
lying here, than walking about with whole
limbs. Do not you think so? You like OBJ
jects of charity
"You are much grander, that is true,'
said Barbe, looking away that he might not
see the tears caused by his bitter little
speech.
st is a beautiful state of things, truly"
Charles went on. Everything in ruins.
Have you heard that my poor old old home
is dismantled, and all the furniture gone to
Germany? My brother is a prisoner, and
so is my mother, shut up in Paris. Do not
you pity usl"
mos said Barbe; sit is all given to
France, and she repays you in glory
."Glory! When it is nothing but defeat,
disgrace"
ssNo, never disgrace
swell, mademoiselle, will you do me a
favor? Will you write to my mother and
tell her how L am don forl Then let the
General have it, and he will send it the next
opportunity
~"Certainly," said Barbe.
| She went away for a minute, and came
back with some paper and ink. On the way
Sister Madeleine stopped her, and looked
into her face; its usual calmness was a little
| rufied.
~ am trusting thee, my child, ~ said Sister
Madeleine.
81 know said Barbe, smiling family, II
am going to write to his mother"
She came back to her place, and was tried
by several minutes of silence.
Charles was composing his letter, but he
was doing it with his eyes fixed upon her
60 intentlN with Sr1ch Sin.an oe eYnrassinn in