Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1886-12-19
YHE STORY OF A BOX.

A prisoner at Mayence, painfully
wounded in the left leg above the knee
by the bursting OF Q shell at Sedan,
stretched upon an uncomfortable bed in
n meanly furnished apartment, Capt.
Coste of the Thirty-sixth Line, a great
brawny fellow, bore his misfortunes with
but little patience. GrievoGS twitches
lashed his body, his leg seemed drawn,
gaping open and heavy as lead, and not
withstanding the GOODNESS Of winter
morning a profuse sweat annoyed and
| kept him awake. He "pcSte'd'' and
sacred in low tone, every now and
then letting slip an energetic oath which
neither relieved nor made him less i'll
humOred.
Boron" he cried when the first streak
of light entered his window; BORON,
what time is it," From an adjoining
chamber a hoarse voice quickly responded:
Seven O'Clock, my captain, and little
soldier appeared clad in a coarse linen
shirt and with his blue ordinance crayat
/ tied around his neck.
/ BORON" said the wounded man, you
will do me favor if you will dress quick
/ ly and 90 for the surgeon; this is not
! doing we'll"
Boron obeyed, lighted the fire, opened
the window, and putt of fresh, icy air
rushed into the chamber.
Then closing it he departed, but was not
! long in returning with a stout, red faced
man at his heels, Ornamented with o
greasy hat, yellow beard and dirty
Overcoat trimmed with light saffron col
orcd iur.
what is it, mine officer" demanded
the surgeon in n nasal tone; "it abbears
| you BASED u very bat night"
Il suffer ten thousand devils" the cap
! tain shortly replied.
| Let us see dot Leg The surgeon I'M
covered it, took off the bandages, and the
wound was exposed, tumehed, purulent,
of blush color, circled with red and
| open to the bone. "Sapristi!" exclaimed
Coste, as the air penetrated his wound;
| but the surgeon, perfectly unmoved,
| leaned above him with dull look, feeling
him here and there.
"Wellg'' suddenly asked the captain;
! but instead Of responding the big man
only thOughtfully rubbed his nose.
| Speak, my dear sir-dO not fear, said
| the officer; Il swear to you that would
rather die than pass series of nights such
as have just gone through"
The surgeon looked his patient full in
! the face, and, apparently satisfied with
what he saw, slowly replied: IL tink one
| leetle Liberation will be neceSsaire. -
What! you will have to cut off my
| lcgs' cried the captain, his mustache
standing on end with horror
Yah. | tink So" said the German,
land am sorry to finish you like dot. >
| Tomorrow
mo, not tomorrow; one OF desc days.
1T only needed this" groaned the cap
tain. turning his face TO the wall III COM
plcte prostratiOn of body and soul, while
| they soothed his wound with new dress
iugs Of lint repeated lotions and fresh
| bandageS when will the operation take
| place." demanded the captain, as the man
| with the fur lined OvercOat was about to
take the door. II don't know; l don't
know; noting is cerdain.'
But the captain imagined he knew, and
said TO himself: There is no more hope;
| they must cut it off above the thigh; this
| is not cheerful to think of, but if the worst
! Is to come must arrange my affairs.
The torture of his wound somewhat re-
| lieyed, he begged his servant to bring
| him ink, blotting book and paper. He
| first wrote upon an envelope: mile.
| SiCoul, No - Rue DOminecainS Nancy
Then more and more feveriSh, more and
| more assailed by u flood of dark thoughts
| all tending TO one end, he indited the fol-
| lowing letter:
MY DEAR aunt wrote you in my
| last that my wound was healing; all IS
| changed since then. My doctor is no
| longer satisfied and speaks of cutting OFF
| NV leg That | regret it you can well
understand, but gangrCne leaves me no
| choice, and as in all operations Of this
| kind only about five in ten recover, TWILL
! before it is too late, sOlemnly thank you
for all the care you have given me. the
| loving care of Il mother, and | leave you
all possess. Adicu! my dear aunt, for
| have many gloomy turcbodings. cm-
brace you with all my heart and beg that
| YOU will grieve as little as possible. Thy
nephew. FRANCIS CosTE.
y. Sit Is not dying that grieves me-
| but the fact that am at MaycnCe, and
| that my coffin will be of German pine and
! the ground where they bury me the
ground of Bismarck.
His misSive once on the way the captain
regretted having sent il, he ought TO have
| had more consideration for the feelings of
| the good woman who would receive it, he
ought not to have allowed himself to bc
influenced by only one idea.
Well, Aunt Sigoul received the letter
one morning before breakfast and just as
she was pinning on her silk head dress,
anL nj first, with that selfish feeling of
regret with which all old people, stagger-
inc under the weight Of years, receive
shocks filed with sadness, she uttered
PRAYER to heaven, then began to think OF
the past and the present hours-all alike,
all tiuged with sOrrOwful reflections.
And this war-thiS brutal war-whiCh
had struck her cruelty for the second
time-her heir, the son of her dead sister,
this moor Francis, was i'll and dying far
away in the encmy's country. She began
to feel less and less personally aggrieved
and more deeply affected. Apair of spec
tacles on her nose, black tIlle cap on
her head, and dressed in n dark skirt
she seated herself in her easy chair by
the window where she could hear from
the streets the clank of the conquerors'
swords and the tread of their heavy boots.
She held in her wrinkled hands for a long
time her nephew's letter, opening, fold
ing and rereading it with ever increasing
emotion. All at once an idea, Chris
|
had soothed her first deep grief, and Aunt
Sigoul resolved upon a trip to Mayence
Not that she hoped to find the captain liv-
ing, for to have been so decided in his
adieus he must surely have been marked
by the finger of death. She knew that
Francis Coste, wherever he may have
gone. to paradise or the other place, would
like her to seek his body, bring it to
France and place it in the family sepul-
cher. At least thus she interpreted his
desire in the postscript to his letter
Going to her parish church she prayed
devoutlv. thereby strengthening herself
in her resolve, and from there to the shop
of a carpenter, whom she ordered to make
or procure for her a triple coffin of lead,
oak and mahogany, all to be lncased IN
wooden box and delivered to her in forty
EIGHT hours. Mile. Sigoul had never been
out of Nancy in her life, but with her
passport stamped by the authorities OF
the place, and her ticket in her pocket she