The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1889-07-06

taDle, 1our chairs, a camp bed, a stand
of arms, formed the whoIe,of his fur.
niture. No - we have Aforgotten
something-a cradle stood in the
room, which, by its comfort and ele-
gance, contrasted very much with
the rest of the furniture. On the Off
GERS table, among his books, papers
and segars, stood tin soldiers. arrayed
in order of battle, which were COM
manded by child with fair hair,
whose clothes were worth six months
of zouave's pay. The young lady
had scarcely glanced at the child be-
fore she uttered loud cry, rushed up
to him to embrace him and then fell
fainting into the old gentleman's
arms. Victor AZ once recognized the
Illsstll 81 q the ltle slsel -
the wife of his brothers. murderer,
whom he had left for dead in her
room at Sebastopol. She it was. in
deed, accompanied by her father.
After her recovery she had passed
three months in searching for the
Sergeant, and had been led to him at
last, as we have just seen.
81 understand it ALL" said Victor,
as he wiped a tear from his eye, as he
beheld the mother embracing her
child "but if l know your story,
madam. you DO not yet know mine."
And he told her in whisper, so that
the child should not hear it, about
the attack on the Malakoff and the
death of Charles. The young lady
turned away her eyes and the old
man was silent. "You see how L
have avenged mvself," concluded the
zouave.
II shall never forget it !" exclaim-
ed the mother, as with eyes full of
tears she looked now at the rosy
cheeks, now at the siken cradle. Ask
of Inc all my fortune and I will give
it to you for my SON."
Zone moment" said Victor, plac-
ing his hand on the fair head "the
child is mine and can only give
him up to his father, while L leave
to him the choice of the weapous,"
he added glOOmily, with a fierce
look.
"Be silent, unhappy man !" groan-
ed the old gentleman. His father
is no longer living. Do you not see
the mourning dress of the widow
His body was found on September
3 at the MaIakoff. saa.....,,..
"Good !" said Charles's brother in
a low voice, so that the young lady
should not hear. "May God forgive
him, as nv brother doubtless has for.
given him Madam" he continued,
as he turned away his head to con.
ceal his emotion. "let there be peace
between us, as there is between
France and Russia. Take your child
back, and never tell him the story of
his father"
II promise it. sir but l shall tell
him yours" replied the mother, as
she gave the Lieutenant her hand.
Victor pressed it, and then gazed for
a long timeinto the eyes of the "little
eagle"
"You must leave me, my child"
he said in choked voice "you
won't see Papa Carabine again." The
child sprang upon the Zouave's knees.
He shall come and see you every
day, if you will allow it," exclaimed
the mother. II have settled with
my father in Paris"
Victor pressed his hand over his
eyes. drew deep sigh, took the child
once more in his arms, filled his arms
with playthings, and carried him
down to the carriage.
"Get in, Lieutenant" said the
lady, as she made room for him.
1--WE must accustom Alexander to
the separation, and 1 want to show
you the Way to my hotel"
Victor hesitated, but the child's
tears decided him.
"Ah your name is Alexander,
like your Emperor" he said, smil-
ing. "Well, he has made peace. and
peace is a beautiful thing-after
war!"
He got into the carriage and led
his adopted son into the hotel, where
he found the same treasures that he
had trodden under foot at Sebastopol.
And afterward there was often to
be seen in the drives of Paris Rus
sian carriage, in which sat an old
gentleman with white beard, a lady
dressed in black, child of six or
seven years old, and a Captain of
zouaves, decorated with the cross of
the Legion of Honor. 1t is the Coun-
tess c.. who vowed to wear
mourning all her life for her husband,
and for Charles Carabine her father,
Prince Alexis k; her son, AL
exander, and Captain Victor Cara
hipo uvbn XUOn hiS nronotinn fO tho