The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1889-05-31

here and there, all seemed to point to this as
conclusive. He glanced round the straw
lined vehicle us it jolted over the rough un
even roads. Four other figures were
stretched there like himself. Now and then
q moan Of pain escaped them. One he rec.
ognized as the gay young soldier who had
laughed and jested at the wine tavern the
evening before that sharp and short en-
counter with the enemy, whose results had
been so disastrous.
sit is you, then, Poupard, is lt?" he said
languidly. "Are you hurt?"
''Should I be here else?" grunted the othel
ungraciously. "Devil take these brutes
they have crushed every bon in my body.
verify believe"
"How was it? Pierre asked languidy.
"It was one Of their horses; the hoofe
struck mo down. 1 was dragged out from
under the animal afterward, so they say. A
shot had killed him, and he fell on me-
Dame why did he not kill me outright
'Twould bo better than to be MANNED for life,
as 1 assuredly shall bo now"
Pierre sighed weari!y. Perhaps he thought
there were worse things to endure even than
to be MANNED for life.
care they taking US to their own curse,
country. think you2 demanded Poupar,
presently.
"I cannot say. do not even remember
how long have been here. 1t seems an age
since that skirmish."
"'Tis but a day and night; and, by the
way, that reminds me how came it you wer,
so late in giving the alarmp Our captain is
furious. He blames the whole disaster to
you"
Pierre's face flushed deeply beneath its
pallor Of pain.
sis that true!" he said, fiercely.
"Mon Dieul Yes. Have you ever known
me lie?"
81 gave the warning instantly. They seem
to have stolen up like shadows. l cannot
tell how they came so suddenly and quickly
''They are in league with the fiend hms ELF,
I believe" growled the other. ferociously,
"Will their luck never end?'
at seems not"
"And we SO near Paris" continued Pou-
pard discontentedy, "but days march,
and they will be looking out for US. Helm |
but it is hard"
"The fortune of war;" murmured Pierre.
sour turn may come YET"
''There is II chance of escape, perhaps"
whispered Poupard, restlessly; thsy arc all
SO sure, it might be easy to surprise them
one night. Where are the others?"
81 do not know. Hush, here comes
trooper"
clay your plans more cautiously, mes
sieurs," said q voice beside them, the voico of
tho Uhlan whose approach they had noticed:
1--WE understand French as well as you, here"
CONSERVATION depicted itself on Poupard's
face. From that time he lay silently on the
straw, meditating his plans in his own mind
and more convinced than ever that his foes
were in league with the powers of darkness,
since actions, movements and language were
nike known to them. He wondered if his
thoughts even escaped that secret espionage.
AS days passed on, however, the wild plans
OF escape which he had formed grow moro
apparently hopeless. Food was scantY. his
wounds and bruises tormented him more and
more. The way was long and the weather
terrible. Hardship and privations weakened
his frame and damped his ardor. He was
separated from his companions after those
rash overheard words, and in silence and
solitude he suffered now, till courage forsook
and misery crushed him.
81 shall die soon," he said to himself, and
his words seemed us if they were to be
speedily verified.
He and Pierre Leroux were in tho hospital
ward togother-a dismal enough place. ex-
tcmporized from sheer necessity, as many
of the soldiers were too prostrated by hun
ger, and fever, and wounds. to proceed any
further.
Gentle-voiced women, somo highly born
md delicatey nurtured, fitted to and fro in
those dreary wards-mnisterins angels to
the poor broken-spirited sufferers, whom
they tended with untiring patience.
One morning one of tho sisterhood came
quietly up TO Pierre's side as he lay weak and
feverish on his narrow bed. "Your friend
died last night" she said, gently. "Hc babe
me give you this letter, with a request that il
ever opportunity offers, you will deliver it to
his mother. He was from your own part OF
Normandy, believe"
Pierre took the letter from her hand in 81.
Ience, then turned his face to the wall and
sighed.
Gwen he dies" he cried, in the depths OF
his desolato heart. "shall /, to whom life is
hateful. alone be sparedF'