Wichita eagle., 1889-11-19
# YOU. Obey me, and am yours

Of you. Obey me, and l am yours"
1.-THE de.lI the dsvilI" he groaned in ago
nv. And be struggled anew with the afro
cious thought: his honor as soldier, his
pride as a Frenchman revolving against it.;
shame, rage, love, by turns disputing his
heart He loved her, he was weak as q
child, and tears were not strangers to his
eyes
One morning after night OF sleeplessness
be got I'D and regarded himself IN the glass
white, haggard, shaking; it was the face OF an
old man that confronted him.
$50 be it," said be- as he looked; 'she de-
mands an infamy. Well, that infamy, COM
NIT it, and afterward-will kill myself imlne-
diatelyl"
And reclothing himself in his uniform,
Jacques Laborde descended to the street
Where was he goingi And what going to
dos lie was going to the Rue Saint Domi-
nique, tc the Ministry of War, on whose staff
he was a trusted officer, and he was going to
find and to copy, if possible to do 50, the i'm
portant papers relative to the concentration
of the French forces in case Of German at
tack
This Was what Jeanne d'Antrague had de
manded sf him-a treachery in payment for
her Lowell
And in the streets, as he wandered on and
on, Jacqaes staggered on his legs like a
drunken man, murmuring to himself in
broken works and laughing at times strange
laughter half choked with sob. Still, he
intended TO obey Jeanne; be was on bis way
to obey her then, and that same day would
see the triumph of his Lowell
From time to time, as he walked at ran
don1 he would stop moment as If to retrace
his steps, He could not do this will was
powerle.s; and always before him shone the
face of Jeanne, her seductive smile and the
dangerous charm Of her beautiful body.
Jeanne preceded him; 1t was she who showed
him the road with the tip Of her finger and
said to him: ''Thou dost not love me, thenl"
If he hesitaped q second.
He was truly like one intoxicated He ran
ON stumblingly; the people stopped to look at
him; be needed them not. Some gauins and
soldiers saluted him as he passed; he saw
them not And then, all Of sudden, in the
Rue de Grenelle, with head bent forward and
ears alert, he stopped and listened; he had
caught the sound Of bugle roll, the rhyth-
mic tread of a battalion.
He wished to fly, but could not; his feet
were nailed to the pavement. and the soldiers
upon him, marching galiantly with guns on
shoulders and tyumpets ceaselessly sounding
their warlike notes. recalling battles, the
crack of musketry, the cries Of combat and
triumphant assaults
1t was not TIL the last echo Of the battalion
had passed from hearing that Jacques La
horde, breathing freely again, resumed his
way to the ministry. But gradually as he
approached it his step became heavy and
slow; he stopped more frequently and looked
behind him, and soon, before its door, he saw
the sentry box, the sentry beside it, erect and
motionless and gun in hand.
A brave and honest soldier, too, this sentry,
strong and broad Of shoulder, heavy Of figure
and wearing the uniform of the infantry of
the line, bis frank, rosy countenance notified
with freckles, his hair and mustache fiery
red, and the air OF a raw recruit imprinted
on every feature Certainly not handsome
soldier, but Jacques LOberde, standing there
and watching him with widening eyes, saw
him grow ard grow and take ON astounding
proportions and double and quadruple him
self and become as legion.
1t was no longer single sentry box and a
single occupant he had in front Of hint
was the whole nation; it was France herself
angered and aceusiugl This soldier. so hum
bic and awkward, had come fran afar, had
left his home, his docks, his farm, his carts
and harvesters his family. perhaps, to do his
duty-he loved and would defend hiscountryl
Ay, and from every corner OF France had
come others like him 10 do the same at the
trumpets call!
He approached him closer; he was COM
PEELED, in fact, to pass him to enter the door.
and the soldier, seeing an officer coming,
drew his heels together, fell into position and
presented arms.
Jacques uttered q stided exclamation
France-embodied in this soldier-France sa-
luted her traitorous sonl
He turned away in inexpressible disorder,
to come again when be had little recovered
his calrnness and to be stopped again by the
same reluctance, shame and disgust of self at
sight Of that soldier in the name Of the army,
in the name of France, still saiuting him.
1t was too much; he could stand it no
longer, and with touch Of hts kept in re-
Spouse to the salute, Jacques Laborde wheeled
and returned to the Rue dc Verneu1l. to that
tiny lodging and room where he had dreamed
and thought Of this coming war, where be
had suffered and where be had yielded him
self to thought Of treason.-Translated from
the French of Merry, by E. c. Waggener, for
N. Y. Mercury.