Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-06-13

which ne nao seen on the Omcer VINO slew
his brother.
This, then, Is his wife whom he has be-
fore his eyes-this is his son whom he is
about to savel Victor. who has overcome
the cholera and faced death in thousand
forms, sinks down upon chair. He
struggles in a terrible conflict with him.
self, his sword seems to move at his side
and his musket seems to cry "Fire!" But
another figure stood between him and his
slaiu brother-tbat of the dead mother of
the child, who seemed to be kneeling be-
fore him with clasped hands.
ooh! 1 am sufficiently avenged! No
ca uelty" the zouave exclaims, springing
Up, and then the words of the blessed
Savior came into his mind: "Whatso
ever ye do unto one of these little ones
ye do it unto me-" And with gentle
hands he took up the little child, whose
father had killed Charles Carabine. and
bearing him close to his heart he passed
with Indifference by the silver plate with
out needing the jewels and rich dresses.
On the evening of that cay the zouave
returned with the little Russian in his
arms to his tent, and prepared for him as
good q supper as he could, and his rough
comrades Wed with each other in pro-
pairing him nest as soft as that of his
mother.
Several months had passed since these
events. Peace was signed at Paris, and
Victor Carabine, with his comrades, had
returned to the capital, taking the "young
black eagle" with them.
About the middle of January, 1856, an
old man and young lady in deep mourn
ing still very pale from the effects of
illness from which she had scarcely re-
covered-arrived at hotel in Paris from
st. Petersburg. The first thing they did
was to drive to the barracks in the rue de
la Pepiniere and inquire for Sergeant
Victor Carabine. "You mean the lieu
tenant" answered groom; "he lives a
few steps from here" and he told them
the street and number. The young lady
did not even get into the carriage again,
but led the old man to the house which
had been pointed out to them.
Lieutenant Victor was at home. The
two strangers went up one story, rang
the bell at a small door and stood be-
fore the lieutenant. He started when he
saw them, and led them into his modest
room. 4 writing table, four chairs, a
camp bed, a stand of arms, formed the
whole of his furniture. Move have
forgotten something's cradle stood in
the room, which, by its comfort and ele-
garce contrasted very much with the
rest of the furniture. On the officer 8
table, among his books, papers and
cigars, stood tin soldiers, arranged in or
der of battle, which were commanded by
a child with fair hair, whose slothes were
worth six months of a zouave's pay. The
| young lady had scarcely glanced at the
child before she uttered a loud cry, rush
| ed upon him to embrace him and then
fell fainting into the old gentleman IS
arms, Victor at once recognized the
mother of the "little black eagle" the
| wife of his brothers Murderer, whom he
| had left for dead in her room at Sebas
| topol. She was, indeed, accompanied by
| her father. After her recovery she had
/ passed three months in searching for the
sergeant, and had been leo to him at last,
as we have just seen.
81 understand ALL" said Victor, as he
wiped tear from his eye, as he beheld
the mother embracing her child; "but if
| know your story, madam, you do not yet
know mine" And he told her in whisp-
er, so that the child should not hear it,
about the attack on the Malakoff and the
death of Charles. The young lady turn
ed away her eyes and the old man was
silent. lyon see how l have avenged
myself" concluded the zouave.
| 81 shall never forget It'll" exclaimed the
mother, as with her eyes full of tears she
looked now at the rosy cheeks, now at
| the silken cradle. "Ask me all my for
tune and will give it to you for my
son."
| "One moment" said Victor, placing his
hand on the fair head; 1.-The child is mine
and can only give him up to his father
| while l Leave to him the choice of the
Weapons" he added gloomily, with 6
fierce look.
BE silent, unhappy man" groaned ths
old gentleman; "his father is no longer
living Do you not see the mourning
dress of the widow His body was fourG
on Sept. 8 at the Malakoff."
'Good!" said Charles brother in a low
voice, so that the young lady should no
hear. "May God forgive him, as m!
brother doubtless mas forgiven him
Madam" he continued, as he turned ava!
his head in order to conceal his emotion
''let there be peace between US, as there
is between France and Russia. Take you
child back, and never tell him the story o.
his father!"
II promise it, sir; but / shall tell hin
yours" replied the mother, as she gave
the lieutenant her hand. Victor pressed
it, and then gazed for long time into
the eyes of the ''little eagle"
you must leave me, my child" he sail
in q ohoked voice; "you won't see Pap'
Carabine again." The child sprapg VI
ON the zouave's knees.
He shall come and see you every day
if you will allow it," exclaimed tn,
mother. 81 have settled with my fathe
in Paris"
Victor passed his hand over his eyes
drew deep sigh, took the child once
more in his arms, filled his arms will
playthings, and carried him down to tn,
carriage.
sect in, Eeutenant," said the lady, al
she made room for him. "We must &C
custom Alexander to the separation, and
want to show yoa the way to my hotel
Victor hesitated, but the child's tear
decided him.
"Ah! your name is Alexander, like you
emperor" he said, smiling. swell, he ha
made peace, and peace is beautiful
thing-after WARP
i, He got into the carriage and led hi
adopted son into the hotel, where b
fopnd the same treasures that he ha.
trodden under foot at Sebastopol.
Aud afterwards there was often to b.
seen In the drives of Paris Russian car
risge in which sat an old gentleman witt
white beard, lady dressed in black,
, child six or seven years old, and a captain
of zouaves, decorated with the cross o
the Legion of Honor. 1t is the Counties
c., who vowed to wear mourning al
| bar life for har husband and for CharIf
Caraoine, her father Prince Alexis K
| LInrln- Enr+nir, iatc,