Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1890-08-16

lou are prisoner, monsieur. Your
swordr'
l was dragged down below, where
found some privates and officers sur
rounded by Germans | was indeed a
prisoner.
We marched towards Cologne. My
heart did not give my conscience free
play. loved my brother more than
loved myself, and l also loved my coun-
try more than l loved myself. They had
snatched me from both in the crisis of
their greatest agony. Those only who
have lost twin brother know that ours
is no ordinary grief. 1t is the other half
of us that is dead.
Philippe and l had never been sepa-
rated until he entered Saint Cyr. had
been rejected and my grief was terrible
to witness.
My mother, the holy egotist, was
pleased at it. You can guess why.
My father, chief of battalion, had been
killed at Solferino My sister, five years
our senior, had been married at 16 to a
young physician who had just settled in
the west.
My mother was thus left alone, as from
pecuniary reasons she had been obliged
to consent to our being educated at Pry-
tanee de la Fleche.
Perhaps, but for the outbreak of the
war with Germany might have realized
her dream, which was to have one of us
study law and become a magistrate, so
that we could live near her. But the
blood of a soldier coursed through our
veins, and as soon as war was declared
volunteered in Philippe's regiment.
Never were twins more entirely alike
than we. There was absolutely nothing
to distinguish us-that is nothing but a
difference in intellect. | learned far less
easily than he, but of course that could
not be known BY any outward sign. In
all other respects we were exactly alike
AS children our parents only told us
apart by the color of our cravats. At
La Fleche the naturalization number on
our clothes answered the same purpose
! 1t was only when / was alone in the
small room | hired from the little tailor
at Cologne, that had time to reflect on
all the consequences of my assuming my
brothers identity.
really became forger by appropri-
ating rank to which l had no right,
and allowing a certificate of death to be
entered in the books of the Etat CiviIe
that was incorrect.
/ had received a letter from my heart
broken mother asking for details of nv
own death, of which shA had been in
/ formed. The peasants had found the lit
tie book containing my official description
in the room where we had been fighting,
as well as letter had received from nv
sister, and both had been sent to nv
brother-in-law, the physician, who the
next day learned the sad story of the re-
covered articles. They said that | had
been carefully buried in the little grave
yard of Elsasshausen, and that when the
war was over my relatives could come to
pray at my grave, or have my remains
reinterred near them.
The crime that | had committed at the
request of my poor dead brother weighed
on me heavily. | was eager to return to
France that might give up that portion
of the regimental funds that had been
confded to me, and to establish my iden-
tity.
AT last Tie day arrived, and Or,o rraorr
ing in the month of April, 1871, | rang
at the door of the pretty house at Lisieux
occupied by my aunt, manufacturers
widow, and my charming cousin Odette,
with whom my mother had found
home during the war.
April was exceptionally fine that year
and the garden was rich in floral treas
ures.
All at once two voices cried out in uni
son.
philippe, my Philippe"
/ was just in time to catch my poor
mamma and Odette in my arms as they
came near swooning away. They clasped
me feverishly, almost wildly, in their
embrace, as if some one was trying to
snatch me from them.
Then Odette started back, leaving me
to my mother, who strained me in her
arms, gazed at me, again embraced me,
and then suddenly exclaimed:
"See, Odette, how they have used him!
He's only a shadow. What terrible
thing is war, and in what condition it
sends back those whom it does not kill
They slaughtered my Maurice, and see
what they have done with Philippe Oh!
my fine stalwart boys Ahl the assas
sinsl You are not going back again
you understand, l won't have you in an
other butchery in Paris yonderl'
BE calm, dear mother, my regiment
is being recognized at Havre and we
shall not have to march against the Com
mune."
She turned to my cousin.
"Come, Odette, am not jealous; he is
yours too. All! Philippe, love her well.
If you only knew how she has wept and
prayed for you"
At that moment l remembered some
thing: Philippe and Odette adored each
other and had sworn that they would re-
main faithful Must | also steal this
child's lover
What should do? Must cry out, 81
am deceiving you both, am robbing
you, dear mother, of your sacred grief,
and you of your affection, dear young
girl"
So far as my mother was concerned it
would only be transfer Of sorrow from
one beloved object to another. but in the
case of Odette it would be death blow.
/ therefore continued to play the part
Of Philippe. His dear personality in
which which had robed myself, burnt
me like the shirt of Nessus 1t seemed
to me that could see him starting from
his grave at Elsasshausen and crying:
"Enoughi Give me back my uniform,