Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1893-11-13
A TALE OF WAR.

The dining hail OF the IIauss club, Rue
Prince Frederick Charles, was brilliant
with light aud ustir with noise and voices.
Fifteen or twenty blond bearded prussian
officers, grouped about II table in the cen
ter OF the room, were Gel .hrating in "A
champagne or.,ie the taking Of Paris.
Then it was, when ii became "a question
of emptying thv' cups i'm memory of their
ancient comrade, Lieutenant Roderic Won
Vestermann, that al the officers. moved
a. by n common impulse rose To their feet
and drank the toast stauding-sl of them,
that IL, with single eXception-the
Baron de Schenofen-still in his chair
and enjoying with an ironical regard the
animated and astonished faces of his col
leagues-astonished, as they had reason to
be, at this singular and improper attitude.
"Von Vestermann," he finally said,
"Von Vestermann, To whom you drank a
moment ago rs IA hero, fallen on the field
Of battle, struck by the ball Of the enemy,
deceived you, lied Roderic Won Vester-
pann, whom looked upon in the light
and with the affection OF "A younger
brother, died at the moment when he was
going to commit "A cowardly and Infamous
action, "A crime unworthy IA man of heart;
above all, unworthy OF "a soldier. That is
why, IA moment ago, refused To drink in
memory of this officer.
"And the man who killed hint was
Yes, |, Paul de Schenofen his friend
and comradei
alt was during the terrible winter OF
Is, In the early part of January, and
cold enough at the time TO freeze wolf in
4. i. L.. Il
the country deserted and covered with "A
mantle of snow, as in "A vast winding sheet.
My battalion at the moment, with Nester-
mann for lieutenant, guarded Paris on
this side of the Seine.
"One evening Vestermann and ], re-
turning from scouting errand in the
neighborhood, found that in the darkness
of the night and our ignorance of the tor
tuous bypaths we had wandered from the
direct road-were lost, in Shorthand, to
make matters worse, in the midst Of a
binding snowstorm. Miles 70 the right
of us the light of our campfires shone
against the horizon, but far too distant,
In our harassed and fatiguing condition,
to dream Of reaching them.
"All at once, TO the left, our eyes caught
the glimmer of a candle in the window of
had concealed from us. We turned in the
direction of this light and soon were at
the door. At our knock young girl
opened to us, neither hurredly nor with
confusion. but with the manner of one en-
tirely accustomed to similar visitors.
Quietly, and without the slightest demur,
she ushered us, i'm answer To our demand
for food and shelter, into a tiny sale a
manger, clean and simple, and began to
serve us-still without addressing US a
single word-with all that we had need of.
"a silence as absolute, stony, expires
sionless IA this was the silence of statue.
IL began TO interest me-I was puzzled by
il.
"In the meantime Vestermann drank
and drank always, but watching from the
corner of his eye our gentle and beautiful
hostess; yes, more than beautiful, the
dead black Of her costume bringing out
the marble whiteness and delicacy Of fea-
lures as fine and clean cut as If chiseled by
the hand of sculptor. Nevertheless, In
spite of its beauty, it was the face Of one
who had suffered much.
"Vestermann, as tell you, watched her
continually, and as the wine began TO take
effect upon him amused himself by teas
ing her, calling her every instant TO his
side under the most frivolous pretenses.
Repeatedly signed to him 10 be silent-to
leave the child alone-but he seemed not
to hear meat least did not listen to me.
Wine and passion had put devil In him
and made him another man.
"At last, as the repast ended and before
l could interfere, or even guess what he
was going To do, he leaped TO his feet, and
throwing his arms about the waist of the
young girl drew her to his side and
pressed upon her lips the most brutal
kisses. She strove 10 release herself with
fierce but strangled cries. | ran to her as
sistance-at the moment a door behind us
opened and man, specter rather, almost
naked, bleeding from "A dozen saber cuts,
his brow livid and bound with a blood
stained bandage. staggered across the
threshold
alt was the father Of this sad faced child
and wounded unto death the evening be
fore in skirmish with our people.
'Scoundrel = he cried, advancing upon
Vestermann, an expression of savage hate
convulsing his visage, is it not enough
to kill the father, that now thou must
ravsh the daughter, Ruflian robberp
and he flung himself forward with the
fury of maddened animal.
"Still retaining his hold upon the swoon-
ing girl, Vestermann met his advance with
blow of the fist and kick that sent him
to the floor with a moan of pain and
anger. l started forward-too late-Ves-
termann's sword had pierced his heart.
"The next five minutes" continued
Schenofen, "are the same as blank to me.
Before the barbarous act Of my comrade
a wave Of blood seemed TO mount to my
brain. ! thought nothing-I saw nothing
but the form Of the father dead upon
the floor, the appealing face and eyes of
the child supplcating me for help from
the arms of n ravisherl
al leaped upon him-I tore her from hi
grasp sent him headlong to the corner
of the room Sober, surprised, but more
enraged than ever, Vestermann drew his
pistol and darted toward me-to receive
ball in his brain
"The child-the dead father, did you
ask me' know not that eitheri IL was
two days before could reach camp and
return again to carry away the body of
my comrade, decided by the officers before
whom the affair was laid and for the honor
Of the corps To have fallen under the fire
of the enemy.
"That Ia all, messieurs, and the reason
! refused the toast Of moment ago"
Saying this, Paul de Schenofen rose TO
bis feet and passed from the clubroom TO
the lighted streets with who knows what
balm and longing gnawing at the heart