The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1893-09-07

one morning just after breakfast, he read there
the news OF the disaster of Richshoffen.
Now, though the Due dc Hardimont had led
an enervating life, there were occasions on
which he could not forget that Enguerraud de
Hardimont died of the plague at Tunis on the
same day with st. Louis, that Jean de Hardi-
mont commanded the great companies under
du Guesclin and that Francois Henri de Hardi-
mont was killed while making charge with
Maison Rogue at Fontenoy.
Thus it was that in the early part of Novem-
Der of 1870. having re-entered Paris with his
regiment, which formed part of the corps of
Winery, Henri de Hardimont, fusIier, third
man of the second line. and member of the
Jockey club, formed, with his company, part
of the main guard in front of the redoubt of the
Hautes Bruyeres position fortified in haste
and protected by the cannon of the fort of
Bcetre.
An engagement had taken place there few
days before; the grapeshot had cut asunder
several of the saplings by the roadside, and they
all bore on their bark the white scars left by
the shot.
The empty arbors, rooted by a network of
dark branches; the casks turned bottom up
wards; the swing. the cords of which creaked
in the wind, and the words over the door de-
faced by balls, Private rooms; Vermouth !;
wine SO confines litre "-al recalled with
cruel irony the Sunday pleasures of the people
in days gone by.
At the door of the inn the young Duke stood
motionless. his chassepot slung across his
shoulder. his kipi drawn over his eyes, his be-
numbed hands thrust into the pockets of his
red trousers, shivering inside the sheepskin
cloak.
He had given himself up to gloomy medita-
tion, the soldier of defeat, and was watching
with heart-broken glance the line of hills fad
ing away in the mist, above which arose, in
rapid succession, accompanied each time by a
detonatiOn, the white puffs of smoke of the
Krupp cannon.
All at once he was conscious of q sensation of
hunger. He knelt down on one knee and took
from his knapsack, which rested against the
wall beside him, large piece of ammunition
bread then. as he had lost his knife. he broke
it of, bit by bit, with his teeth, and ate it
slowly
But after few mouthfuls he had had enough !;
the bread was hard and had bitter taste.
The profession was in truth, at times rather
rough one; and all at once there came to mind
the thought Of what he used to call his hy-
gienic breakfasts when, on the morning after
a supper of too stimulating character. he
would sit opposite window on the ground floor
of the Cafe Anglais and order-good heavens!
the merest trife, an omeet with asparagus and
the head waiter. knowing bis habits, would
place the table a slender bottle of old Sc
vile. resting softly in a basket, and uncork it
carefully.
And in moment of impatence the young
man flung the rest of the piece of bread he had
been eating in the mud.
At the same instant a private of the line
came out of the ruin; he stopped down. picked
up the piece of bread, withdrew few steps,
wiped the mud from it with his sleeve, and be-
gan to devour it eagerly.
Henri de Hardimont was already ashamed of
his action, and gazed with pity at the poor
fellow who had given proof of so good an appe-
tite.
He was tall and loosely-built youth, with
feverish eyes and a beard that betrayed q re-
cent sojourn in the hospital, and SO thin that
his shoulder-blades were sharply defined
through the cloth of his well worn cape.
"You seem to be very hungry. comrade," said
the Duke, approaching the soldier.
"As you see" replied the latter, with his
mouth full.
Forgive me, then; if 1 had known you
would like to eat it, should not have thrown
away my bread"
"There is no harm done," replied the SOL
der; {" / am not so very delicate in my tastes"
"No matter" said the nobleman; "what 1
did was wrong, and reprosch myself for it. But
do not want you to take away with you bad
opinion of me, and as l have some old cognac
IN my can a0Ietu-pdEUiouy we WILL COMo anu
drink it together"
And you are called-?" inquired the SOL
dier of his comrade.
Hardmont," responded the Duke, sup
pressing the title and prefix to his name. Sand
you?"
"Jean Victor. I have only recently joined
the company-Pve just left the ambulance
I was wounded at Chatillon. All, it was very
pleasant in the ambulance; the nurse gives one
such good horsefesh soup. l shall now begin
to suffer from hunger as before. For whether
you choose to believe it or not. such as you see
me have been hungry all my life.
This statement, made to q voluptuary who,
a moment since. had been remembering with
regret the cuisine of the cafe Anglais, was
terrible one
The soldier smiled sorrowfulIy, disclosing to
view teeth that resembled those of a wolf.
Then, as if comprehending that the Duke was
waiting for some further disclosures:
"Stay," he said. "Stay, lee us walk little up
and down the road to warm our feet. and
will tell you things such as l daresay you
have never heard before. My name is Jean
Victor-Jean Victor, and nothing more, for 1
am a foundling, and my only happy recollee-
tions are those of my early childhood at the
asylum.
"The bed-clothes on our little beds in the dor
mitory were always clean and white; we played
in a garden under the shade of great trees But
as soon as L WAS IL years Olu tHcEo WAS
then but misery.
"The Directors apprenticed me to chair
mender of the Faubourg st. Jacques. This is
not trade you understand it is impossible to
gain ones living at it, so that, for the most
part the master could entiee only the boys of
the Blind Boys Asylum to become his appren-
tices.
"Then it was that first began to suffer from
hunger The master and mistress were terrible
misers, and the bread, of which they gave us a
little piece at every meal, was Kept under lock
and key the rest of the time.
"And in the evening at supper you should
have seen the mistress in her black cap, heav-
ing sigh at every glance she stole into the
soup tureen when she gave our soup
"And the misfortune was that / had always
had good appetite. Is that any fault of mine?
l ask.
81 passed three years of this apprenticeship
always hungry. Three years! One could learn
the business in a month, but the Directors could
not know everything. and did not suspect that
the boys were imposed upon.
"There were sometimes windfalls, too-the
bits of bread, nibbled at the end, that the
schoOlboys would take from their lunch. baskets
and throw on the pavement as they came out
of school. / tried to take that direction as
often as / could in doing my orrands.
''And then. when the apprenticeship was
over, it was a trade, as / have said, that would
not feed man. All, tried many other things
in turn.
"I had heart for work, had / waited on
I ohnr -hnxy fttrt fffr.a .fiehn