Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1895-01-12
agreed that he shall die. 2

"Aye, he must die,n chorused the
others; but my parched lips gave
forth no sound.
Then, one by one, my friends
came and embraced me and went
out /; but Pulaski passed me without
a word. Only his fierce glance SEEM
ed to burn into my very soul.
One barrel for him, one barrel
for me p l muttered. Staggering to
my feet, ! hid the pistol in my bos-
ON and walked into the tobacconist's
shop.
Old Lecop was behind the little
counter, as usual, but | passed him
without word.
Wilt thou not have one to day,
Francois ~ he asked, pushing the
box toward me.
He WAS an old man, and blear-
eyed but be was poor and the pur-
chases OF the little company who
met so frequently in that back room
meant much to him. | threw him a
franc, and, selecting cheroot me-
chemically, went out without my
change. On the walk | began to tear
off mouthfuls of the strong tobacco
and eat it as hungry man would
eat bread. Then my brain became
clearer, and | was able to think, and
plan, and remember, once more.
1t was dark when I made my way
into his garden. 1t was a beautiful
garden, but gardens are only for the
rich. A great wall was built all
about it that the poor might not
even see its beauty. All things are
denied the poor but labor; that they
have in plenty.
He was in the habit of walking in
his garden early in the morning.
We all knew that everybody knew
it, in fact, so consealed myself be.
side the path and waited. The pis-
tol was in my bosom-my hand up
on it. / could not fail to hit the
mark, for he would pass within
yard of me.
Zone barrel for him, the other for
me !" kept repeating, and thus the
night wore away and the gray dawn
broke at last.
First liveried servitor--as
naughty as his master-marched
down the walk and unbarred the
massive gate. Then other tokens of
life appeared about the villa. A
maid was singing about her work
she had clear, sweet voice. Some
how it sounded like my mothers,
though in what manner | could not
tell. Perhaps she sang the same dit
ty that I had heard her sing to my
little sister.
These recollections brought the
tears to my eyes, but | gripped the
pistol more firmly.
At last I saw him come from the
hall and pass down the marble steps
into the garden. He was hand
some, imposing old man, and hearty
looking, as though he had yet many
years of life before him.
[ alone knew that he had but
few moments / would let him enjoy
the sweet morning air for little
while, then
zone barrel for him, the other for
you."
/ could almost have sworn that it
was Pulaski's voice in my ear, yet a
startled. glance around assured me
that l was alone in the shrubbery.
And he wss coming down the path
toward me. On his breast were sew
eral decorations, for he was never
seen abroad--not even in his garden
without being fully dressed. How
the baubles glittered in the sunlight
In a few moments his life blood
would blot out their brightness, for
he was coming nearer, and the pistol
was in my hand now.
My finger trembled on the trigger;
yet | would wait a moment. He
would be nearer; and, besides, the
air was sweet, and how beautiful the
sunlight sparkeled through the spray
of the fountain.
Suddenly there was an eager,
childish shout from the villa, and q
little figure dashed out over the por-
tai and down the path with a cry Of
'Granpere !"
Such lovely, fairy-like creature
as she was She was like my little
sister, and he swung her up into his
arms and kissed her just as / had Of
ten kissed Joan ere she died.
He went to the garden seat near
by and drew her to bis knee. How
lovingly she threw her arms about
his neck and patted his cheek with
her tiny hands! All, how she would
feel when they found him dead in the
garden. One might easily see that
her loving little heart was wholly
given over TO him. 'Twould be a
pity to break that little heart, yet
even then the pistol was turned full
upon him.
And while she prattled on, and he
listened, and | watched the two, a
sudden tumult arose outside the gar
den. There were boarse cries, and