Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1895-05-16
THE LIE TONY TOLD,

had known Jacques de Keroualles
at Fontainebleau years before the war,
and when he was brought into my little
field hospital amid theSluxuriant Vine
yards Of Marly-sur-Seine only a few
miles from the edge of the great forest,
he recognized me at once. It was early
morning. Indeed the dawn had scarce
come, and the river below us was pearly
gray in the growing light, as rivers are
before sunrise.
"L'Anglais," he cried joyously, for
De Keroualles was q merry soul He
raised his blood stained hand in little
gay salute l make no doubt he had
fought bravely and in a manner worthy
Of the old blood in his veins. He was wet
through and covered with dirt The
battle had taken place on the previous
afternoon, and the wounded were conse.
quently allowed to lie out on the fields
the whole night. "Le petit jeune
homme," he added, 1--WE meet again. "
Then he tainted, with the smile on
his lips. It is only in books that men
die different from what they have lived.
It did not take me long to look at this
gay youths wound, cutting away his
English made linen, slicing the cloth of
his rough uniform Of private soldier
of the Army Of the Seine--a mere band
Of volunteers despite their grand name.
I knew seminariste in it-not yet or
dained a priest-who fought bravely
through it, although he lacked the
strength to hold his rifle straight with.
out support.
! saw at once that the career OF
Jacques de Keroualles was nearly over.
Suddenly it all came back to me-
Fontainebleau and the happy, careless,
reckless life in the old town where the
very paving stones are saturated with
history and worn by the tread Of those
that made it. Jacques de Keroualles;
Tony, vicomte de Muy; Raoul de Kol-
les, and half a dozen others-harum
scarum fellows who made life one long
laugh.
How often had we shouted the one
line chorus in the Rue de France as the
slow morning crept up the sky behind
the palace!
rose from the wounded man g side
and went out to the veranda Of the villa
converted into temporary field hospi-
tall A cavalry officer in the gay blue
uniform of his immortal regiment, with
a short, fur trimmed cape thrown care
lessly back from the shoulder, stood
modify looking down over the vine-
yards. He turned at the sound Of my
footsteps and shook hands gravely. I
looked hard at him. 1t was Tony de
Muy-a grizzled, hard faced soldier.
"Well?" he asked. He looked into
my face sharply and made grimace.
"You need say nothing, see from
your face.
He threw away a half burnt cigarette
and resumed his attitude of gloomy re-
flectiveness. had known him young
man few years earlier, and glancing
at him wondered whether I looked as
middle aged as that.
1.-THE devil take all women!" he sud-
denly exclaimed with his absurd French
vivacity and stamped his spurred heel
on the tessellated pavement. "The
devil take all women, mon ami.
He will have as many as he can
manage" suggested, for was young
in those days, and the little wound ]
still carry had smart in it yet.
"You remember my sister," Tony
said CURLY, and / nodded. We had all
been in love with Mile. de Muy, and
she had managed in some way to keep
us all in hand at once. She was fresh
from convent, where, it seems, these
little arts must be acquired. The
bottle" that gave me my own hurt
was, by the way. learned there. So far
as Jacques de Keroualles had been con.
cerned, however, we had always known
that it was serious matter.
Before the war, /" Tony de Muy went
on, they were engaged. Then Jacques
Joined the army. What else could he
do? As for me, had always been in
II, as you know. 1t is for our country,
and Jacques was among the first It is
for our poor France that some Of US
fight for these Napoleons. "
He turned and looked into the dim
room where the cots were ranged in
ranks-head and foot-the length Of the
floor.
He thinks that she has kept her
word, " he said, and wondered how q
few years. service could have hardened
him. ~
aAnd?"
"And she is flancee 20 some italian
count-some scum Of Rome
doubtless wears high heeled boots and
paints his face, as have seen them"
In his heat be spoke too loudly, and
Jacques de Keroualles, lying in that
quiet room, recognized the voice, though
be could not possibly have distinguish
ed the words
lis that thou. Tony?', called ont the
CHEEKY voice from within. II was i'm
possible to realize that these were the
tones Of q dying man. ! have seen two
die Laughing, both Frenohmen.
Eyes" answered the man by my
side
We entered tho room together. Do
Keroualles smiled when be saw "a side
BY side, Tony de Muy towering above
me-
"Ah," he cried. ''it 10 like old
A