The herald., 1895-03-05

ladies'; in short quite code OF military
honor for the use OF conquerors. With all
this he put In some general reflections on
politics and the conditions of the peace to
be imposed on the vanquished. With re-
gard to the latt r, l must say he was not
exacting:
9 The war indemnity and nothing else.
III Is no good to take provinces. Can one
turn Germany into FranceY
He dictated this with so firm voice,
and one felt So much sincerity in his
words, so much patriotic faith, that il
was impossible to listen to him unmoved.
Meanwhile the siege went on-not the
siege OF Berlin, alas We were at the
worst period of cold, of bombardment. OF
epidemic, of famine But, thanks to our
care, and the indefatigabls tenderness
serenity was never for moment dis
turbed. Up to the end was able to pro-
cure white bread and fresh meat for him,
but for him only. You could not imagine
anything more touching than those break
fasts Of the grandfather, so innocently
egotistic, sitting up in bed, fresh and
smiling, the napkin tied under his chin,
at his sida his granddaughter, pale from
her privations, guiding his hands, max
ing him drink, helping him to eat all
these good things. Then, revived by
the repast, in the comfort OF his warm
room, with the wintry wind shut out and
the snow eddying about the window, the
campaigns, and would relate to us that
disa. trous retre-t in Russia, where there
was nothing to eat but frozen biscuit and
horsefesh.
:" Can you understand that, little one?
We ate horsefiesh.
81 should think she did understand it.
For two months she had tasted nothing
else. AS convalescence approached our
task increased daily in difficulty. The
numbness of the Colonel's senses, as we'll
as Of his limbs, which had hitherto helped
us 80 much, was beginning to pass away
Once or twice already those terrible vol
leys at the Porte Maillot had made him
horse; we were obliged to invent a recent
victory of Bazaine's before Berlin, and
salvoes fired from the Invalides in honor
OF it. Another day (the Thursday of
Bulenval, ! think it was) his bed had
been pushed to the window, whence he
upon the Avenue de La Grande Armee.
What soldiers are those?" he asked,
and we could hear him grumbling beneath
teeth:
g Badly drilled, badly drilled
Nothing came of this but we under
stood that henceforth greater precautions
were necessary. Unfortunately we were
not careful enough,
lone evening | was met by the child in
much trouble.
g 1t is tomorrow they make their
entry she said
Gould the grandfathers' door have
been open? In thinking Of it since,
remember that all that evening his face
wore an ordinary expression. Probably
he had heard us; only we spoke of the
Russians and he thought of the French,
OF the triumphal entry he bad SO long ex-
pected-MacMahon descending the avenue
amidst flowers and flourish of trumpets,
his own son riding beside the Marshal,
and he himself ON his balcony, in full
colors and the eagles blackened by powder.
Poor Colonel Jouvel He no doubt inn
agined that we wished to prevent his as
sisting at the defle of our troops, lest the
emotion should prove too much for him,
and therefore took the care to say moth
ing to us; but the next day, just at the
time that the Prussian battalions cautious
~ entered the long road leading from the
Porte Maiolt to the Tuileries, the window
up there was softly opened and the Colonel
appeared on the balcony with his helmet,
his sword, all his long unused but glorious
apparel of Milhauds cuilassiers.
II often ask myself what supreme effort
OF will, what sudden impulse of fading
vitality, had placed him thus erect in
harness.
"All we know is that he was there,
at the railing, wondering to find
the wide avenues SILENT the shutters all
closed, Paris like a great lazaret, flags
everywhere, but strange ones, white with
red crosses, and no ono to meet our SOL
diers.
For moment he may have thought
himself mistaken.
But no! there, behind the Arc dc Tri-
omphe, there was a confused sound,
black line advancing in the growing day
light-then, then. little by little, the
spikes of the helmets glisten, the little
drums of jena begin to beat, and under
the Arc de PEtoile, accompanied by the
heavy. tramp of the troops, by the clatter
OF sabres, burst forth Schuberts tri-
umphal march.
''In the dead silence of the terrible
streets was heard a cry, terrible cry:
ITO arms Ito armsl-the Prussians!"
And the four Uhlans of the advance
guard might have seen up there, on the
balcony, tall old man stagger, wave his
arms and fall. This time Colonel Jouve
was dead"