Santa Fe daily New Mexican., 1897-11-22

thick as morning broke that one could
scarcely see yard in front of one. AT
length the fog lifted and Il pale, watery
looking sun shone out, disclosing to our
view the Germans strongly intrenched
position. Our orders were to support our
leading column. The bugles had just
sounded the advance when, without any
warming, three German squadrOns of
cavalry, led by an officer, made a sud
den furious descent on our loft flank.
Under cover of the fog they had crepf
up unnoticed close to our lines. Had not
the clouds lifted when they did we
should have been taken completely by
surprise
1t was an exciting moment as, quick
ly forming a square, we received them
with fixed bayonets. A breathless ten
minutes ensued as we fought desperate
ly for our lives.
I saw two of our officers fall mortal
ly wounded, but the enemy's leader
seemed to bear charmed life.
His repeated attacks made our men
waver. Seeing them beginning to fall
back filled me with sudden frenzy of
rage. Calling on my comrades to follow,
l tried to fight my way to his side, an
effort which brought a cruel smile to
his lips as he grimly awaited my attack.
But what was the meaning of that
sudden overwhelming feeling of terror:
Why did my bayonet fall from my
nerveless fingers? Those steely blue eyes
glaring into mine with such deadly hate
death once on the road to Longboyeau
and again in the Val de Grace ambu-
lance.
With howl I staggered back, only
to recover myself as saw that terrible
sword flash once again i'll the sunlight.
What mysterious power made Inc raise
my pistol and fire it full in his face God
only knows, but the act saved my life.
With hoarse cry he fell backward. At
the same moment his horse swerving,
caught me violent blow, which sent
me head over heels. On rising | rushed
to his side He was still alive The
sight Of those familiar features excited
afresh my superstitious fears. 1t is my
only excuse for what followed. I was
mad with terror. Selling my bayonet
with both hands, l plunged it with all
my force not once, but thrice, into his
quivering body.
In due time the campaign came to an
end The day before the signing of the
armistice-that fatal day for poor France
i was doing outpost duty when bugle
suddenly rang out, followed by the ap-
pearance of German trumpeter, ac
companied by all officer bearing a flag
of truce. As the latter advanced toward
me the same feelings of deadly fear
overpoWered me as had seized me ON IL
former occasion.
1t was he--my ghostly enemy-who
eight days ago had writhed in agony
under the repeated blows Of my bayonet.
As he came within speaking distance
my feeling Of terror changed to one Of
passive despair.
Beyond all doubt our enemies bore
charmed lives. Parbleu! What chance
had French bullets against such an i'll
vincible power?
On our exchanging salutes he cour-
teously begged in strong German ac-
cent that his presence might be made
kown to the senior officer in command
"a request l at once forwarded by an
orderly.
His attitude as he stood warming
himself by the campfire enabled me, un-
perceived, to have another good look at
my ghostly visitant. Ghostly he must
be, 1 said to myself tremblingly, for
had made no mistake 1t was the same
manly figure which on three different
occasions had seen extended i'll death.
Suddenly he looked up and our eyes
met.
''We may congratulate ourselves,
monsieur" he said slowly, ''that the
campaign has come to an end. Your
splendid resistance has cost my country
many lives. Out there''-and he point
ed to the distant plain-sfour brothers
took part in the struggle Of those four
am the sole survivor. Mrs. Brooke
Murray in New York Journal.