The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1897-09-24

time, had often thought .'esretfully Ct
the honesty and sweetness of ban.
crcche. Gillet knew his :~ownspeople
looked upon him disaDpfovingiy for
remaining so quietly at home, instead
of going to fight for his country. ana
he determined to win, by n bcid
strike, their appreciation and gratitude.
So, taking a rife, he hid himself in the
bushes al the roadside in The forest,
and when the advance guard passed he
fired and killed one soldier. The re-
suit of the deed vas not long delayed.
Two hours afterward a Prussian bat.
talon occupied the village ami the in
habitants. men and women. were or
dered to assemble in the public square.
II fairly plain French the commandant
addressed them:
"One of you has shot n of our SOL
diers. | give you one hour to produce
the murderer. The village is SUP
rounded and no one can leave. II in an
hour the assassin is not in my hands I
will set fire to your village at its four
corners Now go home, and at the first
beat of the drum come back here"
The peasants turned away, asking
each other in frightened whispers who
had fired the shot. B%ancroche entered
the inn of Cog d'Argent, and as soon
as he saw the white, fearful face OF
Gillet he said, brusquely:
1T was you"
Gillet tried to answer, but Bancroche
interrupted him authoritatively:
Don't take the trouble to lie; it was
you"
Marietta and two or three others,
who heard his words, stopped in star
tied surprise.
What would they do to him if they
knew it?" asked one.
they do not know it they will burn the
village"
All were silent, terrified, except Gill
let, who cried. with chattering teeth:
In the name of pity, do not give me
up"
Wretch, would you have us all
burned?"
At this instant the drum sounded.
Listen" said Bancroche, rising;
listen a moment. You, Sylvan Gil
let, must not die, for you have a wife.
But neither must the village be burned.
l think l see a way. Stay where you
are. Gillet, and you others, swear to
keep silent. I will take care of the
rest" And they all departed, leaving
Gillet.
WHO is guilty." cried the officer, in
a terrible voice.
B%ancroche made a step forward and
said quietly, "It was l."
You" said the officer, "a cripple!"
THAT does not prevent my firing =
gun"
Your name?"
Simon Martin, but on account Of my
leg 1 am called B~ancroche."
You confess that you killed the SOL
der"
Yes"
do you know you will be shot?"
q do"
The commander could not but adj
mire the calmness of Bancroche's
speech. The crowd listened. breath
less, amazed that Bancroche, known
to be SO peaceable, could have fired
the shot, but glad, nevertheless, that
the village would be saved.
Eight men; behind the church,"
commanded the officer.
At this moment Marietta, forcing her
way through the crowd, ran toward the
officer crying, Stop! he lies! It was
not he"
What are you saying?"
Il tell you he is not guilty. 1t was
not he"
Hurry with the man." cried the Of
fcer.
Marietta escaped from the soldiers
who tried to hold her and threw her
self on her knees before the officer.
Monsieur. 1 pray you. do not kill
himi He is innocent! Do not kill
him! On. I beg you!"
What is he to you?" asked the Of
fcer. Your husband, your brother,
your father?"
He is Oh, in the name of God,
DO not kill him! love HIM"
The officer burst into a loud laugh.
Then kill me. too,'' cried Mariette.
But you have done nothing to de-
serve it."
She sprang UP with a bound and
standing before him struck him de-
liberately in the face. The soldiers ut
tered a cry Of rage.
Seize the woman. also." cried the
officer %furiously.
We will die together" said Marietta,
placing herself beside the cripple.
Come, Bancroche. I love you"
They were shot behind the church.
The soldiers dug a grave in the Gene
tary and buried them together. mar
ried in death. The village Of Saint
Georges was not burned.
Indian Women Who Farm.
IN the Indian village on the banks