The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1898-06-27
CHAPTER Xxx.
LIE BoURGET.

III
AT daylight it Began to snow again
An hour later torrents of rain swept
the deserted streets of the village. The
roar of the wind awoke Hardwood. A
sickiy twilight stole through the
church where, rolled in his blanket, he
had slept under the altar among a
dozen drenched officers.
A cavalry bugler, swathed to the chin
in his dripping cloak, stood inside the
chancel. Swapping his shake chain with
numb fingers. He had flung his bugie
over the arm of the crucifiX, and now,
as his pinched, SICK face turned to the
sunken face on the cross, he paused,
hand outStretched. After a second S
silence ne crossed himself unlocked
the bugle, and setting it stiffiy to his
shrunken lips, blew the reveille. A
hundred shadowy forms stumbled UP
in the gloom. the vibrating shock of
steel filed the church. An artillery
officer. saber clashing on the stone floor
left the church on run, pulling on
his astrakhan jacket as he passed out
into the storm.
Hardwood stood up, aching in every
bone. He shock his blanket, opened his
dispatch pouch, counted the papers,
snapped back the lock and yawned.
An officer beside him began to shiver
and shake, a thin, lantern-jaw fell
low, yellow with jaundice, and covered
from cap to boot with half dry mud.
Somebody said: 60 to the hospital
The officer turned a ravaged face to
Hardwood and smiled.
Outside the church the infantry bu-
giles were sounding. Their thin, stri-
dent call set HaTewood's teeth on edge.
He rolled and strapped his blanket,
slung the dispatch pouch from shoulder
to hip. and tumbled out to the church
door, where dozen horses Stood heads
hanging dejectedly in the pouring rain.
a mounted hussar. with a lance in
stirrup boot. looked sullenly at Hare
cort is that?"
General Bellemare's." replied the
trooper.
rs he going to Paris?"
Yes. monsieur, in half an hour"
Hardwood looked down the dismal
street. The low stone houses, shabby
and deserted, doomed dark and misty
through the storm. Everywhere closed
shutters, closed doors, dismantled
street lamps, stark trees, rusty rail-
ings on balcony and porch. Every
where the downpour, fiercer when the
wind swept the rain spears. rank on
rank, against the house fronts. And
now, down the street, through the roar
ing wind and slanting sheets of rain,
marched a regiment-a spectral regi-
ment. shrouded, gaunt drummerS
ahead, lining the flooded pavement
from gutter to gutter, sloppy drums
vibrating like the death rattle of an
army It was the 12Sth of the line
the relief for the grand guard. After
it, one by one, rumbled four cannon
and a mitrailleuse, escorted by Mobiles
the Twelfth battalion of the Seine.
Tie hussar backed his charges onto
the sidewalk while the infantry were
passing. Hardwood leaned from the
church steps and touched him on the
shoulder.
'Will you deliver a letter in Paris for
me?" he asked.
The hussar nodded sulkily, and said:
Are you going to stay here with the
troops?''
Yes" replied Hardwood, sitting down
under the porch and beginning to write
on a pad with stump of red pencil.
''Then you'll not need an answer to
your letter." observed the hussar.
Hardwood raised his eyes.
Because" continued the trooper,
with an oath, that damned Trochu
won't send you any cannon, and you'll
all die like rats-that's why"
Hardwood thought moment, then
went on writing to Bourke.
1.-The sortie was no sortie after all.
Tt was a raid on LIE Bourget by Belle
mare. Trochu isn't inclined to back
him up, ard here We are, Wedged into
the German line, able to pierce them If
supported from Paris. but in bad mess
If Paris abandons US. Bellemare starts
for Paris in half an hour to urge per-
sonally the direction Of a supporting
column. If the Germans come at us
while he's gone, l don't know how it
will end.
I'm case Of accident you will find du-