Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1898-12-13
CHAPTER TX.

Ironically, indeed, did fate speed the
bullets there at Arras. The young hus'
band, adored aud adoring, died. The man
who prayed but for soldiers death, the
man whose hopeless ugliness forbade
him hope Of love and whose high hon
or would not let him tell the story OF
the wooing, be lived on.
And while De Guiche and Ragueneau
are carrying away the grief stricken
Roxsne, Cyrano turns to the enemy
The fight mad been growing fast and
furious. and the captain Of the cadets.
wounded. is forced to fall back on the
intrcnchments His discouraged com
pany follow him, when Cyrano. mount
ing the breastworks amid the hail Of
shot, seizes the lance TO which they had
tied Roxane's handkerchief aud shouts
"Cascons, Gascons! Never turn your
back - Tie retreating cadets rally
around Cyrano and the little white flag.
The Gascon pipes strike up, and even
the wounded try to crawl to the front.
Roxane's gLyly decorated carriage is
suddenly turned into a fortress, bristling
with arquebuses. and as the oyerwhelm-
ing Spanish forces swarm over the en-
bankments CyranO and his cadets meet
them, singing:
THE bold cadets Of Gascony.
OF Carbon OF Castel- Jaloux!
Brawling. swaggering boastfully.
The bold cadets
But amid the storm Of battle the song
dies away.
Roxane, widowed, went back to
Paris, but she was no more the pre-
cieuse" Roxane She sought the peace OF
the convent, not as nun. for she would
not 10 falsify the human love her heart
held for the lover killed at Arras, but
a boarder merely. There she could
brood upon her sorrow there live again
the brief hours she had lived with
Christian. She had no duties save TO
his memory. She cherished in her heart
all the words Of fire and honey dew
that once thrilled through her veins
Upon her bosom always lay the letter
they found upon him there at Arras-
the letter he had meant to send Roxane,
q blood stained, tear stained missive.
She was not unhappy in the still con-
vent and in the great park that sur
rounded it. At first De Guiche came Of
ten TO her, but the great nobleman grew
busier as years went by, and his calls
upon her were less frequent But Cy-
rano never failed her. Week after week,
year after year, the same hour OF the
same day brought him to her, still the
poet, the philosopher; still the warrior,
| lighting shams and wrongs with naked
blade and knowing not the uses OF di-
plomacy; always at heart the lover OF
Roxane, always in manner her faithful
friend aud always the light hearted jest
or Of the old days, ready for . prank o.
. joke.
The good sisters liked him more than
passing we'll. They liked the gossip Of
| the court with which he frightened
| Roxane's days. They liked, sweet souls,
his teasing Of their piety.
One quiet autumnal day 10 years aft
| or the day when the white scarf OF Dt
Guiche had babe the Spanish attack a'
| Arras. Roxane sat waiting for her friend
The leaves were falling. the chestnut
trees about the chapel were already
| golden tinted and the quiet sadness Of
autumn was in the air. Under the tree,
in the park of the Sisters Of the Holy
Gross, Roxane had been receiving some
what that afternoon. De Guiche had
called upon her-changed, bent witt
weight Of many hopor. LIE Bret hsf