The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1898-10-15


blue uniform. But his thoughts made
no attempt to plunge into that dark
gulf which separated the gay young
soldier from the threadbare, exiled old
professor. Years ago, by sheer force of
will, he had kept himself from think
ing of the incidents which had raised
that impenetrable barrier, lest II should
drive him mad, and gradually he had
almost ceased to need to make the eff
fort
So busy had he been with the vagares
of that bright young boy, who seemed
almost to belong to a dream world. that
he was at the red-curtained door of
Les Bon Amis" before he was aware
of it. shout of welcome hailed him
as IL swung to after him-la patronne
sitting behind the small counter greet
ed him cordially. His pale face bright
ened the familiar scene. even the
fumes of the kitchen which pervaded
the dining-room, seemed to bring him
new life.
He walked down between the tables
till he reached the one he particularly
patroniZed in a corner by the fire; the
waiter who had known him for years,
fastened to help him off with his coat.
He was assailed with questions: Why
had he deserted them? Where had he
been hiding himself all this time?
The blood leapt into his face as his
beloved language. spoken in another
tone than that of unwilling schoolboys,
struck upon his ear; and his heart was
warmed by the fattering consciousness
that he had been missed. lie began to
talk VolublY, to ask questions in his
turn: Where was So-and-sO? What did
they think of the situation in Madagas-
garland on and on I'm the new found
JOY of mixing once more with his own
COuntrymen.
The table d'hOtp was over and each
member of the small party had before
him his smoking cup of black coffee
"Cognac, Monsieur" asked the watt
er
For second the old French master
hesitated, but before he could complete
his rapid calculation some one struck
in: "Oui; c'est ma fote aujordhui."
Accordingly. after much protestation
and many gesticulations each MEM
Der of the small table near the fire was
served with a liquor glass of doubtful
brandy, digniied by the name of cog
nae.
His gray head leaning against the
wall, the smoke curling upwards from
his pipe, such unwonted luxuries as
black coffee and cognac at his elbow,
NJ. Alexandra felt so luXuriously happy
that the conversation of his compan-
ions could only reach him through a
sort of Il mist of comfort.
AT last some one addressed him di-
rectly:
Did you see that the General DuvaI
ig don, a h. ,1y 4, 4.
ness
ment
But why not NJ. Alexandra? Did
you know him, by any chanCe?"
Yes, | knew him"
The words fell almost sullenly from
his lips
NJ. Alexandra had always been a
mystery to the little colony of Les
Sons Amis." He was not a Commun-
list; no armistice touched him. politics
had no greater attraction for him than
for the majority of his countrymen: no
one knew why he was in exile, or
whether he had been all his life a
marchand de participes
But there was no questioning NJ.
Alexandra, and curiosity had never
been satisfied; even no one dare to
press the question further. Only. af-
ter a moments pause somebody said:
II remember something years ago
about General DuVars Wife. Wasn't
she q spy of the Germans?"
mo, no. broke i'm another. "She
was carried off by q German spy by
main force, and killed herself for
shame"
The man was going on, when a loud
harsh laugh from VI. Alexandra broke
in upon his speech. They all turned to
him. he had tossed off his Cognac, and
sat there, his face flushed his hands
trembling, and that laugh distorting
his feature. lie was another man.
Monsieur AloXandre!"
Annette kill herself for shame!-ha.
ha! ha"
"Annette?"
"Yes, Annette Duval. Listen. I will
tell you the story of the man whom
she killed. viii you listen?" He
leaned across the table: the words
came thick and fast, and his dark eyes
flashed Annette Duval-oh, she was
not pretty; she was far worse, as we
say-she was woman from the crown
of her head to the soles of her feet. St
Anthony could not have resisted her,
and she--Well, there was Iieuten-
ant in her husbands regiment, who
had the ill-luck to attract her atten-
tion; the poor devil thought Heaven
was opening to him when she smiled;
he would have put a bullet through
his head at any moment if she had
asked him. What she did ask him
was far worse
"One day she came to him. her eyes
red with weeping, Her husband was
growing suspicious, life was intoIera-
be-Why did he not take her away;
why could they not go away together
and be happy?
THE lieutenant trembled as she
clung to him, and he tried to point out
to her what that would mean. He
would be desertcr; they would be
shut out of France for ever. Could
she bear his dishonOr? But she would
not listen; if he loved her he would not
hesitate. What did anything matter
so they were together? She was sac
rihcing everything for him; would he
sacrifice nothing for her? And then at
last came the threat that if he would
not take her, she would kill herself,
There is no defence for the man.
With the woman he loved in his arms,
her tears upon his cheek her lips whis-
pering passionatcly in his ears, he
should have held fast to hts honor, and
been strong; bUt-he promised"
NJ, AleXandre stopped a moment, and
moistened his lips with the cognac with
which his glass had silently been re-
filled; the others listened breathlessly
to the prologue of the drama whose
L., -