The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1900-10-05
THE LITTLE
NADEMOISELLE.
A SAD END TO AN
AFFAIR OF LOVE.

nus IL Is that Nine. de GOuYille, the
wife of Captain Roger de Gouville, told
me what she knew of little Lieutenant
Yves Barnabe de Pelven, whose chum
l had been at st. Cyr and whom l had
never seen after we left the college.
1t was in 1871. Our regiment was
then at the village of F., a few
miles from the provisional frontier
The town lay in the midst of d forest
and had been partly destroyed during
the war. We lived in wooden barracks
that had been built by the Germans.
Not far away was the line of black
and white posts that marked the pro-
yisional frontier, and it was one Of our
pastimes to ride out to them. The
young officers dreamed of nothing but
the chance Of provoking frontier con-
f1ict. Some made targets of the point
ed helmets found and brought in by
the peasants, arranging matters so as
to be seen by the German sentinels
others galloped wildly across the line
and back again.
One of them, however, Yves de Pei
ven de Kerdec, took no share in these
pleasantries. When he was asked to
join in, he would shrug his shoulders
softly and murmur, "Childishnessw
He was left to do as he pleased. No
one cared. Only after awhile we dis
covered that he was accustomed to
take long solitary rides at night and in
direction that did not lead to France!
We began to watch him more from Gu
riosity than from suspicion. 1 my
self, | confess, was drawn toward him
by this original and mysterious mode
of existence
He was then slight, blond, pale
youth, feminine of features, all nerve
and muscle, tireless, fearless, silent
He was liked by the men, although
they were Il trifle jealous of that indie
Enable superiority which marked his
breeding. Some of the old veterans of
swarthy skin and voice loved him in
spite of his refinement. They called
him mile. de Pelven," or 'the little
mademoiselle.'
With five years of service to his cred
it he had still the air of a young con-
script, His voice was gentle. l never
heard him yell or curse the men or
horses. At 10 he had received a deco
ration for distinguished bravery at Re
zonville.
He had his lodgings outside of town
in a solitary cottage, surrounded by
rosebushes and cedars - he and his
dogs Finaud and Tigresse, a great
Dane and little striped bulldog. His
horses were two long, slender Anglo
Arabs.
We gossiped not a little about the
lieutenant, his mode of life and his
character; we discussed his fortune
and the employment of his time out
side of the service, for, besides his reg
ular appearance twice Il day at mess,
he took part in none of our entertain
ments. He was often seen alone, gal
Looping his horses over the green mead
ows of the SaOne. He rode in some Of
the impromptu races, winning often,
but without pride, without eXultation,
taking the things as part of the trade.
He never touched cards. His horses,
his dogs. seemed his sole distraction.
At times he disappeared for a week or
so and on returning would say, My
father was down to see me-" 1t was
known that he had a father, an old
man living in Bretagne. Yves spoke
of him only on those days,
The self isolation of the boy was
somewhat Of a mystery to us. Each
one explained in his own way the sin
gular comrade, the little mademoi-
selle" For some Pelven was the son
Of a Galician princess and a Knight of
Malta. which was not impossible, it
being the usage since the days of Lou
is XIV to accord that title to French
gentlemen having contracted a marital
alliance in Austria. In fact, Austrian
decorations had been seen in his room.
That, at least, was affirmed by some
of the iudiscreet ones who had pene-
tTated the great chamber where he was
wont to dig" on his strategy during
the warm hours of day. a singular
room it was-at once salon, library and
saddleiy. the refuge Of a thinker and
the handy shop Of a soldier but its in
terror, in spite Of the weapons, was
rather feminine. and this struck the in
ferior officers who were accustomed to
visit it with their reports. There were
always fresh flowers Din his room, and
one day, when some inquisitive spirit
explored the pockets Of his "dolman,"
which he had cast off during a fencing
bout, they discovered a golden locket
on which sparkled a strange little dia-
mond wing They did not succeed in
opening it.
''He is a sentlmentaIist" CommaD-
dant St. Perle would say, "and the
proof is that when one passes his cot.
tage IN the evening one hears him
playing the adagio Of Beethoyen's
sonata in A fiat, the sonata Of monks
and priests"
One morning my husband, the cap
tain, came in very much worried. l
questioned him No answer. He drove
away in his phaeton as soon as break
fast was over with several other Off
GERS. He returned at o'clock alone,
having left the others at the club. Aft
er dinner be held a conference with the
fencing master and the chief armorer;
then st. Perle. his friend, came and
called him below his window. l heard
him order the landau with the big
Ean-horses for o'clock in the MORN
ing. "Ah," said l to myself, "a duel!
And | suppose that they will fight e.