Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1902-12-11
BOOK lII.-ARRIvINe.

He pitched forward. and was quicker
than Ensign shipp. l set him on my
knees. and the surgeon poured little
watered brandy down his throat.
Paul. 1 said to him.
stand back" ordered the surgeon, as
women followed their children, crowded
the room.
do you know him. Lazarre?" asked
Croghan.
IT'S Madame de Terriers child"
Not the baby / used to see at De
Chaumont's? What's he doing at Fort
Stephenson
The woman made up her bunk for Paul.
and / laid him in it. Each wanted to
take him to her care. The surgeon sent
them to the cook-house to brew messes
for him, and stripped the child, finding
bullet wound in his side. Probing
brought nothing out, and did not ask a
single question. The child should live.
There could be no thought of anything
else. While the surgeon dressed and BAN
daged that small hole like a sucked-in-
mouth / saw the boy sitting on sad
dle-bags behind me, his arms clipping my
waist, while we threaded bowers of horse
paths. had not known how wanted
boy TO sit behind mel No wonder pioneer
men were so confident and full of jokes;
they had children behind theml
He was burning with fever His eyes
swan I'm IL as he looked at me. He could
not eat when food was brought to him,
but begged for water, and the surgeon
allowed him what the woman considered
reckless quantities. Over stockades came
the August rustic of the forest. Morning
bird voices succeeded to the cannon's rev.
CREATIONS
The surgeon turned everybody out but
me, and looked in by times from his hos
pital of British wounded. wiped the
boys forehead and gave him his medicine,
tanning him all day long. He lay In
stupor, and the surgeon said he was go
ing comfortably, and would suffer attic.
Once IN awhile he turned up the corners
of his mouth and smiled at me, as II the
opiate gave him blessed sensations.
asked the surgeon what should do in the
night If he came out Of 1t and wanted to
talk.
Let him talk" said the doctor brief
~.
Unlike the night before, this was a
night of silence Everybody slept but
the sentinels and the men whose wounds
kept them awake, and was both a sem
tinel and a man whose wounds kept him
awake.
Pauls little hands were scratched; and
there was a stone bruise on the heel he
pushed from cover of the blankets. His
small body. compact Of so much manli-
no resemblance to his mother. 1t seemed
to me that she lay there for me to tend;
and the change was no more an astound-
ing miracle than the change Of baby to
boy.
1 had him all that night for my own.
putting every other thought out of mind
and absorbing his presence His forehead
and his face lost their burning heat with
the GOODNESS Of dawn, which blew our
shaded candle, flowing from miles of fra
grant oaks.
He awoke and looked all around the
cabin. L tried to put his opiate into his
mouth; but something restrained me. 1
held his hand to my cheek.
IT like you" he spoke out. Don't you
think my mother is pretty?"
said I thought his mother was the
most beautiful woman in the world. He
curled up his mouth corners and gave me
blue-eyed smile.
my father is not pretty. But he is
gentleman Of France"
Where are they, Paul7"
He turned a look at me without ans
wering.
Paul" 1 said brutally. "tell me where
your father and mother are
He was so far gone that my voice re-
called him. He simply knew me as a
voice and presence that he liked.
with poor old Ernestine.' he answer
ed.
"And where is poor old Ernestine?"
He began to shake as If struck with a
chill. I drew the blanket closer.
Paul, you must tell me-"
He shook his head. His mouth worked,
and his little breast burst into convul-
sions.
He shrieked and threw himself toward
me- my pretty little mother!"
I held him still in tight grip. my
darling-don't start your wound!''
I could have beaten myself but the sur
geon afterwards told me the child was
dying when he came into the fort. About
dawn, when mems lives sink to their low
est ebb with night. his sank away. I
soothed his head and kissed and quieted
him. Once he looked into space with
blurred eyes. and curled up his mouth
corners when am sure he no longer
saw me.
Thus swiftly ended Paul's unaccountable
appearance at the fort. 1t was like the
falling of slain bird out of the sky at
my feet. The women were tender with
his little body. They cried over him as
they washed him for burial. The children
went outside the stockade and brought
green boughs and August wild flowers,
bearing the early autumn colors of gold
and scarlet. With these they bedded the
child in his plain coffin, unafraid of his
waxen sleep.
Before Croghan went to report to his
general he asked me where we should
bury the little fellow.
I'm the fort. by the southern block
house." I answered. Let Fort Stephen
son be his monument. 1t will stand here
forever. The woods around 1t will be
trampled by proving savages, and later
on by prowling white men. Within. moth
ing will obliterate the place. Give a lit
tie fellow a bed here. who died between
two countries, and will never be a citizen
OF either"
'I don't want to make graveyard OF
the fort" said Croghan. But he looked
at Paul. bent low over him. and allowed
him 10 be buried near the southwest
uavo Vou catarYh9