The Birmingham age-herald., 1903-12-14

BY ANAToLE FRANCE.

1 reproaches that he deserved. I reassured
 my dairy-mald as well as l could and ask
 ed my garde- franchise not to tarry at any
 enticng resort after the review He 1 followed by dozen soldiers. He motion promised. and I wished him a pleasant journey. He did not go, however; on my expressing surprise at this, he said Be patient. l could not go under your gaze without contradicting all the laws 1 of oecultism. When you are asleep, it 1 will be easy for me to escape on a ray of moonlight as l am subtle. But there Is no hurry; l have an hour or two to spare 7 If you would like, I will tell you story
 of the olden time l know more than ! one
 Tell me one"
 | One hundred and four years ago this very day, was on table with about q dozen comrades exactly like myself. Many of Us were without head or feet: we were the remains of a box of soldiers pur- chased the year before at the Saint-Ger- man fair The apartment in which we were was hung with pale blue silk. A spinet. chairs with lyre-shaped backs. ! mahogany wrting-desk. white bed or namented with roses, all smiled with ten
 der grace. The lamp burned with a soft light and the flame in the fireplace seem i lo btdl iife WlilES III lne SHhupNS. Stdl- ed at the desk. in a robe de chambre. her slender neck bent under her heavy gold en tresses Julie took out the letters tha- lay in the drawers tied together with rib
 bons.
 Midnight sounded; it was the signal of the passage from one year to another. 1I93 was ended
 By turns, Julie looked nt the hicfering
 fire and at the letters. from which press ed flowers dropped. IL was hard for her to burn them. It must be done, for those letters, if found would send to the gull otine both the writer and the one who had received them. If she, alone. was
 concerned, she would not destroy them. so weary was she of struggling to pre- serve herself from the executioner. But she thought of the writer, prescribed and
 hunted. who was now in hiding in some i garret at the other end of Paris. One
 of those letters would reveal his hiding place and deliver him up to death.
 Emile. her little son, slept quietly in the adjoining chamber: the servants had retired to a room high up in the house ! The silence of a snowy night reigned out
 side. The frosty air made the flames burn up more briskly. Julie was going to
 burn the letters. but it was a task she could not hastily accomplish. She must read them over first
 She began al the oldest one. dated three years pack and lived enchanted hours over again. She read and reread the pages before giving them to the flames. How hard it was to destroy the lines so dear to her.
 My darling Julie, if l fall under the ax of the executioner if l. like Sidney. am to die for liberty, death itself, shall not be able to keep me from you. My spirit will return to your presence Often when you are meditatng in solitude, a light breath will fan your cheeks; know then that 1t is l and let your, heart be filled with tender joy"
 She read and unused The night waned. rale light shone through the curtains; it was. dawn. The servants had began their daily tasks She must finish hers. She fancied she heard voices; then all was silent. The snow had deadened the sound of footsteps, but someone had come and was outside Knocking.
 There was no time now to conceal the letters and close the desk. All that she could do. she did; she took the letters up in heap and tossed them under the cov- CT of the couch which was dragging on the floor Then she took up a book and threw herself into an easy chair.
 The president of the district entered,