The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1904-11-16
The Lie Tony Told

into my little field hospital amid
the luxuriant vineyards of Marty
eur-Seine, only few miles from the
edge of the great forest, he recogniz-
ed me at oace. 1t was early morn
ing. Indeed The dawn had scarce
come, and the river below us was
pearly gray in the growing light, as
rivers are before sunrise.
'DAnglaisi" he cried joyously,
for De Keroualles was merry soul.
He raised his blood stained hand in
a gay salute. I make no doubt he
had fought bravely and in manner
worthy of the old blood in his veins.
he was wet through and covered
with dirt. The battle had taken
place on the previous afternoon, and
the wounded were consequently al
lowed to lie out on the fields the
whole night. ole petit jeune
homme," he added, "we meet
again"
Then he tainted, with a smile on
his lips. It is only in books that
men die different from what they
nave lived. It did not take me long
to look at this gay youths wound,
cutting away his English made lin
en-, slicing the cloth of his rough
uniform of private soldier of the
Army Of the Seine-a mere band of
volunteers despite their grand name.
4 knew seminariste in it-not yet
ordained a priest-who fought
bravely through it, although he
lacked the strength TO hold his rifle
straight without support.
I saw at once that the career of
Jacques de Keroualles was nearly
over.
Suddenly it all came back to me
Fontainebleau and the happy, care
less, reckless life in the old town
where the very paving stones are
saturated with history and worn by
the tread of those that made it.
Jacques de Keroualles; Tony,
Wicomte de Muy; Raoul de ,Kolles,
and half a dozen others-harum
.scarum fellows who made life one
Dong laugh.
How often had we shouted the
one line chorus in the Rue de
France as the slow morning crept
up the sky behind the palace!
I rose from the wounded mans
side and went out 20 the veranda of
the villa, converted into temporary
field hospital. A cavalry officer in
the gay blue uniform Of his i'm
mortal regiment, with a short, fur
trimmed cape thrown carelessly
back from the shoulder, stood mood
lily looking down over the vineyards.
He turned at the sound of my foot
steps and shook hands gravely. I
looked hard at him. 1t was Tony
de Muy-a grizzled, hard faced sol
dier.
"Wel?" he asked. He looked into
my face sharply and made a gri-
mace.
seYou need say nothing. I see
from your face"
He threw away half burned ciga-
Fette and resumed his attitude of
gloomy reflectiveness. I had known
him g young man q few years ear
aier and, glancing at him, wondered
whether I looked as middle aged as
that.
E"The devil take all womenW he
suddenly exclaimed with his absurd
Trench vivacity and stamped his
spurred heel on the tessellated pave
ment. t'The devil take all women,
mon amiW
esHe will have as many as he can
manage" I suggested, for I was
young in those days, and the little
wound still carry had a smart in
it yet.
1sYou remember my sister," To-
my said curtly, and l nodded. We
had all been in love with Mile. de
Muy, and she had managed in some
way to keep us all in hand at once,
she was fresh from a convent,
where, it seems, these little arts
must be acquired. The ''botte" that
gave me my own hurt was, by the
way, learned there. So far as Jacques
,ide Keroualles had been concerned,
however, we had always known that
it was a serious matter.
{: tBefore the war;" Tony de Muy
went on, S'they were engaged. Then
Jacques joined the army. What else
could he do? AS for me, I had al
ways been in it, as you know, It is
flor our country, and Jacques was
among the first. It is for our poor
Rrance that some Of us fight for
these N Napoleons."
/ He turned and looked into the
dim room where the cots were rang
led in ranks-head and foot--the
length Of the floor.
! Gle thinks that she has kept her
wcrd," he said. and I wondered how
Ia Fan, y,oors, roorv;on nnul1 haun narH.