Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-08-28

pipe. !, =,
He will paint no more pictures, said
Varache. Mon Disnl how suffer! and
he breathed upon his shattered hand.
STEADY! Here they come again, cried
Baudemont.
The enemy was making a final dash for
the chateau. Guilard found third victim;
then the Corporal sank back with a pro-
found sigh, as if by that sound he expressed
gladness that for him the war was over and
that his eternal sleep was come.
Take that-and that-and that!
snarled the French Count as he leaned
right out of the window and emptied his
revolver into the troopers, who were smash
ing down door with the butt ends of their
carbines.
BE careful, my Captain; we cannot
spare you yet" pleaded Compardin. drag
ging the Hussar back; for the balls were
whining all around his head.
Il have settled two, at any rate, grunted
Baudemont, reloading His hands were
shaking like leaves; but all the same ne was
perfectly calm.
Cali in de Cheret. won't your" advised
the musician, taking up the Corporal's rifle
and making terrible grimace at the pain 1t
caused him.
go, Compardin," ordered the Captain,
land be quick about it,"
Compardin ran from the room, which
opened upon picture gallery from which
great stairway wound down to a square hail.
The hall reverberated to the smashing blows
that the Germans were delivering upon the
main door.
1--WE shall not see Compardin any more"
said Varache.
"You are wrong; for here they come"
answered the Count. by the fiends! It IS
timei"
A S the author, Marette, and Compardin
rushed up the stairs, the battered door
gave way, and eight Prussians, all that were
left, tumbled one over the other IN their
hurry to get to close quarters.
Nov avenge your master!" cried Va
rache, as he pressed the trigger OF the Cor
poral's chassepot. The foremost trooper
tottered back; but his command sent re-
volver bullet between the musicians eyes
Varache fell forward, sprawling on the
stairs.
wait! Waitl" howled the Hussar Cap
tain. "a little closer yet, my braves, until
they are round the bend of the staircase!
Now!"
The defenders sent their last volley
into the charging Prussians, 1t was
terrible discharge; for three men dropped
at it. Then Marette. shot through the
body, leaped over the balustrade in his
agony. -
Three to their four! We shall win!"
cried the French Count, showing his teeth,
his mustache bristling with fury.
De Cheret stopped to pick up Marette.s
chassepot. A bali passed the length Of his
backbone, and he pitched forward, turning
a somersault on the stairs.
The four remaining Germans rushed up,
bowling as if they were mad Compardin
sent bayonet through one, leaped at the
throat of the second. Won Eyrick passed his
saber through the vinegrowers body; but
Compardin's fingers, closed deep in his en-
emy's windpipe. frightened in his death
struggle A wave of darkness swept over
the Germans senses. He pitched down the
stairs and lay very still at the foot, with
those choking fingers still buried in his
throat.
"A long adieu, bon amir cried Baude-
mont, who found himself alone with two
enemies.
From that is no recovery" shouted the
German Count, and, thrusting his revolver
almost in the others face. he pressed the
trigger.
The revolver missed fire. At the same
moment the Hussar cut down the other
Prussian with terrible blow from his saber.
Exhausted by the effort, the steel dropped