The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1912-06-22

attention in front, another slipped in
at the side, shot out his dubbed rife
and knocked Pierre down with the
butt. At first they thought he was
dead; but he had a hard head, and he
soon came to. Then his case was
hopeless. He was handed over to the
military gendarmere, and told he
would be tried next day."
There could be only one end to
such a trial. Military law was sternly
executed in the army of the Loire, and
for his crime-armed resistance to
arrest and violence to a superior Off
cer-there was only one possible SEN
tence. He was tried next morning
He faced the firing party at sunrise
on the following day. His comrades,
formed in three sides of a hollow
square, looked on. There were none
from anywhere near here to tell of the
tragedy. Only his lieutenant knew his
story; and he brought priest to him,
and poor Pierre made a good end
death than he would have if he had
lived longer"
He wrote to his mother letter full
of regrets and protestations of affec-
ton; but he wrote in it that he was
condemned to die. So the cure burned
it, and only told her that he had sent
her message of devoted affection
before he died. He could add truly
that he died bravely; for Pierre faced
the levelled rifles unflinchingly. And
he could say, too, that he died for
France; for the example that mill
tary execution helped to rivet the
bonds of discipline. If the poor woman
had known all the truth, it would
have broken her heart.
Monsieur lie Baron gave her a pen
sion. Our good villagers, naturally
knowing nothing of the facts, worked
up legend. Pierre Gondal, they said,
had fallen bravely, fighting against a
! host of Prussians on the outpost line.
They insisted on putting up the monu-
ment in the church. The Baron de
Servigny modified the Inscription they
proposed, so as to keep within the
bounds of truth. Old Mere Gondal
comes there day after day. She is
past work now, and she dreams and
prays beside the little altar, waiting
till her day comes, and she will see
her son again; for we may hope it is
well with him."
The cure rose and invited me to
come with him and see the treasures
of his sacristy, some church plate cen
turtles old, saved by pious hands from
the pillage of the Revolution. AS we
left the sacristy Madame Gondal rose
from her place and followed us to the
porch of the church.
The cure greeted her kindly. She
looked up at him, smiling with pleas
ure.
Monsieur" she said, with a nod to
ward me, has been talking to me OF
my brave son. No doubt he has gone
to you, Monsieur lie Cure, to lear1
more details, and you have told him
more than | can tell of that brave
death. / can not tell it all as yor
would
YES" said the cure; I'VE have beer
talking about him, and our visitor here
has left me little present for you.
"Ah, he is kind, and I thank hin
from my heart!" said the old woman
He will remember my Pierre, and O
me also. I am old and poor; but
after all, it is something that l am the
mother of son who died for France.
l took her hand as wished he1
goodby. The cure stayed a momen
to give her the ten-franc piece l hat
handed him in the sacristy; then h
followed me. Looking back, saw
Madame Gondal bent over her sticl
hobbling back to her post in the vii
lage church. The level rays of tn
sun shone into the wide arch of thu
doorway, and from where l stood
had just glimpse of the tablet on thu
wall, glistening in the sunset light
-ADe Maria