The Lexington intelligencer. [volume] (Lexington, Mo.) 1901-1949, 1913-10-17

The man with ths basin made a
horrid grimace when he caught my
eye; his face was q curious golden
yellow, his eyes Jet black, and at first
l took him for a fever phantom.
Then my bewildered eyep fastened
on his scarlet fez, pulled down over
his left ear, the Aky-blue zouave
jacket, with It's br~ightye'low ara
besques, the canvas b1eeches, leggings
laced close over the thin shins and
ankles Of ar Arab. And l knew aim
for a soldier Of African rifemen, one
Of those brave children OF the desert
whom we called "Turcos,' and whose
faith in the greatness Of France had
never fsltered since the first blue bat
talon Of Africa was formed under the
eagles Of the First Empire.
Halo. Mustapha!" / said. family;
what are they doing TO me now?"
The Turco's golden-bronze visage re-
Taxed; he saluted me.
"MAcache sabir," he said; they
picked a bullet from your spine, my
Inspector"
An officer in the uniform Of a staR
surgeon came around tile table where
l was lying.
"A millimeter farther and that bull
let would have cracked your spine.
Remember that and keep of your
feet OufI The cannon are tuning
up!" as a terrible discharge shattered
the glass in the window panes- beside
me.
Where am l, doctor" / asked.
"Parbleu, in Morsbronl! Can't you
hear the orchestra, Eim-bam.ziml The
Prussians are playing their Wagner
music for us. Here, swallow this. How
do you feel nOw?"
SLEEPY. DID you say a day or two,
doctor?"
81 said a week or two-perhaps
longer. III look IN thia evening IL
I'm not up to my chin in amputations.
Take these every hour ii in pain. Go
to sleep, my SON."
AS lay there on my long, cushioned
chair, burning with that Unsuitable
thirst which, to thoroughly appreciate,
one must be wounded, the door opened
and a Turco soldier came into the
room and advanced toward me on tip
toe.
beckoned him, and the tall,
bronzed fellow came up, smiling, show
ing his snowy, pointed teeth under a
crisp beard.
Water, Mustapha," I motioned with
stiffened lips, and the good fellow I'M
slung his blue water-bottle and set it
to my burning mouth.
"Merci, non brave!" l said. MAY
you dwell in Paradise with Ali, the
fourth Caliph, the Lion of God!"
The Turco stared, muttered the TEX
Dir in a low voice, bent and kissed
my hands.
Were you once an officer Of our
African battalions?" he asked, in the
Arab tongue.
Sous hicier Of spahi cavalry" l
said, smiling. "And you are a Kabyle
mountaineer from Constantine, l see."
1T Is true as l recite the fatha,"
cried the great fellow, beaming on me.
The music of his long-forgotten
tongue refreshed me; old scenes and
memories Of the camp at Oran, the
never-to-be-forgotten cavalry with the
scarlet cloaks, rushed on me thick and
fast; incidents, trivial matters of the
bazaars, faces Of comrades dead, came
to me in flashes. MY eyes grew moist,
my throat swelled, l w%himpered:
Give me a drink, in Gods namei"
Again he held up the blue water
bottle. After a moment I said. Us it
a battle or a ~bousculade? But l need
not ask; the cannon tell me enough.
Are they storming the heights, Mus
tapha?"
"Macache comprendir," said the sol
der, dropping into patois. There is
much noise, but we Turcos are here in
Morsbronn, and we have seen nothing
but sparrows."
Are you detailed to look after me?"
He said he was, and l informed him
that l needed nobody; that It was
much more important for everybody
that he should rejoin his battalion in
the street below, where even now l
could hear the Algerian bugles blow.
Ing a silVery sonnerie-"Garde a
vous!"
81 am Salah Ben.Ahmed, a mara.
bout Of the Third Turcos," he said,
proudly. Have l my inspectors per.
mission to go?"
go, Salah Remained, the mara.
bout" said I, laughing.
The soldier stiffened to attention;
his bronzed hand few to his scarlet
fez, and, Salute! o my inspector!"
he cried, generously, and was gone at
a bound.
had been lying there motionless
for an hour, my head on my hand.
.sniveling, when there came a knock
at the door, and hastily buttoned my
bl%ood-stained shirt to the throat, threw
a tunic over my shoulders, and cried
Come inl"
A trick Of memory and perhaps oil
physical weakness had driven from
my mind all recollection of the Count.
ess de Vassart since l had come to my
senses under the surgeons probe. But
at the touch Of her fingers on the
door outside, l knew that it could be
nobody but my Countess.