Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1914-08-27
ARbndlG ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
TIE MARSHAL
ByMary Raymond Shipman Andrews
A@1N0' The Perfect TZDuze. etc
CHAPTER xxvIII-(continued).
Copyright, The BobbsMerrm cou,srs.

CHAPTER overwhelmingly.
Francois stood regarding her, with
rank admiration in every muscle OF
his face. He smiled, the same gentle
amused smile with which he had ad-
dressed the portrait. you never talk
too much for me, Mademoiselle. 1t is
a pleasure to me always to hear your
voice." he answered in the deep m
Of a Frenchman, the tone that has ever
a half not of tragedy, as of some race
memory which centuries do not wipe
out. only" he went on speaking in
French, o must not talk English,
That is breaking the law, you remem-
Der, Mademoiselle.'
She answered very prettily in his
own tongue, in words that halted a
little. Very we'll, Monsieur. 1 will do
my best" He still gazed at her smiling,
without speaking. One could UNDER
stand that, to a girl OF, more self-con-
tanned people, this open homage of
manner, this affectionate g%entleness,
might seem to mean more than a
brotherly loyalty. The girls pulse wa
beating fast as she made an effort for
conversation. What were. you think
ing of as you looked at the fire when
came ia, Monsieur? 1t had On air
OF being somsthing pleasant. Did / not
say all that beautifully" she finished
In English.
d kdlIlS N6rD WlLl
serious accuracy and sfe repeated the
word. and laughed happily.
But you havent's. said yet what you
Were thinking about"
The large brown eyes turned on
hers. IT was. of my old home in
France, Mademoiselle, when | was very
little" he said simply. "a large fire
of logs makes me think of that"
Tell me about it," she begged with
quick interest. will you? Was there
always a fire at your house?"
"But no., Observation-Disclosures, of
course, in the summer. 1t was Of the
winter time | thought, when the
n%eighbors came. in the evening, and
we sat about the hearth, sometimes 20
people, each at his different duty, and
my brothers and sisters We're there, and
the dear grand-mere was there and"
he stopped. Does Mademoiselle really
wish to hear how it was in that old
farmhouse of ours, in the SHADOW Of
the Jura mountains?"
Indeed. Mademoiselle wishes it," she
assured him. 1T will be a trip to
Europe. ! am sure l shall speak bet
ter French for going to France for 10
minutes, and being among the French
people, your friends Wait now. till 1
am comfortable" She turned a deep
chalr so that it faced him, and dropped
into 1T. put a footstool for me-" she
D-NN 49, S~S5 ~ WOltICII oIStI lIlG
men they care for-and the men they
do not. And she settled back with her.
little feet on 1t M smiled at him. For
q moment the mans brilliant gaze
! rested on her and the girl saw it and
thrllled to 1t. Nov, monsieur, racon-
tez-moi n historic she spoke softly.
Francois Beaupre's look turned from
her to the fire, and the air of gazing
at something far away came again. 1T
IS a picture | see as I think of that
time of my childhood" he began, as if
speaking to himself. "A picture many
times painted in home-like colors on
my brain. Many a night in the winter
have sat. a little boy, by the side of
my grandmother, at that great hearth,
. and have looked and have seen all the
faces, harve5 heard all the voices and
the fire cracking. and the spinning
wheel Whirring. even as l see them and
hear them tonight. / was always close
by the grandmere, for I was the dear
est of the children to her. Sometimes
long after my bed time I sat there, but
very quietly, for fear that my mother
might remember and send me to bed:
| yet she liked to please the grandmere, so
I stayed often longer than the others.
corner was the hearth which was
raised hk a throne. mademoiselle.
from the floor, - feet wide. One burned
logs six feet long within it. and from
up the chimney swung the cremaillere
the chains from which were hung the
kettles. IT was the house of a peasant,
'mademoiselle knows, yet it was the
best house in the village. Often, of a
November night, the neighbors would
come IN, perhaps a dozen, perhaps
more. and the young men had their
Work--they arranged the flax for spin
ning. 1T might be-and the young girls
prepared apples to dry, and the moth
ers' knitting needles flashed back and
forth on the stockings for our winter
wear, and the ~grandmere would be
spinning linen threads for our clothing
-whirr, whirr-I can hear the low
sound of her wheel. And always I,
Francois, would be on the stool at her
side, watching n listening. For my
father was a great reeonteur. and he
told stories of the war and of the leg
ends OF that country. 1t was ar an
cient country you must know, made
moiselle, and the name of our village
itsef was from the Romans. Vicques
mademoiselle. comes from the Latin
word vicus, a village. So that there
were old castles In ruin in those parts
and tales Of buried treasure. and
ghosts in armor guarding it, and great
DOGS that breathed flame. and other
a little boy. On the cold nights, as
the fire roared up the chimney and the
grandmothers' wheel whirred softly.
my father and the other men told these
tales, n / listened, quiet as a mouse
In my corner. mi from time to time
/ saw g young man lean over and
whisper in the ear OF one Of the girls,
and L wondered why her face became
lred as the freight.
And from time to time one OF the
men, as he talked. rose up and strobe
across the room to the great oak table
! where. lay always on q wooden plate
q long Sloaf Of black bread. with q knife,
and always a glass and q bottle Of eau
de-vie-brandy. And ! remember how
manly 1t looked to me. watching, when
I saw him take the loaf under his arm
and hold 1t, and slice of boldly q great
apiece Of h fresh rye bread, and pour
out a glass Of brandy and toss 1t or
as he ate the bread. The stories
seemed 10 grow better after the teller
had done that.
And always i waited. even through
the tale OF the ghost and the IRE.
lhreathing hound. till the talk should
3swfng round, aS;lt did ever toward the
end, 10 the stpriea OF Napoleon that
were fresh Id MdndS IN those
tdayS. II was asStf 4 sat on needles ben
tfore my bedtime came, yet I did not
dare to 81 Rsreatleeg and moy about for
feaar thAts ny !notesr might send me