Tombstone epitaph., 1915-03-28


 gust sun. they turned this way and that. and thrust at friends as often as at enemies.
 Through them went the twenty-one no, only eighteen by now-until they reached the flag. formed a new wall of steel around 1t, and began, step by step. to climb the hill, recovering the lost ground over the bodies of the slain. Up, up they went; back, back, back toward the shattered line of blue, their bayonets working savagely. the newcomers inflamed with the lust of battle, and those they had rescued thrilled with new hope and courage
 Up, then, to the very crest of the hill
 And suddenly a wave of cheering swept along the ragged line of blue. The -th had seen its flag go back and down; had thought it lost; had, never theless, fought on desperately. hope lessly-bcrne back by superior num- bers. But now-the flag!
 The cheer rippled and then roared along the line.
 An officer. seeing the nag, hearing the cheer. had one of those inspirations that sometimes come to men in such crises, that sometimes win battles when battles are already lost. He leaped in front of his wavering line. grabbed a rifle from the hands of dead soldier. helped a wounded bugler to his feet, and gave a sharp command. Over that bloody field, above the sounds of rife and cannon and shout. The line leaped to its feet. In the front, to the right, Duprez, forgetting everything but the lust for battle, fired with a new kind of fury, snatched the flag from the hands of the tottering boy. raised 1t high above his head and, followed by the eleven that were left of his twenty men-and many others and then the whole line went shrieking into the astonished ranks of the enemy. The clash was ferocious, unex. l pected, irresistible. The German line shrank before the steel. faltered and gave way. Bay | oneted in the back, clubbed, shot and l slashed at by the inspired demons in blue and red. the German soldiers gave way and fled. stopping only in the shel. ter of their guns and supporting cavalry.
 And when it was over, and the blue line halted breathless. exhausted, bleeding. with half it's number lying dead or wounded on the field. there came a curious kind of silence in a lit | tie group of men gathered around the flag. In the center of the group stood Duprez. with the flagstaff clutched to his breast. the tattered rag" floating softly above his head. | He was hatless
 A bayonet had torn a hole in his coat. Blood flowed from a scalp wound and reddened his pale face. He looked around him. and his eyes glowed with a fire that was different from that his comrades had seen be- fore. He smiled as he studied the faces of his small command.
 "Tillier," he called out.
 He has fallen," answered one of the twenty.
 | ''Duval,"
 | "Here!" came the reply from a few feet away. where a soldier lifted his head from the midst of a group of wounded and dead, the last to have | fallen.
 l "Martineau."
 "Here!" answered a sturdy voice as the man stepped forward. | The eyes of the two men met, and there was a moments pause.
 You were the last to be convinced. Martineau." said Duprez.
 But I am ready now-for the sacri. fice-for the great protest" the soldier | quietly replied. We have shown that we are no towards. Lead on! Let us throw down our guns again, and the flag, and march into the German lines singing our song of freedom the International
 For an instant Duprez regarded him strangely. Then his face lighted up; he straightened himself, clutched the tricolor tighter to his breast, and took two steps backward.
 Some day. Martineau-yes:" he | cried But now" | He reached his free hand into his | pocket, drew forth the ragged volume of his gospel of antimilitarism. of the brotherhood of man, and held it up at full arms length. A long time he regarded it. with a | spiritual struggle plainly reflected on his face. The book had been his guide, his comfort in times of trouble, a very Bible to his free-thinking mind, hold | ing promises of true freedom, of the peace that has never yet come to the world, but is to come. when the war drums throb no longer and the battle | flags are furled."
 There was regret and pain in his tortured. blood-stained visage-only | for a moment.
 Then a swift and dramatic trans formation. He had fought for his country. He was bleeding now for La Patrie. His eyes went up to the | flag Tapping above his head, and he | h.