The star-independent. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1904-1917, 1915-03-27


times. he did not know the words or
that they were of semi-religious, ex.
tremely sentimental character which
would have been difficult to translate
into French. He did not know that
they ran something like this:
Good keep you safe. my love,
| All through the night:
| Rest close in his enclrcling arms
Until the light.
And there was more of it He only
knew that there was pathos in the
tune which spoke to his warm heart ;
which caressed and captivated him
and which made him long deeply for a
happiness he thought it most unlikely
he would ever know.
| There had been many pictures added
! to his collection: Miss Redmond at
dinner Miss Julia Redmond--he knew
| hei first name now.-before the piano;
Miss Redmond in a smart coat walk
Ing with MIN down the alley while
| Pitchoune chased tlvine leaves ant an
partitions Of rabbits hither ana tnltner.
The Count de Sabron had always
dreaded just what happened to him.
He had fallen in love with a woman
beyond his reach, for he had no for
tune whatsoever, nothing but his cap
tains pay and his hard soldiers life.
a wanderers life and one which he
hesitated TO ask woman to share.
In spite OF the fact that Madame
dEsclignac was agreeable to him,
she was not cordial, and he understood
that she did not consider him parti
Tor her niece. Other guests, as well
as he, had shared her hospitality. He
had been jealous of them, though he
could not help seeing Miss Redmond s
preference for himself. Not that he
wanted to help it. He recalled that
she had really sung to him, decidedly
walked by his side when there had
been more than the quartette, and he
felt, in short, her sympathy.
"Pitchoune," he said to his compan-
ion. we are better off in Algiers. mon
vieux. The desert is the place for us.
We shall get rid of fancies there and
do some hard fighting one way or an
other"
Pitchoune, whose eyes had followed
the cat out of sight, sprang upon his
master and seemed quite ready for
the new departure.
Il shall at least have you," Sabron
said. 1T will be your first campaign.
We shall have some famous runs and
| shall introduce you to a camel and
make you acquainted with several
donkeys, not to speak of the historic
Arab steeds. You will see, my friend,
that there are other animals besides
yourself in creation"
telegram for mon capitaine."
Brunei came in with the blue envelope
which Sabron tore open.
You will take with you neither horses
nor dogs.
1t was an order from the minister of
war, just such one as was sent to
some half-dozen other young officers,
all OF whom, no doubt, felt more or
less discounted.
Sabron twisted the telegram, put it
In the fireplace and lighted his ciga-
rette with it, watching Pitchoune who.
finding himself comfortable corner
in the armchair, had settled down for
a nap.
so" nodded the young man aloud,
Il shall not even have Pitchoune."
He smoked, musing In the rigid dis
cipline of his soldiers life he was used
to obedience. His softened eyes, how
ever and his nervous fingers as they
pulled at his mustache, showed that
the command had touched him.
What shall l do with you, old fel-
low"
Although Sabron's voice was low,
the dog, whose head was down upon
his paws, turned his bright brown
eyes on his master with so much con-
fdence and affection that it completed
the work. Sabron walked across the
floor, smoking, the spurs on his heels
clanking, the light shining on his brill
liant boots and on his uniform. He
was a. splendid-looking man with race
and breeding. and he combined with
his masculine force the gentleness of
a woman
They want me to be lonely" he
thought. All that the chiefs consider
is the soldier-not the man-even the
companionship of my dog is denied
me- What do they think l am going
to do out there in the long eastern
evenings" He reflected. What does
the world expect an uncompanioned
wanderer to do?" There are many
things and the less thought about
them. the better
"A letter for Monsieur lie Capitaine."
Brunei returned with note which he
presented stiffiy, and Pitchoune, who
chose in his little brain to imagine
Brunet an intruder, sprang from the
chair like lightning, rushed at the
servant, seized the leg of his panta-
looms and began to worry them, growl-
ing, Brunei regarding him with adora-
tion. Sabron had not thought aloud
the last words of the telegram, which
he had used to light his cigarette.
Nor will 1t be necessary to take
a personal servant. The indigenes are
capable ordonnances.
AS he took the letter from Brunets
salver he said curtly:
Il am ordered to Algiers and shall