The Pulaskian., 1916-10-20

tion. The legionary unfastened his tunic and drew out something, which he laid quietly on the table beside her. ''Then this belongs to you," he said simply.
 Mechanically. she took up the little locket and opened it. Inside was the thing she knew that she would find, her own miniature-a valueless. anna teurish effort done in her schoolgirl years for her adored eomrade
 q knew him as Philip Grey, years ago-when he was dying"
 ''Then-he is deadY'
 He made a grave pitying movement of assent.
 He was my friend, madame. He belonged to my company. He wac not strong, and one day out in the desert he gave way. He went mad, think mad with exhaustion and thirst Fe disobeyed orders, and they gave him 2 double burden. He broke down, and they left him out therein the desert" :"
 How long ago?"
 "As I have said-nearly two years It was Colonel Destinn's great forced march south-one hundred and fifty kilometers in three days. Many of us died on the road"
 She laughed suddenly. She had the odd feeling that there was a third per > son in the room--a black faceless shadow that had laughed with her. She had to make a great effort to regain her composure.
 s'Yes-and thenY
 "Afterward they allowed me to go back and fetch his body. did not know his real name, but he had given me the locket, and it occurred to me that if ever his people knew they would be glad that he had not been left out there-alone He lies in the Legion's cemetery-Philip Grey, No. 3112."
 'Yes-I remember-thank you''
 She did not see him go. She dressed quickly and went out into the court yard. A voice called her by name with monotonous persistency, but she didn't hear it. There was a woman with flowers to sell standing hesitantly in the passage. but she did not see her. She had grown deaf and blind to the present She was looking back along the road she had come, and she saw the fate she had invoked stalking in- visible beside her.
 Sylvia! Sylviav'
 The tlower-girl still stood in the shadowy passage. Imperturbably, with inscrutable eyes, she watched Sylvia Arnaud's figure stand out for a mo- ment against the sunlit avenue and disappear.
 "Sylviav'
 Philip Grey, No. SIP, Legion Etrangere'
 Sylvia knelt, with elasped hands, and gazed at the roughly-cut letters. Around her and above her sea of crosses lifted up their gaunt black arms-hundreds upon hundreds, in the voiceless identical supplication of for gotten things. She prayed softly. She did not cry. She felt herself surround ed with a peace that was above tears. Little by little the flood was flowing back on it's old course She was think ing what she should say to Destinn when he came to claim her. She would rise up and point to this piteous un- tended mound. "This lies between us," she would say to him. She would not curse him. In expiation she would claim Richard Farquhar's life. She would go back to her husband; she would take up the broken threads and weave them to the perfect pattern. She would carry with her the memory of that brief glimpse of her own soul, of her own love. The dead are not iD vain-it was beautiful thought
 Steps sounded on the gravel path way. She looked up, but it was not Destinn who came toward her. 1t was the fower-seller, her basket crowded with fresh blossoms.
 Roses, madame? Roses to offer to the dear dead?"
 "Ah, yes, thank you. Give me all that you have"
 She covered the low mound with gors geous red and gold. The beauty of 1t of this chance-lifted her grief on soft wings to a gentle, almost happy resignation. She said, smilingly, "E shall come every day, and every day you must bring me all your fiowers.~
 She wondered what 1t was-what had come over her. Something had happened. There had been sharp insignificant little pain between her shoulders-a mere nothing. She caught her breath; it hurt her, and she turned slowly, her eyes wide open with q childish amazement.
 What has happened?"
 The woman opposite her said noth. ing. Her face, through the rising mist, was blank, unreadable. Sylvia put her fingers to her lips-she did not know why she had done so; she saw now | fhof fboro xuoc blood ax, har fin poaro