Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1921-05-18
THE. SPY
BY ETHEL N. GADDAs.

4 es9eSeassaesssessasss$s$ss2ssseeeee0
So s1ssL by Mcclure Newspaper synddicate:)
# was in English, the. strange ad-
dress, in its sprawling, boyish hand
writing. The finest French, however,
would have been as unintelliglble to
poor old Nanette. It was the village.
cure, himself white-hafred and bowed
by the burdens Of war, who read the
closely written pages. French this, in
a woman's fine hand, and blotted here
and there as if by a Woman's. tears.
ITO the old STOPPED woman who
lives in, the tiny cottage under the hill,
in what was lie .Bois des Oiseaux."
THAT is because he did not know
her name," interposed the priest, and
the gray head nodded, though wonder
ingly. l.
1T is many days since I left you,
stole away in the night like man
ashamed. What. could you have
thought? I shall never know. Per-'
.haps YOU expected only in'.ratitude,
Sinking silence, from such as I. Yet
I thought T saw
i. Il am very weak. That last night
Slapped my small strength, and then
the fever gripped me. But my mind
is quite clear.
Il can see you now, the compassion
In your kind eyes as you stopped over
the wounded lad fallen at your door
compassion that changed involuntari-
" to aversion, to hatred, as you saw
the too-familiar gray of the German
field uniform.
you would have turned away-1
knew it-bpt you could not. Some
thing held you. Was it the thought
Of boy in the horizon blue? Or was
it the utter helplessness of the young
stranger, that touched your mother
heart? No tears of pity softened your
eyes, yet felt your knotted hands
fumbling at my stained coat, dragging
my weight over the low doorsill %.
"Then I was lying in bed, such a
bed. as my weary body had not known
for months. I was clean, too, and ly-
ing between clean sheets, the numbing
pain somehow softened. Someone bent
over me, offering food. Your touch
was gentle; you no longer shrank
from me.
"'Again\ wakened. 1t was night,
the moonlight streaming in through
the tiny window. You were kneeling
on the earthen floor, talking with your
God.
''The1 1 saw anew this awful con-
f1ict, in its power to scar a woman's
heart. For you spoke Of loved ones
gone-two sons with the colors, Offer
ing their lives daily for France; the
husband Of your youth, lying beneath
wooden cross, daughters purity
violated by the invader; the child,
your last, slain before your very eyes.
All, how we'll you knew the bitterness
of war!
"Yet you could pray. Kneeling there,
crushed and alone in your old age,
amid the ruins of all you had cher
ished, you prayed for me. Enemy
though he was you asked Gods bless
ing upon the wounded lad you had
taken in
"You slept, that night, upon the
hard floor. And I also slept, in spite
of my pain, for your words had
brought me strange peace.
"For two days and nights 1 lay pas
sive, gaining strength to complete my
mission. Patiently I was cared for,
and tenderly, and marvelled at the
miracle Of your love.
"FOr how could you know that it
was for France, the France Of my ia.
theirs, that had fought, for her that
had risked life and honor? And how,
indeed, could you know of the bitter.
ness Of soul, the cruel disillusionment
and loss of faith, that had driven me
to this unhonored task?
II could not speak. Even when, dis.
carding the lying uniform that could
no longer serve me, slipped away in
the stolen smock of your dead hus.
band, could leave no word.
"Now at last I may speak. for my
work is done and rest.
"What may come I know not, but
this I know: My spirit that was
crushed is whole again. You saved q
life, 0 mother Of France, but you did
more than that-you gave back faith
to soul that was dead. That is why
as wait here, I have no fear. Surely
the God who has comforted your hear,
will not forget me.
'Now it is evening, and am weary.
But in my heart is a peace that will
never leave me. Goodnight, dear
mother, and may the good God bless
you for what you have DONE"
= - 4
The postscript was short, scrubbed
by tired nurse in a pause between
duties.
':He is gone, dear mother" read thu
old cure, while Nanette listened and
wept softly, shut his smile is won
drous sweet as he sleeps. France viii
not hear his name, for the work OF. 6
spy is In silence and shame. Yor
may never know how great tasl
your mercy has helped to accomplish
But God will know. Pray for him
| mother, pray for France, pray for the
/ u - q