Part 38 (2/2)

He started up, and shouted in a piercing voice: ”_Vive l'Empereur!_”

We trembled, we did not know why.

I reached out my hand to him, and rose; we embraced each other like brothers.

”Good-by, Father Moses,” said he, ”good-by for a long while.”

”You are going at once, then?”

”Yes!”

”You know, sergeant, that you will always have friends here. You will come and see us. If you need anything----”

”Yes, yes, I know it. You are true friends--excellent people!”

He shook my hand vehemently.

Then he took up his musket, and we were all following him, expressing our good wishes, when he turned, with tears in his eyes, and embraced my wife, saying:

”I must embrace you, too; there is no harm in it, is there, Madame Sorle?”

”Oh, no!” said she, ”you are one of the family, and I will embrace Zeffen for you!”

He went out at once, exclaiming in a hoa.r.s.e voice, ”Good-by! Farewell!”

I saw him go into his room at the end of the little pa.s.sage.

Twenty-five years of service, eight wounds, and no bread in his old age! My heart bled at the thought of it.

About a quarter of an hour after, the sergeant came down with his musket. Meeting Safel on the stairs, he said to him, ”Stay, that is for your father!”

It was the portrait of the landwehr's wife and children. Safel brought it to me at once. I took the poor devil's gift, and looked at it for a long time, very sadly; then I shut it up in the closet with the letter.

It was noon, and, as the gates were about to be opened, and abundance of provisions were to come, we sat down before a large piece of boiled beef, with a dish of potatoes, and opened a good bottle of wine.

We were still eating when we heard shouts in the street. Safel got up to look out.

”A wounded soldier that they are carrying to the hospital!” said he.

Then he exclaimed, ”It is our sergeant!”

A horrible thought ran through my mind. ”Keep still!” I said to Sorle, who was getting up, and I went down alone.

Four marine gunners were carrying the litter by on their shoulders; children were running behind.

At the first glance I recognized the sergeant; his face perfectly white and his breast covered with blood. He did not move. The poor fellow had gone from our house to the bastion behind the a.r.s.enal, to shoot himself through the heart.

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