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mutineers, must, for thi honor, of
France, be" henceforth dead. "Yes,
Monsieur,'.' he continued, "and the ad
miralty consigns me to perdition, or,
what is worse, to Kalamazoo,' Florida
and Oshkosh, Winnipeg, those bar
barous cities of a barbarous nation.
But I shall not -survive. Tonight I
blow my brains out,, and when you
lay a flower secretly upon my grave,
you will weep a little and say, 'He
died, for France.' "
. "But you shall live for France,"
cried, M. Brouet. "Now, Monsieur
Lieutenant," he continued, "suppose
I give you back your rank and com
mandnay, suppose l have youpro-
moted to be a captain with a salary
sufficient to enable you to marry'
Mademoiselle Smeeth, the fair pro
duct of that barbarous nation across
the water. What then?"
"How?" muVmured the lieutenant,
looking forlornly upon his interroga
tor. "Iwill expound to you," replied
Monsieur Brouet. ''Now listen. Do
you know that the Clarion is a power
in France? That ministers tremble
when they unfold its p,ages each day
lest they find themselves pilloried
therein? Assuredly, the Clarion, mir
roring as it does the soul of "our fair
country, concentrating under the
burning glass of its scrutiny all the
essences of justices, fraternity, and
civilization, can give you your heart's
"Now, Monsieur, listen. Go home.
Tomorrow morning at 11 o'clock be
waiting in your parade uniform, out
side your residence. Then you will
see. what you will see."
He refused to offer any explanation
of this enigma, and the unfortunate
lieutenant, slightly cheered, but still
disconsolate, took himself homeward
as the clocks of the capital were
striking midnight. Then, remember
ing the Monsieur Brouet "was not ac
quainted with his change of address,
he packed his few possessions onpe
more and made his way to his rooms.
This time he let himself 'in with the
latchkey, which' had somehow" surviv
ed the various -vicissitudes of the past
In his rooms, as he had expected,
he found his valet, entertaining a
choice party of hack-drivers and but
lers around his card table. Seeing
his master, the man sprang to" "his
feet in terror,, his teeth chattering.
"Monsieur!" h"e.gasped.'I I though
you were1 dead!"
"So I perceive' replied the lieuten
ant' amiably. "Continue your game,
gentlemen." - t
"O, no, Monsieur I am ovejcome.
My heart my Amotions , are pro
foundly stirred. With your permis--..
"With my permfssiori you will con
tinue your game," answered Lieuten
ant Savard. "What is more, I shall
join you. It is essential that nobody
leaves this room till 6 o'clock, for, if
I understand my friend Brouet cor
rects there will be a scarehead in
the Clarion tomorrow morning, and it
must be a 'scoop.'""
That word he had learned from
Wilfred Smith, who had freqneltly re
galed him with interesting informa
tion concerning his experiences as an
American newspaper reporter injiis"
Lieutenant Savard sat down and
joined the party. They had a pleas
ant game till morning, when, having
cleaned out his guests, he bade them
adieu and turned in for a few-hours'
sleep. At 11 o'clock, fully dressed,
he awaited Monsieur Brouet.
And atTLl exactly-the editor rushed
into the room and embraced him ex
citedly, kissing each cheek in turn.
He wore a silk hat and evening dress,
and in his buttonhole was draped the,
red ribbon of the Legion of Honor.
In his hand he held ta copy hi the
"Listen! Listen!" he shrilled. "All
Paris talks of you. today. And 'no
paper but the Clarion had. the news.
" 'On behalf, of the glorious French
nation we present' to our readers,