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iitiispv mence witli which his brother burst out into his story. He listened in as tonishment He had not dreamed that Philippe, too proud to ask as sistance from his father, had suffered miserable poverty that he was des perately in love with "a girl, and, see ing no hope of marriage, had chosen to accept the German offer of a sum of money sufficient to enable them to live comfortably. He had taken the desperate risk and was prepared to pay the penalty. "Take this letter and mail it to her," said Philippe, handing him the envelope. "It is my only request to you." Jean Janvier took the letter me chanically. His eye f elf on the super scripture. It was addressed to Ce leste Paquin. He did not reel or stagger, but stood looking at it gravely. And by degrees it was borne in on Jiim that the supreme chance which he had coveted had arrived. In one way only could he untangle the skein of fate, set Philippe free to marry the girl, pay the penalty for France, and gain that death which he coveted. He ex plained to Philippe. The latter grasped his hands im pulsively. "No, no, Jean. It is too great a sacrifice," he said. "It is only a fair return for what we have made you suffer," answered Jean. "You will exchange clothes with me, walk out of the hut and make your way to my quarters, which are doubtless known to you. My pass will get you to the Cahnay road, where you can doubtless rejoin your friends. One thing I ask of you, you will find an unfinished letter to my father in my quarters. Add a post script to the effect that you, Philippe Janvier, are returning home to take my place and say that I died fighting for France." And the thought of Celeste Paquin overcame Philippe's resolution. He flung his arms about his brother's neck and embraced him. Ten minutes later, with a last hand clasp and words of love, Jean Janvier, now dressed in the imitation uniform of his brother, conducted him to the door. He watched him walk past the sentry and then, sinking upon the ground, remained in a stupor for the remainder of the night. At dawn the court-martial con vened. Jean Janvier, very cool and collected, faced his brother officers. He saw the colonel's face turn gray, he heard his cries of incredu lity. "Gentlemen, spare your protesta tions," he said. "I am in the pay of Germany and I glory in dying for my adopted country." The colonel turned his haggard face upon those of his brother officers. "If he confesses there is no more to say," he said. Jean Janvier, stripped of his insig nia, was led out to face the Titles of a firing squad. Before the bullets found lodgment in his breast and brain he saw a vis ion of the years to come, Philippe at home with Celeste, his father, mourning for the son gloriously dead, yet happy in the return of the one who had so long been, lost to him. He knew Philippe would never tell Celeste, and would bear the secret to the grave. And in that he found the supreme chance he had coveted. They won dered afterward how a traitor could have faced death so calmly. God, who uncovers all secrets in his own good time, made soft the path to death that Jean Janvier trcd, o o TODAY'S TESTED RECIPE By Caroline Coe Baked Turnips. Pare turnips and cut in halves. Place in a baking dish and pour over enough milk to cover. Flavor with butter, pepper and salt, and bake until tender. Serve with a sauce made by heating a jtablespoon f ul of butter. When melted add a tea spoonful of dry mustard. Stir until smooth. tL5!iAi mi s-Bfei.