LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 1091, 28 December 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

MY LAST FRANC. By Ada Ward. (Continued.) Day after day my life was the same—the only alteration that as the war went on things became worse. Some days I hardly touched a morsel of food. All we were allowed in the end was bread, and never sufficient of that. By this time I had only a few francs left, for whenever I had the opportunity I always bought some slight extra delicacy to share with my patients. But now there was hardly anything to buy. Nearly starving, I have walked miles in the hope of buying a few mouthfuls of vegetables or meat. One day I heard from one of the soldiers on guard that on the morrow there would be some provisions for sale at the Marche de la Madelaxne. I had only one franc and four sous left, and could evidently get little for that sum, but I thought I would try and buy something for my Prussian, who was so good and gentle, and suffered so patiently. I asked the doctor's pei'mission to go out, and he said, ' Yes ; but you must be back early.' So the next day I left Notre Dame at a quarter to six, and walked along as fast as my strength would allow me. I was now very thin and weak, Long nights of nursing and semistarvation had done their work. I often wonder now why I did not break down, for I have sometimes been two days with scarcely a mouthful to eat, and perhaps with only an hoar or two of sleep. But yet I did not feel tired nor ill—the excitement sustained me—and in the midst of those fearful scenes I was content. God, I believed, had placed me there to do certain work, and I must do it. Dear old Mrs Gibson, who was a true Englishwoman in the matter of grumbling, would often take offence at my cheerfulness. ' One would think you had all the money in the world in your pocket,' she would say. ' I wish I had,' I would reply; ' these poor fellows should have a fine cat each, and you—you, my dear, should have the biggest pussy in the market.' 'Ah, you're Irish,' she would retort, ' and you Irish girls go about in your own country with tubs of water on your heads, and no boots nor stockings to your feet. Haven't I seen it in pictures ? And that hardens your body and your hearts. Whereas poor me, I,' &c, <Sc. But to return to my story. I had arrived very near the market when I heard a great noise behind me. I turned and beheld a great mob coming down the street. The people were screaming, hooting, and yelling. There were soldiers on horseback who appeared to be driving these before them, and trampling down all who got in their way. I rushed into a doorway, where a rough, evil-looking man was lounging. The crowd surged by, and at that moment a shell burst not far off. It seemed to shake the whole city, and I never expected to get back alive. ' It is nothing,' said my companion, ' I suppose you belong to the hospital, Mam'selle ?' I thought whilst he was speaking that he had a wicked looking face. I replied by a question, ' Are you a Frenchman, if so, how comes it that you are not doing your share ?' He laughed and showed me the stump of his arm bound up in a dirty piece of rag. I pitied the poor man, and felt that I had done him an injustice. He told me that he had lost his hand whilst fighting early during the siege. I asked him if it was safe for me to go to the market now. He said, ' You will be crushed to death there. Such a crowd! It will be dangerous—there is not a woman there.' • But what can I do ?' I cried, ' after coming all this way I cannot go back without anything, and I feel myself almost sinking for want of food.' ' Let me go for you,' Mam'selle,' said he respectfully,' ' I have pleasure to serve you who wait on the brave soldiers of France.' I was delighted at his kindness, and thought ' how wicked of me to judge this good man harshly, because he has not a nice face,' and so I gave him my franc and begged him nob to bo long, but to buy me what he could. * Tres Men 1' said he, and disappeared in the crowd. I suppose I must have waited half an hour, but no signs of my ban ami. The moments seemed hours, and I began to grow very impatient. I waited and waited, and at last left my resting place and went towards the market. There was not the crowd or disorder which the soldier had told me cf. I made my way around very easily, and at last I saw my loyal friend, leaning smoking against a stall, and chatting with the proprietor. 1 crossed over and asked ' Where is the food you were to buy for me?' He said roughly, 'Who are you ? 1 know nothing of you.' I thought for a moment I must be mistaken ; but no, the sleeve of the blouse hung looseless over a handless arm. I said, ' Where is my money, my franc, it was the last I had in the world. Return it to me, or give me some food. I am fainting, I shall never have strength to return.' He was then, I think, a little bit ashamed, for he said, 'Jesuits tres faclie, but in truth I bought some tobicco with it. I have had none for such a long time.' 'How could you be so cruel and heartless,' I cried. 'Bah!' he sneered, 'I am only like others—each for himself in these times.'

My readers can never kuow what I then suffered. Shame and hunger overpowered me. 1 turned and left the market, and staggered along the street with mocking words, which would pollute these pages, still ringing in my ears. Suddenly everything seemed to go around, and I should have fallen senseless, but was caught by a man passing by. He held me in his arms for a little while, and then when I partly recovered he seated me on a doorstep, and said in a soft voice, ' pavvrettc, you are tired and worn out. I suppose by your dress you are a nurse. Where can I escort you to ?' ' You are an Englishman, Monsieur V asked I, judging by his accent. ' I call myself an American,' said he j ' and you V ' i am Irish.' '1 am particularly fond of Irish girls and Fenians; I hope you're a Fenian,' said he. 1 didn't know whether to be offended at this, so took a look at my friend. A young man, passably good looking, perhaps ten years older than mysef, with a dark bear', and hair curling on shoulders, and eyes which looked at you not rudely, but steadfastly as if watching everything. When 1 looked in his eyes J was not afraid, and I saw he was only joking to encourage me. ' 1 don't know much about Fenians,' I said, ' but papa had to leave Ireland in ''lß.' ' Splei;did,' h< cried, 'the daughter of an Irish rebel, an<. an American rebel fraternising in the streets of Taris, whiLt German William pounds at

the gate. Now, if there's a drop of the crathur left here, it will do you good to have a drink in honor of this event."' Tie produced a pocket flask, and poured out perhaps five drops of brandy, all there was, and made me drink it. ' Now, where do you want to go to, Mam'selle? Towards Notre Dame. All right—take my arm and come along.' I found myself almost without knowing it taken possession of by this stranger. ' But what are you doing here, Sir ?' I asked, 'Oh !I? Well, I'm a journalist, newspaper correspondent, and all that sort of thing. But I'm also a bit of conspirator. Leon Gambetta is my dear friend, and I'm having fine fun here.' Just then a shell fell in the street, twenty yards in front of us. My companion dragged me on the ground, and we lay there whilst the dust and stones flew around us. I was praying, whilst he was saying things in Spanish—swearing, lam afraid. He raised me up. ' I'm sorry to be so rude, Signoretta, but needs must you know.' ' Yes, I thank you very much, but there was no need for you to swear. I didn't know what you said, but it wasn't praying, I'm sure; and you ought to thank God for our escape,' said I. ' Pardon!' was the reply, and the words were bitterly said, ' God is not recognised in the Constitution. God ? Look at this work around us ! Shall we thank God whilst thousands die daily and we escape by a fluke. God ? Better call on Baal ; better .' I ran away from him ; his words horrified me; but he followed and caught my hand. ' I didn't wish to frighten you my child, nor to hurt your feeling 3. I would not say one word to interfere with your (belief. You are happy that you can believe.' (To he continued.)