Pictures and the Picturegoer (October 1915 - March 1916)

C KNDINC Nm . [3, 1915 Pit": and n IE PICTUREGOta out A 11 \.\!> WIT vki ID, KF.I.T KoK Till: 1. >>•;>. UfD BSL1 1 1:11 IT, all. paced her room in terror. The officer knocked, and, receiving no reply, demanded admittance. Barricading the door with furniture, she waited in an agony of suspense. Suddenly a panel of the door gave way ; a hand appeared, felt for the lock, and released it. Swooning, she fell heavily to the floor. * ». * ■ Long, weary months afterwards a little nameless son was horn to the girl. But the Angel of Death took mercy on her poor tortured spirit, and closed the sweet mother eyes in a long, peaceful sleep that knew neither sorrow nor suffering. Part Two. After forty years more of civilisation Prussia had once again taken up her arms to lay waste peaceful lands. It was July, 191 1. Standing before the portrait of his mother, whose unhappy fate at the hands of a Prussian had brought him into the world, the war-child of 1870, now an officer in the French Army, felt all the passion in his soul rise in one great resolution to avenge the tragedy of his birth. •' If my life and strength can be put to some small use in this war against brutality and barbarism, then, ma petite mere, you will not have suffered in vain." With a sad smile at the sweet face he raised his hand in salute. As his wife knelt down to buckle on his sword ho reiterated his vows. Kissing him, she summoned together all her courage. ;■ Then God-speed ! " she said. " Keep faith in your God. in your country's destiny, and the justice of your revenge.'' One last, long " farewell. " and he was gone. " Will Papa come hack to us safely ? " asked his little girl, with that strange belief in the infallibility of adult opinion that characterises childhoqd. "Yes, very soon, ma cherie" assured the old nurse, now bent and feeble, who had brought up the child's father as though he had been her own. The two women stood together by the window and wept, but >he, who knew nothing of the horror of war. ran away contentedly to await with patience and joyful hope the glad day of his return. And she did not wait in vain. A little more than a month had elapsed before the French officer came back wounded, to find the town in danger of invasion, and his dear ones seeking refuge in the cellars of the chateau. Here he was nursed back to health, looking forward eagerly to the time when he should. rejoin his regiment at the Front. That day was drawing very near when history repeated itself in the shelling of the old French town. " You must let me go— J am fit ! " he declared to the doctor, when the lxrnibardment became severe. "' They are devils, these Germans ; how can I rest here with my native town like a shambles and my dear ones in very danger of their lives ? " But the doctor shoot his head as he took leave of his patient. " It is useless," he said $ " the town has surrendered. You would be taken prisoner — that is all." "With a sigh of despair the officer sat down, tortured by his inaction. Suddenly, a few minutes later, the sharp sound of a bell rang through thequiet chateau, followed by a pause, then the sliding back of bolts as the old nurse answered the summons. The guttural tones of a German voice brought the officer again to his feet. '" I need not go further — there is need of me here," he said, addressing his wife. "But, no!" 3he cried. " '"You must remain in the cellars, where, please ( rod, you will be safe; none but our neighbours know of your return. T will g< there can be no harm in that." And before he could prevent her she had put her words into action. In the salon the mistress of the chateau encountered an elderly General of the Prussian Army, already seated at a table and demanding dejeuner. He rose at her approach. " Paid 'ii me, Madame, \ am so used to giving orders that I forget 1 am your st." Iioicu mi ! onditio I \ Hull « >h. I)lll i nol I hit a lilt 1. 1 I 1 Dam .In ' ' 'I'll 1 Bul I e iniiol trill ilfllllj lotlll || 1 : iicliwomcn, yon a hi in ■," he cried " Ii 111 are in 1 lie hah 1" 1 |)j ueci u omenfnlk ! ' I'o 1 In 1 ipie M 1 I Inn rare)] of i ch irming n ho mi BSlf." 8he looked at him with contempt But, regard le i, be seized her in hi and soiig'hl to 1. i . he I " Ah." came an augrj i oice; u you < I Tin. in are still t he same ' iou . brutes in i87o, and yon are brutei to-day.' Trembling) the Frenchwoman sought protection in her husband' ai but with a oaresa he had' her Btand aside. With drawn sword he approached the General, who with a .sneer would have dismissed the idea of a duel. Hut the Frenchman was not to be trifled with he could not so easily forgive. La Dame du Chateau watched them in miserable suspense as their brig-ht swords flashed in the glow of the ripe afternoon. Suddenly the elder man caught sight of a picture above Hemantel ; it was his opponent's mother. Horror-stricken by a sudden memory. he stopped. But only for a moment ; he dared not tell the truth. They resumed the fight. The Frenchman's sword seemed everywhere, Meeting the other's blade as if his thin steel had a living instinct. Every trick of sword-play was met and foiled by a still more cunning stroke, until at length, his, j BUCKLE ON HIS SWORD