FICTION.

New Zealand Times, Volume LVIX, Issue 3007, 19 December 1896, Page 1 (Supplement)

FICTION.

AMBUSH AGAINST AMBUSH. A STOUY OK THK FBANGOGERMAN WAR. ; iiV AkUHiDalo Forbes.] the fAlef. In Deconibor of I07X), I was livin', with thu headquarters of Major von Shonborg’s battalion of Saxons in a handsome but sorely-battered mansion, on tho Gorman siege-lino on the east side of Paris* right opposite to Moilnt Avron, over whose ailuP init lowered the sullen face and menacing embrasures of Fort Rosily. There wore shell-holes in the roof of our elvileai!, ill its (Vails, and in the parquet floor of tho fmo drawing-room, which was the common - room of tho Saxon officers, tho furniture of which was in a curiously fragmentary condition. A shell had burst in the grand piano, and had wrought utter havoc among tho keys, hammers and strings of tho instrument, The' place was a favourite target for the guns of Avron and Bcsny, and Wo may be said to havo lived under almost constant flro,

A shell burst in an upper room just as Under-Officer Schulz entered to make a report to tho Major. Scht’ltr- to-ik thfee measured slops from tho door with accurately-pointed toes, halted smartly, bringing his heels together with a sharj) Click ; and stood before his liohimlindmg officer ihotlonlesa, stilt and severely erect. “What is it, Schulz?” asked the Major.

“ Please you, Herr Major,” replied the Under-Officer stiffly, "Corporal Zimmermann reports that in the gap of tho park wall of tho SchloSs DauUay, Eioldlor Claus Sprockets of Captain HamiheHtoil’s Com'pany Was killed by a shot from the little house by the gate. That makes tho seventh man killed this week by tho French pig-dog who lurks theto Slid netor misses a dnanco.”

“ Pig-dog indeedexclaimed the Major angrily. “He takes every chance, as you say, and novel- gives one. Have tho dead Spreckels buried according to form. You tuny go, tlndor-Ofllcer ScluiH." ' . "At your order, Hen- Major!” said tho Undel’-Oflioor with a salute ; then ho went right-about as if he were a piece of mechanism, took his three measured steps to tho door, and disappeared. Soldier Claus Spreckol’s body lay on tho doorstop, where, it Had been deposited while his graVo was being dug. His Would be the Kloot recent; but tho region round about us whs one great graveyard of recent dead —tbb Stain of tho desperate .fighting in Duorot’s great sortie—which lasted without intermission from November 13th to December 3rd. "That villain will decimate the battalion,” growlod the Major, as ho.took a long drink of tho lager beer, of which his wife had sent him a barrel from Saxony as a Christmas love-gift. "And how to mend matters beats me !” ho added, despairingly. Thou impulsive Captain Kirohbaoh broke out—" Bet us rush the infernal hut, Major, and burn it down; that will destroy tho fellow’s cover, I volunteer to lead the party. Why not to-night ?” " It must not be aa you propose, Kirohbach,” said the Major; " you know that the French forepost lino moves forward beyond the hut with ilightfiill, and that not half a rifle shot to tho rear is a brigade of the red-legs in Yillemeublo. We’d risk all that cheerfully, but, as you know, I have strict orders against bringing, on fighting now while the pioneers are building the batteries for the siege-guns behind us yonder in front of Maisou Guyot.” “ And yet,” said little Hammerstein, " it is a horrible pity that our good fellows should be murdered thus !” , “ Fortune of war !” cried Helldorf the reckless. “If you are to be bowled'over, as well iu a patrol as iu tho melee at Gravelette ! Spreckels’ turn to-day; mine, mayhap, to-morrow ! Tho Frenchman doesn’t respect officers tho least in tho world—you remember how he picked off Lieutenant von Ernsthauson ?” “ Permit mo tho word, Herr Major !” were tho bashful words that carno from the lips of a youngster in the light blue cavalry uniform, who was standing near tho door. Tho moustache had not budded on his lip, but there was a quiet resolution in the aspect of him which gavo assilrauce that ho was equal to a man’s part. The young Baron Stoinfurt-Wallenstein was tho Cornet in command of the detachment of Saxon troopers doing orderly duty with Schonberg’a battalion. " Well, Baron, are you going to offer to cut the follow out with your galloping sergeant’s party ?” asked the Major in rather a bantering tone. “ I think. Major,” answered tho young cavalryman, " my fellows would snatch at tho chance if you gave it them. But, of course, that is out of tho question. Yet, sir, if you will allow me, I should much like to try whether, with good fortune, X may not stop this fellow’s devilry. They reckon me tho best shot with the sporting-rifle in our part of the Saxon Switzerland ; and I have my favourite weapon here with mo. What I want to do is to go and stalk this French sharpshooter. May I?” “Y ou may try your luck and welcome, Baron, for me,” said the Major. " Mind, unless you bring good evidence back with yon, wo .shan’t believe you’ve wiped him out.”

The young cavalryman was tho butt of a good deal of badinage that evening. But ho took the chaff with a modest serenity, ate a hearty dinner, and said good-night early. I found him in his quarters above the stable overhauling his rifle, and filling a bandolier with cartridges. He readily consented that I should accompany him, which I was anxious to do from ouriosi ty; of course, as a neutral I was to go unarmed.

Early next morning we breakfasted together, filled our flasks, put some sandwiches into our haversacks, and while it was yet dark passed tho outposts and climbed the gradual slope, oh the crest of which, among tho old trees, stood the Chateau- do Launay. Tho Baron had the bearings of the cottage, to the watching of which we were to devote ourselves ; and instead of heading directly upon it, with tho result that our hiding-place would be right in the French marksman's line of -sight, we edged away somewhat to our right, with intent to locate ourselves somewhere on the left front of tho cottage. At a distance of about five hundred yards wo were close to a clump of evergreens in the grounds of the villa of Nelatonj the famous surgeon. Xu the heart of this clump, where there was comparatively little snow, we lay down, I a little behind the Baron, who waited patiently till dawn, and then gingerly twisted and broke the twigs of holly till be had a clear vista of aim on the cottage, now dimly visible through the frost, haze. . Its occupant, we judged, was cooking his breakfast, for, smoke was lazily rising from the chimney. Then the sun chased away the haze, and the Baron caught a glimpse of tho dull gleam of a rifle-b irrc-l back in the room inside tho wide orifice, where in peace time there had boon a window-frame. His first impulse was to aim a trifle behind the glint, and then firq_; but Ho restrained himself, for it_ was probable bo

would not get many chances, so crafty was tho Frenchman, and he was bound, m tho word® cf Kirkpatrick, to “mak siccar." Wc lay foe hours, steadfastly gazfngafc the white front of .£ho cottage, up against which almost to tho windowsill ihO white snow bad drilled. Thrico tho flash of a shot darted out through thu window space in front of the cottage. Each shot might have meant the life gone from out a Saxon soldier, and my impatience became almost uncontrollable. Each time t begged of the Baron to act, the stern, resolute answer was thrown back, “No, be calm; everything Comes to him who fan Wait. 3 ’ As we passed through the chain of pickets in tho dusk of the winter day we learned that tho of the cottage had killed a. sentry who momentarily .exposed himself, and wounded another man on patrol. . The Baron was ruthlessly chaffed during tho evening, but tho rough badinage of his comrades did not iff the least disconcert him. He did not fc*»ko it ill that I did not care to accompany him on the morrow. He left mo before daybreak for his solitary lurking place among Dr Nelaton’s evergreons, where, hour .after hour, he lay prono, rifle on shoulder, his gaze fixed steadfastly on tho aperture in the wall of the cottage. In the evening he sauntered into tho commoh-roonii his rnAnner quiet and unassertive as Was his V. ; ont. Hi£ entrance was greeted with der*sßo laughter. “ Back again, empty-handed, oh doughty younkor!” shouted Kirchbach. “Do you know, Herr Baron," said Captain von Zanthier, with a sneer, “ that your friend up yonder bowled over another follow of my company this afternoon ?”

Then out spoke Major von Schunborg himself t “You have had two whole day*:, Baron, for your experiment with the rifle which VrroUght sUch execution ih the Saxon Switzerland; Co-uiprrow you will returii to your regular duty/* • 1 ■ “ At your orders Herr Major 1" replied tho Caron, springing to tho attitude of rigid attention On receiving a formal oikler 1 . Then he related -Ills muscles its iiiuch as over a Gerfiiaii officer does, and made a few quiet remarks. “ I should not have proposed going-out again, Major, in any case. Captain Kirchbach, I have not come homo empty-handed ; I brought with me my rifle —its barrel is fouled."

Then immediately rose tho loud clamour of questioning j “ Have you killed the fellow “ Are you really serious ?" and so fotths

Tho little Baron* la his fliiiotest mariner, demurely replied i “ Perhaps tbo jjeutlbmeil wHdilfb interested In thiS little Watte! l will take the trouble to-morrow morning to go out to the front as far as the railway embankment, and from thence survey tho. front of the cottage through their fieldglasses.” And with that ho bowed, said “ good-night,” and wont away to his sleeping quartets oVer the stabler By dilybr&ak next Wording a party 6f ils started on the errand suggested by thb little Brltofi. As IVb reached trio, htilwaj embankment the men of the picket were peering over at tho distant cottage, each man with his hand shading his eyes from the dazzle of the sun on the snow. What they saw I need not describe. But there was no mistake about it; .the little Baron had fulfilled the task he had taken upon himself. It was while We ate a scrappy breakfast its fffl stood found tho pianobuffet hext warning that; In as foW words as miglit IjOj tile bid told us Use gfiW story, boring tho second day the Frenchman had fired several tidies, hilt had never given it glimpse of liiwshlf to. tHo ydtirig ifiarksiHafi dolVu among Hr Nolatoti’s laurels arid hollies.

His last shot ho had fired just before dusk j this was .tlii) shot that killed the man of Zantliior’s CoWpaflJb Tuori, aii eVer, ho fired without exposing himself ; but when the bullet had sped he forgot himself for tho first time in the two days. Anxious, no doubt, to discern whether ho had done execution, he had for a moment projected hit head And shoulders over the window-sill, peifl'hlg ottt tS Ills rig-lit fl-oftt, the direction iii which he had fired; lie was in the act of drawing back when the little Baron jpok hip siiaipshor, at Mini! ,THb Frenchman dropped oh the instiiht, falling with head and shoulders outside the window into the attitude ip which we had seen the body. Then the Baron came away through the gathering dusk j and tlidt was all lie had to say; .... _ , The dead marksman Had ho successor ifi the occupation of the cottage. Strangely enough, the French never ventured up to it. Early in January they were driven bodily backward by the fire of the German “ walrusses,” as we used to call the, siege cannon, from liaison Guyot and elsewhere. Then tho region about Villomenble and .the Clulteau de Launay lapsed to the Galons, fl'hb biiried tile dead sharpshooter under the window froill which ho had sped death so often when alive.

Ho had regularly installed lilnsselt in the cottage, it seemed j it was found well victualled with bread, bacon, tinned food, wine and coffee, and the man had brought with him a small library of good solid reading, as well as writing materials. On tho table in tho back room lay a halffinished letter, which began “Ma tres chore femme,’’ and which told, in the most matter-of-fact style, the results of hia ball practice. He sent his love to his children, and bogged them to pray for his continued success. ■ „

Ho was not a soldier of tho line, He wore the coarse Uniform of tt private of tho National Gi uafd, blit bis liflen was fine, and marked with a gdod mime, til the left breast-pocket of his t'tmio was found tho photograph of a handsome woman, with a little' child at her knee* and a baby in her arms.

. No doubt the “ French pig-dog," as tho Saxons called him, was a devoted patriot according to his lights, and regarded himself as fighting -the good fight for his native laild.

Sohonborg’a fellows gave me the relics of the dead man when I visited them again iiist before tho capitulation of Paris. When that event occurred, and I found myself in tho fallen capital, one of the first things I did after attending to my work was to deliver the rolice at thoaddress found in the epttago. The sharpshooter! it turned out, had been himself a journalist. As did so mauy other gallant French soldiers of the pen, he had rushed to arms when danger threatened the sacred soil. He had escaped from Sedan to form one item in the vast garrison of Paris, and, burning with zeal and devotion to what he strangely conceived duty, he had thrown himself into the -miserable business of pot-shooting, The poor wife thought hie work glorious and heroic j his children had a oribbageboard with tho pegs of which they had proudly kept the tally of his homicides. I believe, before tho Commune time came, that I had almost gob to look at the matter from their point of view. I never knew sweeter children.