"There are many like Francois among those youthful patriots," began Captain Favor when his little friends had gathered about him on another occasion to listen to stories about the Children of France.
"They value neither their own safety nor their lives; they are willing and eager to make any sacrifice if by so doing they can serve their beloved France ever so little.
"One finds this spirit everywhere. It is one of the few bright and beautiful things to be found in the great world war, though many of the deeds of heroism of the French children will never be known. The little heroes have made the supreme sacrifice and their lips, sealed in death, can never tell of their deeds.
"That you may the better understand the spirit of patriotism that fills the hearts of all these little French children, I will tell you the story of little Pierre," said the captain. "This is not a long story, but a more heroic one never has been told.
"While Pierre was twelve he was small for his age, but st.u.r.dy, and he loved his country with a fervor that you children of America also should have in your hearts."
"We have," spoke up Joe Funk.
"Yes, I think that all of you have. I wish you to keep it, to keep the fires of patriotism burning and never let them grow dim. As for Pierre, I will now tell you of the n.o.ble sacrifices he made for France.
"Pierre lived with his mother in a small French village at the time the Germans entered the town. Being hungry, as usual, they intruded into the homes of the villagers and helped themselves to whatever they could find, in some instances after first demanding that food and money be turned over to them. The villagers dared not disobey nor even raise a voice in protest.
"A captain and several men entered the home of little Pierre, where there was a wounded French sergeant that the lad"s mother had been nursing and whom the little boy loved very dearly. The sergeant"s wounds were just beginning to heal, but so weak was he that he could scarcely stand without someone to lean upon. When the Germans burst in the wounded man was filled with rage, but he knew better than to attempt to thwart them.
""Give us food, all that you have. Hold back anything and you die,"
bellowed the Prussian captain, smiting the table with the flat of his saber.
"Pierre"s mother was stout hearted. "We have only bread and cheese,"
she said. "You may take it if you will, but I give not to a Prussian, not even so much as a crumb. Take it if you will, for you are strong while I am but a weak woman."
""Woman, you speak truly; we are strong, and we shall take, but for this resistance you shall suffer. See what a Prussian does to such dogs of French as oppose him!"
"With that the captain struck Pierre"s mother with the flat of his hand, hurling her clear across the room. She staggered against the wall and sank moaning to the floor.
"The captain evidently had overlooked the wounded French sergeant, who lay on a cot in the shadows, and his men were too fully occupied with helping themselves to food to take heed of anything else. As for little Pierre, the lad stood trembling with rage. He was not afraid, but he was filled with righteous indignation.
"The sergeant"s eyes were blazing as he fixed his gaze on the face of the German captain.
""You Prussian fiend!" shouted the sergeant.
""What!" The captain wheeled like a flash.
""For that you die! And ere the German could utter another word, the soldier leveled his revolver at the officer and fired. There followed a loud report, and Pierre"s mother was avenged, for the Prussian captain lay dead on the floor.
"For a few seconds following the shot the Prussian soldiers stood mute, then, with one accord, they threw themselves upon the helpless sergeant who already had twice fired his revolver at them, but without effect. They beat him cruelly and dragged him out and before another captain, to whom they told the story of what had occurred in Pierre"s home.
"The unfortunate sergeant was ordered to be taken to the village square, where a dozen old men of the village were being held by the Germans under sentence of death on the flimsy charge of having resisted the Prussians. One by one these unhappy Frenchmen were being lined up before a firing squad and shot down. The sergeant, who, of course, was to share a like fate, was reserved for the last that he might have more time for fear to sink into his heart while watching the execution of the others. The sergeant neither asked for nor expected mercy. Well did he know what the penalty was for such an act as his, and he was willing to die for his country as well as for the sake of the woman who had nursed him through so many dark days of suffering.
"They tied him to a tree while engaged in their cruel work of shooting the accused old men, where the sergeant hung weak from loss of blood, for, under their rough handling his wounds had reopened.
"Little Pierre, his eyes large and troubled, had followed his friend to the square and stood sympathetically beside him.
""What, can I do? Tell me quickly," urged the boy.
""Fetch me a cup of water. I am burning with the fever again. One drink of water and I shall have the strength to die bravely. Those Prussian dogs shall not see so much as the quiver of an eyelid," said the sergeant.
"Pierre slipped into a house and brought a cup of water which he placed at the lips of his friend. The sergeant had taken one swallow when a captain dashed the cup to the ground. He swung and struck Pierre a cruel blow across the cheek with the flat of his saber, laying the lad prostrate. Pierre staggered to his feet, eyes blazing, an angry red welt showing where he had been struck.
""To give aid or comfort to the friends of France is to die!" hissed the German captain. "For this you too shall die! But first you shall see how it goes with the others."
""I fear you not," retorted the child, pluckily. "I too can die for France with a brave heart, and so you shall die one day at the hands of my dear countrymen, but with a coward"s heart."
""Ah! You are brave," jeered the captain.
""I am a Frenchman," answered Pierre, stoutly. "A Frenchman does not fear to die."
""Good! For that I shall give you a chance to live and you shall come with us and fight for the Fatherland," declared the captain.
""Bah! That for the Fatherland!" The lad snapped his fingers in the Prussian"s face. Pierre"s courage, instead of further angering the German, appeared to amuse him.
""We shall see. It is for you to shoot your friend the sergeant. Shoot him and you shall have your freedom and your life. It is well that a Frenchman should be put to death by his own. Can you shoot?"
""I can."
""Then here is a rifle. It is loaded. Shoot and shoot true and freedom is yours, for yourself and the old woman yonder who insulted the officer of my Emperor." The captain extended the rifle, b.u.t.t first, toward the boy. Pierre was outwardly calm, but within his heart a storm was raging. Rather to the surprise of the spectators, he took the weapon, turned it over curiously in his hands, for it was the first German rifle he had handled, examined the mechanism of the lock, then raised his eyes to the motionless figure of the French sergeant.
"Pierre smiled and a new light sprang into his eyes.
""Well?" demanded the captain impatiently. "Do you shoot or do you die?"
""I shoot!" cried the little French boy, his voice high pitched and shrill.
"Pierre turned like a flash and, raising the weapon, pointed it straight at the German captain and pulled the trigger.
"No report followed. The rifle had missed fire. And ere Pierre could make another try the weapon was s.n.a.t.c.hed from his hands and a blow from the captain"s fist again laid him low.
""Dog!" raged the Prussian officer. "Now you _shall_ die, and yonder French sergeant shall be a witness to your punishment. Strip the blinder from that man"s eyes! Bind this boy!"
""There is no need to bind me. I shall not run away. I am not afraid to die for France. I am sorry only that I did not kill you," answered the lad stoutly. "I am young--I can better be spared than others."
"There was no reply to this, but the soldiers were ordered to lead the child out into the center of the square.
""If you run you will be shot just the same," warned the captain.
""A Frenchman never runs away," was the spirited retort.
"The firing squad took its place, eight men comprising the squad.
""Make ready! Take aim!"
"Pierre faced them fearlessly, a smile on his face, his shoulders set well back, presenting a pathetic but brave little figure as he stood out there alone, facing death, but unafraid.
""Fire!"
""Vive la France!" shouted the lad, waving his cap over his head.