""Have no fears, my mother. The brave commander of the cha.s.seurs will see to it that father comes safely home," said Gene. Yet the brave little French girl herself was full of anxiety; she could scarcely keep the tears back when she realized that already her father may have been shot.

"It was late in the afternoon, darkness was just falling, when Gene heard some one approaching. By the clanking sound she knew it was one of the cha.s.seurs, and her heart sank within her.

"The captain of the French detachment entered and halted at the door.

She searched his face and what she saw there caused Gene to utter a little cry of joy.

""Here," said the officer, "is what you have been waiting for. Here is the father whose life you have saved. What I have done for you was only my duty; what you have done for France is immeasurable. I salute you, daughter of France!"

"With that the captain thrust Gene"s father into the room, saluted and strode out to join his company, who were guarding the captured Bavarians."

CHAPTER X

A LITTLE SOLDIER OF MERCY

"Jean is the name of the hero of whom I shall tell you today. He was only twelve, and he joined the army, unofficially, something after the fashion that little Remi did. Remi, of course, ran away to follow the army, which, perhaps, was not wrong in view of the fact that he had no relatives at home. With Jean it was different, for he had a mother,"

said Captain Favor, resuming his story telling.

"A detachment of French soldiers had been stationed in this boy"s home town, and the lad, by many little acts, had endeared himself to them very much.

"One day the detachment received orders to leave. Jean begged that they might take him along, but the soldiers advised him to remain at home because he was too young to go to war. "Go ask your mother," said a young lieutenant, "and if she says "yes" I shall not see you if you should follow us."

"Jean, most grateful for the suggestion, ran home and burst, in upon his mother excitedly.

""The lieutenant says I may go if you say "yes." Say "yes," mother. I want to be a soldier."

""I do not understand what you mean, my son," answered the child"s mother.

""I mean I wish to go to war; I wish to help my beloved France.

Believe me, mother, though I am but a lad I can do much, oh, so much.

And Jean shall be so very careful that he may come back to his home, and who knows but that he may some day come back a big, big general or something like that."

""Please my child, do not think of such a thing," begged the mother.

"You know you might be killed."

""Should not a Frenchman be happy to die for his country, my mother?"

"The argument was a good one, and Jean saw at once that his mother was weakening in her opposition.

""The monsieur lieutenant says I may go if you will let me. Please, my mother."

""Yes, go, my son, if you will, and G.o.d be with you," agreed the mother finally, clasping the little fellow in her arms and kissing him again and again. "Go before I forget my duty to France."

"Jean ran. He did not stop running until he had reached the camp of the detachment, where preparations for marching were in active progress. But Jean hung about at a distance. When the detachment started away, he, like Remi, fell in behind and followed. Perhaps the lieutenant--Lieutenant Andre--saw him, but if so the officer thought best not to let this be known, either to the boy or to the men.

"That night Jean joined the company of Lieutenant Andre. A soldier shared his blanket with the child. The next morning Jean made himself useful by carrying water, by helping the cooks and by performing other acts that relieved the soldiers.

"The march was resumed soon after daylight. The lad had a further idea and this he worked out all during the day. Providing himself with canteens, which he took from the soldiers of his company, he stopped every little while at farmhouses and filled the canteens. These he restored to their owners, and then, taking other canteens, filled these as well, running to catch up with his company to give his comrades water. That day and following days found the child the hardest worked person in the company.

"Now and then a soldier would stagger from weariness. Jean was at his side in a moment relieving the soldier of some of his burden which the boy would carry until someone took it away from him.

"One day the colonel of the regiment discovered him and ordered him sent home. Jean begged, all to no purpose, then ran to his friend, the lieutenant, for help. The lieutenant took Jean back to the colonel and explained the situation.

""This boy," said the lieutenant, "is one of the most useful civilians with this outfit. We shall miss him if he is sent back. And further, it would not be safe for him to return home alone. In all probability he would not reach there alive."

""Do I understand that you are willing to charge yourself with the care of this child?" demanded the colonel.

""I do, most certainly, my Colonel."

""Very good, then; the boy may remain. Watch over him. He is a patriot, indeed."

"Jean"s joy showed in his face only. He made no fuss, but kissed the hand of his faithful friend the lieutenant and went about his duties.

"There came a day when the regiment met the Prussians--when the Frenchmen went over the top and the Germans came out to meet them.

Jean was with his beloved companions, but, strange to say, he carried no rifle. One had been offered to him, but he shook his head. Instead, he carried several canteens of water and his blouse was stuffed with first-aid bandages. He knew what he wished to do and what he believed he could do best.

"Soon men began to fall. The stretcher bearers were too few to give quick attention to all, but Jean was there. With his bandages he bound as best he could the wounds of his comrades, and quenched their thirst from his canteens. Many were the suffering poilus who blessed the little soldier of mercy that day.

"Jean"s face was bleeding where a bullet had left a gash across it, but to this he gave not the slightest heed. Time and time again he ran back for more water; time and time again did he rush for the stretcher bearers to get aid for a particularly badly wounded comrade. The child seemed to be utterly fearless, or perhaps he did not even realize that the air about him was thick with bullets and exploding sh.e.l.ls. If he knew he did not care.

"With nightfall the troops of both sides backed away to their own trenches. Jean"s work, however, was not yet done. He remained out on the field where lay men who would never rise again, and many more who were suffering and dying. All night long he worked with them, until nearly daybreak, by which time the stretcher bearers had finished their work.

"When day dawned his comrades found little Jean asleep on top of the parapet of his own trench, with a storm of machine gun fire sweeping over him. He was sleeping in a rain of steel. They hauled him in and tucked him away in a dugout.

"Jean might have slept the day through had not a sh.e.l.l blown up the dugout and literally blown the boy over the lip with it. He was considerably bruised and shocked, but otherwise was unhurt.

"By the time he had collected his wits and got the dizziness out of his head, his comrades were once more going over the top.

""I must go," was Jean"s reply when an officer sought to hold him back.

"Gathering up all the canteens he could carry, Jean filled them with water and was over the top and out on the storm-swept field. His eyes glowed with admiration when he saw his lieutenant leading and encouraging the men of his company. Jean tried to keep close to him, but this was not wholly possible, for the lad was still performing his work of mercy.

"Suddenly he saw the lieutenant stagger and fall.

"With a little cry Jean sprang up from the wounded man he was working over and ran to the side of his friend.

""Where--where is it, my dear Lieutenant?" he begged anxiously.

""Two times they hit me, child--in the shoulder and in the side. It is bad. But never mind, lad, go to the others; they need you more than do I."

""No, you shall come with me. Let me get my back to yours."

""You cannot carry me."

""Jean is stronger than he looks." With that the lad got the officer to a sitting position and, placing his back against the lieutenant"s, his arms under those of the officer, he straightened up. Of course, he was not strong enough to carry the man, but he was able to drag him, and with almost as much comfort to the wounded one as if he were on a stretcher.

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