The Children of France | Page 8

Ruth Royce
like all of his youthful friends, was a noble fellow and a hero, quick-witted and very bright. You would soon learn, were you in France, how keen and clever these French children are. Their wits have been greatly sharpened since the war began. But to our story--.
"The Prussians had reached a point on the west bank of the River R----, a narrow stream some distance back and to the left of the battle front. On the right side of the river, a few miles from it, was the little village in which Francois lived. A detachment of French infantry had arrived at the town, having come there on word that the Germans were threatening the village.
"'Where are the Prussians?' demanded the captain of the mayor. He was eager to get at them.
"'On the other side of the river. Other French detachments have driven them away twice, but each time the Boches return. We have not seen them here in several days now,' the mayor informed him.
"'I must know their exact location and the size of their force. I cannot send one of my own soldiers. Have you a man in the village who can pass the lines and obtain the information I seek?'
"'I fear there are none, sir,' replied the mayor.
"Francis, who had been an eager listener to this conversation, stepped forward at this juncture.
"'I will go, monsieur le Capitaine,' he said.
"'Ah! You know where they are?'
"'No, sir, but I know the country for many miles.'
"'But the Germans will catch you, and if they do you will be shot. I cannot permit one so young as you are to sacrifice himself.'
"Francois smiled. 'I have a grandmother living in the other village and she is sick. Should a lad not be permitted to visit his grandmother who is ill?' he asked.
"The French captain saw the point and smiled. 'Go, then, if you will, but be careful. If you succeed you truly will be a hero, my lad.'
"'Francois will find the Boches,' was the boy's confident reply.
"Without waiting for the captain to change his mind the lad set out and was soon out of sight of the village. Reaching the river, he crept along the bank until he found the bridge he was looking for. Over this he crawled on hands and knees, and, reaching the other side of the river, he dodged along until he came to the village where the Prussians were supposed to be. Francois halted at a farmhouse where he was known. The farmer's wife was feeding the pigs, and she did not see him until he said:
"'Where are the Boches?'
"'Francois! What do you here?' she exclaimed.
"'I come to see my grandmother. But I see none of the enemy.'
"'Unhappy child, there are thousands of them over yonder. Do not go on, I beg of you. You surely will be shot.'
"'I go to see my grandmother. Good day, madame.' Francois plodded on across the fields in the direction indicated by the farmer's wife. Suddenly he saw a troop of Prussian cavalry approaching him at a gallop.
"'Halt!' commanded the captain of the troop when they drew up near the boy. 'What do you here?'
"'Walking, sir. I go to see my grandmother who is ill.'
"The Prussian laughed. 'Do you not know that the villagers have been ordered to remain at home and that he who disobeys this order will be shot?' questioned the commander, sternly.
"'Ah, sir, that is well for the grown men and women, but for children who go to see their sick grandmothers--'
"'The order is for all. About face! March! You will be shot for your disobedience.'
"'But I must see my grandmother,' insisted the lad. 'She is ill, I tell you.'
"Two soldiers swung him about and marched him to their camp. As he neared the camp he saw many cannon and machine guns, large numbers of cavalrymen and infantry. He estimated as best he could how many of them there were. He saw, too, that the cannon were being placed so their muzzles pointed toward the river. Francois nodded wisely.
"'It is to shoot over to our side of the river,' he said to himself. 'One would not think they could shoot so far as our village. But they shall find our fine French cannon can shoot farther.'
"His reflections were broken in upon rudely when he was thrust into what proved to be the guardhouse. In reality he was thrown in by the two soldiers who had picked him up and sent him sprawling on the floor. 'What less could one expect from a Boche?' he muttered. For aught he knew, he soon would get worse. A sentry was posted at the door and Francois was informed that if he tried to escape he would be shot then and there.
"The guard house also was used to store equipment in. There
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