1897. 



Till-: AMIJUCAN BEE KEEPKR. 



23 



East, whicli was being formed under the 

 command of General Bourbaki. 



From this time and in all weathers 

 she might be seen each day trudging the 

 weary, snow covered miles which lay 

 between Clusy and Pontarliers or else 

 climbing to Fort de Joux, overlooking 

 the Swiss frontier. She sought news, 

 but news, unhappily, was scarce and 

 contradictory, and gradually hopes of a 

 decisi ve victory grew fainter and fainter. 



Suddenly, toward the end of January, 

 the rumor spread that the Army of the 

 East was approaching, having failed to 

 relieve Belfort. For nearly a week Mere 

 Jambe kept a strict watch day and night, 

 scanning eagerly the road by which she 

 hoped to see the French arrive. They 

 were signaled at last, but the Germans 

 were signaled, too, from the opposite di- 

 rection, and it seemed evident that the 

 armies would encounter one another in 

 the immediate neighborhood. 



And now I will let Mme. Jambe take 

 tip the story, for what follows I had 

 from her own lips a few months after 

 the events described took place: 



"One morning at dawn I heard a 

 noise at the door of the cottage and then 

 the sound of breaking glass. I rose has- 

 tily and ran down to the entrance. I 

 gave a cry. My boy was there, and be- 

 hind him stood three of his comrades, 

 but in what a state — haggard, hollow 

 cheeked, their uniforms in rags, their 

 boots almost in pieces, blue and shiver- 

 ing with cold! 



" 'Ah, my childl' I cried, opening my 

 arms. 



" 'Mother, yoa must hide us,' he 

 said. 'The general h^ intrusted me 

 with a message to the commandant of 



the fort, but the Prussians bar the way. 

 They have seen us and are in pursuit. 

 They must not find us. ' 



" 'Give me your order,' I cried. *I 

 will take it while you hide here. No 

 one will suspect a woman' — 



"I had no time to finish. We heard a 

 discharge of musketry, and a neighbor 

 rushed in, crying: 



" 'The Prussians!- The Prussians are 

 here!' ' 



"I pushed my son and his friends 

 into a storeroom, at the farther end of 

 V?hich, under some hay, was the door 

 leading into the cellar where I kept my 

 little stock of wine and cider. 



"The Prussians eiitered in through 

 the open door. I saw others in the road. 

 There must have been about 100 of them 

 altogether. A young officer was in com- 

 /nand. 



"He came up to me and asked brutal- 

 ly: 



" 'It is you who are Mme. Jambe?' 



" 'Yes, I am she,' I answered him. 



" 'Your son has just entered this 

 bouse?' 



" 'My soa ! He is far away from here, 

 always supposing that he is still alive.' 



" 'He is here. I am sure of it. Come, 

 now, where is he?' 



" 'You must seek him then. ' 



"He made a sign, and I was sur- 

 rounded and prevented from moving my 

 position. The soldiers ransacked the 

 house, I asking myself meanwhile who 

 could be the coward who had betrayed 

 my son. 



"At last the brutes found him — him 

 and his friends — and I saw them 

 dragged out, covered with the hay in 

 which they had attempted to conceal 

 themselves. And my son! How brave 

 and handsome he looked, with his flash- 

 ing eyes! Yes; he was my own flesh 

 and blood, and I felt proud of him. 

 They were rigorously searched for the 

 message they were supposed to bear, 

 but as it was a verbal one they could 

 find nothing. 



"The officer stamped about the little 

 room, mad with rage. Glancing at the 

 prisoners, he cried : 



" 'Is your sou among them?' 



" 'He is not, and, if he were, I would 

 not confess it. ' 



"He drew his sword on me, and then 

 we were all dragged out into the road- 

 way, the officer shouting : 



" 'Where is the man who gave us the 

 information?' 



" 'One of his companions has just 

 killed him,' a Prussian sergeant replied, 

 pointing to a corpse which I had not 

 seen, hidden, as it was, behind a bush. 



"The traitor was a franc-tireur, who, 

 to save his own life, had given up my 

 son to the enemy. His punishment had 

 not been long delayed. 



" 'The murderer shall be shot!' cried 

 the officer. Then, looking fiercely at a 

 group of the villagers who were cower- 

 ing under his men's bayonets, he con- 

 tinued: 



" 'Some one among you knows the 



