THE SUNDAY FICTION MAGAZINE, FEBRUARY 20, 1916.
FOE VA
LOR
LE GREGOR wu just
coming In from his
neat, thriving little
crop. Though his
country was at war,
Qrtgor was not
afraid. His small
farm, did not lie
By Anna Alice GHapirv
Illustrated by Curt Gfroerer
"Remember," Gregor, called after her,
"we are not soldiers; all sick or wounded
should be alike to us."
With the quick change that comes tn
within the battle zone. The lazy, sunny women'8 mlnds' Marta'8 eyes fllIod th
. . .... - .tears. The man. writhlnsr on the floor.
oays passea peaceiuuy oy cor uregor ana
his wife Marta.
tears. The man, writhing on the floor.
could not have been more than 20. She
and Gregor had lost a son at 20.
Marta was almost as strong as a
man. Together they carried the wound'
ed scout to bed. ' '
The following hour was
so full of working over
him, trying to ease his
pain and soothe his
wounds, that they did
not notice an increasing
noise outside. ,
"What can it be?" said
Gregor.
"The villagers after
mam. .Mb, -j . jsm
. Before entering the cottage his bright
old eyes swept Marta's garden a mass of
blue and yellow and white.
Til just take her in a bit of a posy,"
he said, and slowly picked a rainbow
colored bunch as he walked.
Then he entered the cottage, where an
ample, pleasant-faced-woman sat stirring
something In a bowl. When Gregor
handed her the flowers her face was
creased with tiny brown wrinkles of en
joyment.' "He never forgets the good Gregor!"
she, murmured. "Now be more kindly
still, dear one, and put the pretty things
In water before they die."
"Corn cake tonight," she announced
proudly as he returned with the flowers
In a tiny blue bowL
. Suddenly she rested the bowl upon her
knees.
"There goes another shot! Ah, Gregor,
may God be thanked that the battle is far
from us! Think of the poor boys lying on
the battlefield! Sometimes I'm ashamed
of our comfort!"
Sometimes God or fate or chance or
whatever sways this swaying world of
ours contrives a cue as apt as any the
ater. But, at all events. It happened that
at that moment the heavy breathing
half groan, half sob of a man was
plainly heard outside the cottage. Old
Gregor hastened to admit him, . but
sxsrcea duck snocKea oy wut u boh.
The man was reeling in bis tracks.
Bloodstained bandages surrounded
both head and arms. There
horrible stream of red trickling down
the front of his tunic. And the uniform
was that of the enemy.
But the most dreadful thing of all
was. the man's face. It was chalk
white; a drop of blood had streamed
into his staring eyes. The
expression was one of terror
and pain combined.
Old Gregor sprang for
ward to help the wounded
man into the room. Marta
closed the door after them.
The man lay moaning
faintly in the middle of the
floor. Marta came to stand
beside them.
"He is an enemy!" she
said in a sharp, low voice,
"But also a man." said
Gregor gently.
He bent closer.
"H o w came . you in
such trouble?"
"I'm a scout," gasped
the man between painful
breaths. "We heard ru
mors of a mobilization in
thim reirion. Some villa rera
fired on me aa I passed. I
guess they'll be round here
soon!"
He choked a second.
Tou must hide me or
they will make trouble for
you,"
"Get some warm water.
Marta," said Gregor.
"Tou are going
him!" exclaimed Marta.
"He has been fired on by
noncombatants." said , old
Gregor. "He must have
been, for there Is no fighting
between here and the firing
Una" .
Marta tumrt wv silwatly for the hot your precious prisoner at last!" cried
water.
Marta.
always hated the vil
lagers," she said sharply;
'and I would rather fight
them for an enemy than
not at an."
But she had fighting blood
in her veins; she . ran down
the short staircase to I bolt every door.V
The boy In the bed looked up into the
old peasant's face.
They'll km me anyway before long.
They'll burn the hduse, probably,, he
said. Choking a little,' he added:
"You might as well give up now. "Tou
have done enough, God knows, already!
Old Gregorys face , hardened "a trifle.
His figure stiffened.
"Tou are pur ; guest and . we are non
combatants.V he; re joined.
If their feedings had not been so tense
they might have beard the galloping of
horses some distance away not on the
side of the village.
"Rest, my son," said old Gregor. "I go
w u wutLh uiusi ie none, j.1 tney lire the
house, I will come back for you." ,
When he" reached the" little living
room he found Maria grimly pulling out
wnat firearms they had. "1 al
ways hated the villagers," she
said sharply; "and I would
rather fight them for an enemy.
i-uan noi at alt"
. Savage voicos seemed now
close by. The old couple barri
caded the windows, and at
Marta's suggestion chopped a
hole in one of the wooden shut
ters, through which they could
stick an ancient musket.
A yell of angry voices rose
close tn (Ia u
-
heard the galloping horses com
ing nearer and yet nearer. One
of the peasants without shout
ed: "Down with traitors who
have sheltered aa'enemy!' '
;. The old musket answered
and a howl echoed it. The clash
of hatchets followed; they were
evidently trying to hack down
--' f Vl A rlAitaA C I It . .1 n , .
sat at the window with his'
musket. The horses were ,
coming so near now that &1-
V most every one could hear them.
"Marta," said Gregor pres.
L entlV. "I thin It lh, vmin,
needs some broth. - - i
She went" quietly to get ft.
Five minutes later pande
monium broke around the hum
ble cottage. Somehow the two -enemies
had met. The air was
filled with quick volleys, with
moans of men crushed under
horses' hoofs, with high cries.
E sometimes fading away, . -
Finally the tumult died.
, Heavy footsteps . came around
the Uittle cottage. There was a
great banging on the door, But
before the usual call to open
Gregor had left his musket and
crossed quietly to unbar 'the
portal. . 4
.There were only a few sol
diers standing there; headquar
ters had not thought a mere
scout worthy of an extensive :
raid. But in some way the hel
mets glittered In an obviously
official manner.
"Will vriii ,ntr ,,nUm,i 1 im
Gregor. 1 ,
They strode In, filling the quiet house
with the noise of their spurs.
"We are looking for one of our men.'
said the man who seemed to, be in com
mand. At the same moment Marta crossed
;the floor with a bowl of brothV
, iw a . sue i uciuaouea me omcer,
pointing.'; "-.,;" ';' ; ' - , J
"My wife. said Gregor simply. ...
Slightly frowning, the officer demand- : ,
ed: "I should like to see him."
Gregor and Marta led the way to the
wounded soldier's bedside. The boy
looked up with somethingiike fear in his,
eyes. ' , -
I - couldn't hetn It mtr. v. 1 .t- -.
; , u wmincu.
"They potted me before I knew it."
Marta came "forward with the broth
The officer took It gently from her hand.
1 win feed him," he said; and sitting
on the low cot, began to administer spoon--fuls
of the hot liquid. : ; .
"Oh, air! ,L cried the boy,' "It is not
for you to feed such as I!.
Bush!- said the officer., "If two com--num
nna lanti an rlA Kia -i - 1 :
ww VM. vu&r '
lty, cannot I, a lieutenant tn his majesty's
service do aa much? -
In a short time he came down. There
was an odd look In his face half stern.
half tender. - , , - . "
(CwKtimm on Pope 8) .