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Round-about Rambles in Lands of Fact and Fancy, stories by Frank R Stockton |
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The French Soldier-Boy |
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Anxiously the General-in-chief of the French Army stood upon a little mound overlooking the battle-field. The cannon were thundering, the musketry was rattling, and clouds of smoke obscured the field and the contending armies. "Ah!" thought he, "if that town over yonder is not taken; if my brave captains fall, and my brave soldiers falter at that stone wall; and if our flag shall not soon wave over those ramparts, France may yet be humbled." Is it, then, a wonder, feeling that so much depended on the result of this battle, that his eyes strove so earnestly to pierce the heavy clouds of smoke that overhung the scene? But while he stood, there came towards him, galloping madly out of the battle, a solitary rider. In a few minutes he had reached the General, and thrown himself from his saddle. It was a mere boy--one of the very youngest of soldiers! "Sire!" he cried, "we've taken the town! Our men are in the market-place, and you can ride there now! And see!--upon the walls--our flag!" The eyes of the General flashed with joy and triumph. Here was glorious news! As he turned to the boy to thank him for the more than welcome tidings that he brought, he noticed that the lad was pale and trembling, and that as he stood holding by the mane of his horse, his left hand was pressed upon his chest, and the blood was slowly trickling between his fingers. "My boy!" said he, tenderly, as he fixed his eyes upon the stripling, "you're wounded!" "No, sire!" cried the boy, his pale face flushing as his General thus addressed him, and the shouts of victory filled his ears, "I am not wounded; I am killed!" And down at his General's feet he fell and died. There have been brave men upon the battle-field ever since the world began, but there never was a truer soldier's heart than that which kept this boy alive until he had borne to his General the glorious news of the battle won. |
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