“Nearer and nearer came the German lines until one awful day a horde of heartless warriors swept over them.
“Sirs, you know the rest,” said the French officer, his fine face twitching with emotion. “It is the same old story, the old man ruthlessly tortured and killed, his old wife kept alive just long enough to see him die. The oldest grandchild was with her. He too was tortured while his mother, hidden and imprisoned in a portion of the cellar under the smoking ruins of the farmhouse, heard his childish screams of agony.
“She tried frantically to free herself from the ruins. A soldier saw her, brought the fainting child almost within reach of her hand and killed him. Then with the same weapon he made a savage thrust for her heart, but could only reach close enough to inflict a deep wound. Then making sure that she could not escape from the cellar, he rode away after his troop. She became unconscious, and for days the two little children must have lived on the vegetables stored about them. When she regained consciousness she found strength to drag herself to the shelves where the family provisions were stored. All that was not spoiled she fed to the children, but they were without water save for the rainwater that dripped down upon them. She felt herself growing steadily weaker as the untended wound grew worse. The whole neighborhood seemed abandoned, and their feeble cries brought no help. The children pined, and suffering as they were from shock, soon gave way to the cold dampness and insufficient food.
“Marie herself lived solely through her determination not to leave the two helpless babies to their fate. She prayed that they might die first, and she was glad to note their failing strength, so fearful was she of leaving them alone to a horrible, lingering death.
“She herself grew so weak that much of the time she lay almost unconscious with the little ones huddled against her. She commenced to see visions. Pierre came and comforted her and promised that she should soon be free to be with him. The little martyred son clasped her in his loving little arms, assuring her that he no longer suffered. The old mother and father sat beside her and told her to be brave and patient. But with all her courage she felt that her end was near. She could not endure much longer.”
The French officer bowed his head.
“Then came deliverance,” he said softly, “deliverance from all her pain and anguish. She has been released. She is with Pierre!”
One of the officers stepped forward and tenderly covered the still figure with his cloak. He took the younger child in his arms, but it screamed and struggled while the other one fought off the friendly hands stretched down to it. The French officer spoke to them pleadingly, but they only stared stupidly at him.
“They are almost done for,” said one of the officers. “We have got to get them away from here and right away.” He made another effort to take the older child but the little fellow fought with the fury of a little wildcat. One after another tried in vain to get hold of the terrified little fellow, who grew more and more frightened.
Porky and Beany, standing modestly in the rear of the group, watched the proceedings with growing uneasiness. Finally Porky stepped forwards, saluting as he did so.