FullReads

The Colonel, tugging at his mustache, asked:

“Have you anything more to say?”

“No, nothing more; we are quits. I killed sixteen, not one more, not one less.”

“You know you have to die?”

“I ask for no quarter!”

“Have you been a soldier?”

“Yes, I served at one time. And ’tis you killed my father, who was a soldier of the first Emperor, not to speak of my youngest son Francois, whom you killed last month near Evreux. I owed this to you, and I’ve paid you back. ‘Tis tit for tat!”

The officers stared at one another.

The old man went on:

“Eight for my father, eight for my son–that pays it off! I sought for no quarrel with you. I don’t know you! I only know where you came from. You came to my house here and ordered me about as if the house was yours. I have had my revenge, and I’m glad of it!”

And stiffening up his old frame, he folded his arms in the attitude of a humble hero.

The Prussians held a long conference. A captain, who had also lost a son the month before defended the brave old farmer.

Then the Colonel rose up, and, advancing toward Pere Milon, he said, lowering his voice:

“Listen, old man! There is perhaps one way of saving your life–it is–“

But the old peasant was not listening to him, and, fixing his eyes directly on the German officer, while the wind made the scanty hair move to and fro on his skull, he made a frightful grimace, which shriveled up his pinched countenance scarred by the saber-stroke, and, puffing out his chest, he spat, with all his strength, right into the Prussian’s face.

The Colonel, stupefied, raised his hand, and for the second time the peasant spat in his face.

All the officers sprang to their feet and yelled out orders at the same time.

In less than a minute the old man, still as impassive as ever, was stuck up against the wall and shot, while he cast a smile at Jean, his eldest son, and then at his daughter-in-law and the two children, who were staring with terror at the scene.