I. A. R. Wylie

“ It was as though the earth was cracking under him.
"Charles! we have only a few minutes. I want to say something—to ask your forgiveness. I loved Marianne, I loved Nicholas. I hated and envied you. I felt as though you had wronged me—cheated me of my birthright. I was blind—unjust. You had earned all that came to you. You deserved their love. Men turn naturally to what is fine and brave and true. I, too, am proud, my brother. I could have killed, now I would give my life."
Charles Latour stumbled violently to his feet. ”

“ One winter's day, when Little Nicholas ran out of the church the soldiers were coming back from the unknown place whither they had marched so gaily. There were not many of them, and, though they were the same men, they were changed. On their faces, on their uniforms, on their battered gun-carriages, on their limping horses they wore marks of horror. They went on unceasingly and there was no sound of drum or call of trumpet, only hoarse words of command and the dull heavy thud of feet. ”

“ To the little Nicholas the Big Nicholas was above all things a person who loved candles. It was in vain that one expounded doctrine on the subject. Little Nicholas, who had a way of listening with a misleading politeness, knew better than all the wise people in the world. Even the curé, for whom he had otherwise the greatest respect, could not shake his belief in his own opinion.
Little Nicholas knew because he sympathised. He liked candles himself. They were the tall straight little people who chased away nightmare bogies and uncanny shadows. ”

“ He's going to fight the bad people. Every one cheered him. 'Vive notre Maire! Vive Latour!' He's my father. He's the bravest man in the world."
"Words aren't deeds," the man said huskily.
Little Nicholas did not understand. But he freed himself impatiently, scornfully, from the compelling arm.
"There, they are cheering again: 'Vive Latour!—Vive mon père'!"
The shrill voice rang out like a silver bell over the dull clamour. Latour bent down and caught Little Nicholas in his arms. His face was livid now, ugly with passion. ”

“ The man, taken by surprise, stepped back and slipped on the wet snow and fell. Little Nicholas did not wait. He turned and went down the steps. Behind him he heard voices and hurrying steps, and he ran Caster with sobs of fear and anger tearing at his throat. And at the corner of the street, just when he knew it was all over, and that they would kill him, a strong arm caught hold of him, and he was carried into a doorway and held tightly whilst a dozen figures went sprawling past into the darkness. ”

“ There were times, indeed, when the saint, had he been an ordinary person, might have become restive under Little Nicholas's insistence. He might have felt that he was being bullied and resented it. But the great thing about saints is that they are never impatient. Though they stand on pedestals, with candles burning at their feet and wear golden haloes round their heads, they have not forgotten what it was to walk among the multitude and to desire and suffer. ”

“ Little Nicholas lived with his father and mother in the most important house in the town, For the Latours were important people though they were not rich, even as riches went in that part of the world. But they were "old" people—not upstarts like the Dandens who had speculated and grown important in a day. They had always been important; they had always owned the best part of the land and held official posts and worn ribbons in their button-holes.
Besides all this, Charles Latour was handsome and tall, with black hair and a pointed black beard that gave him a look of splendid daring. ”

“ They looked at him. They laughed to see him so defiant and brave; they laughed as though death were not pounding its way over the hills, closer with every minute. Charles held out his arms, and Little Nicholas ran into them with a cry of joy. And so they stood there, holding one another against the coming enemy.
And Latour crept out like a distorted shadow. ”

“ Little Nicholas shrank behind his mother's skirts. The thought that he had once played and laughed with this terrible, hideous man was like the memory of an impossible dream.
"Louis, I must go to my husband.
"Wait—listen. You must. You can't stay here, Marianne. It is death—it may be worse than death. You know what happened at S——. Well—I am not so useless after all. They won't have me to fight, so be it. But there is one thing I can and will do. I can save you." ”

“ They covered Charles with the tricolour, and his brother they led out into the cold, grey Christmas morning. They set his misshapen back to the wall, for justice moves swiftly for a traitor.
"An ugly devil!" they said, as they shovelled the earth into the nameless grave. "Strange that they should have been brothers."
And in the same hour, Marianne and Nicholas carried their candles into the ransomed church. Their hearts were strong with pride and victory. They prayed together for the souls of all brave men. ”

“ Damn this darkness. I can't bear it."
"Charles, you're ill, you're beside yourself. Death is nothing—a pin-prick. And they're so proud."
"What do I care? Out of my way. I tell you it is my duty to prevent bloodshed—useless bloodshed I won't die."
They faced each other in the darkness. But the darkness did not hide them. It stripped them naked.
"Are you afraid?"
"And if I am? Did I say I was a hero? How can I help what they thought—what I thought? No one can tell till he's tried. Besides it's common sense."
"Where are you going?"
There was no answer. Latour felt his way along the wall. ”

“ Latour set Little Nicholas to the ground
"Take care! If I am misshapen I am strong enough. I could kill you with my hands. "
Again in the far distance the blow fell, silencing them. They looked at one another. Suddenly that which had happened between them slipped into its place. They were aghast that they had forgotten.
Charles Latour turned his back upon his brother.
"I suppose he offered you safety as well as love, Marianne?" he said bitterly. "Perhaps even now he will have the decency to offer you the one without the other. And, God knows, I shall be glad to think you safe. ”

“ It happened again just the same—perhaps a little nearer—like the muffled thud of a giant's footstep.
Louis Latour picked up Little Nicholas in his arms.
"I have horses and a carriage waiting in the street behind the bank. I have passports for all three of us. You will travel as my wife. We shall be in Paris to-morrow morning."
"No," she answered.
He did not seem to hear her. He held the struggling boy against him with a ruthless strength.
"There is no chance for anyone who stays here. Sooner or later something will happen. There will be a massacre." ”

“ Little Nicholas pressed himself against his mother's side. He looked at Latour with a childish triumph.
"My father is going to beat the bad people," he said; "and one day I shall beat them. To-morrow I shall ask Saint Nicholas to help me grow up quick so that I can fight too."
Marianne Latour shook her head. ”

“ He never shut his eyes to a weakness, he ripped disguise from dishonesty and inefficiency with a just hand. And in spite of this he won love as easily as he breathed. People said there was no malice in his justice. "He would do the same to himself" they declared, "if ever he fell below his own standards."
But he never did. His own life was immaculate.
Little Nicholas worshipped his father as older and wiser people worship God. He liked to say to strangers; "My father is Monsieur Latour". He liked to see them pull an earnest face and hear them say, " Ah, yes, Monsieur Latour? ”

“ He must not arrive breathless and confused. He must not show the elation which shook him. He must bear himself as became the magnitude of his errand. He saw himself standing on the threshold of Charles's big room, hat in hand, his coat falling open showing the white shirt front. He saw the dancers stand still—arrested as by the suddenly fallen hand of fate into grotesque attitudes—staring at him. ”

“ A figure came up to Nicholas out of the darkness and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder, and shook him with a rough playfulness. A voice spoke to him in a language that he did not understand.
"Na-Junge, was willst du?"
Little Nicholas could not speak. The sobs choked him, the candle slipped from his fingers and dropped into the thick snow. The soldier prodded him teasingly with the butt end of his rifle. "Mach' dass d' fort kommst, Dummechen. Hier hast d' nix zu mache'." ”

“ Monsieur Destard asked sarcastically. "Is it not possible to celebrate even one's birthday undisturbed?"
"We have received certain information," the officer answered, "by which we are led to fear that the population has not benefited by the experience of others. It is, therefore, necessary that we should demand hostages—important hostages. Monsieur Charles Latour, Maire." ”

“ To-morrow Little Nicholas will take his candles to the church."
"Perhaps."
Latour's groping hand touched his brother's arm.
"You are afraid for them. There is no need. Destard will take his precautions. The blow will fall so suddenly—they will have no time."
"Time to shoot us!"
"Yes. What does that matter? It is hard, but sooner or later we must die."
Charles Latour freed himself with a violent movement
"Curse you! Who are you to talk? What do you leave behind P nothing—no one. It is easy for you. ”

“ At the same time,"—he looked at the old wine-cellar fixedly for a moment, and then his eyes passed on to Charles Latour standing on the edge of the shadow—"they are certain to do their worst first. The civilian population will suffer and your household most of all, Monsieur Destard." ”

“ Why am I tied like a lame old dog to my post. General!—have pity!"
The officer shook his head.
"Your place is here, Monsieur le Maire," he said. "The townspeople chose you in fair weather to guide them. ”