The Strand Magazine, Vol. 01, January 1891: An Illustrated MonthlyVarious
General
The Strand Magazine, Vol. 01, January 1891: An Illustrated Monthly
Various
English literature -- Periodicals; Short stories, English -- Periodicals
"The hut is at the end of the open space, the last on the right hand on
the quay. I found it empty from top to bottom, like all the others. Not
an article of furniture, not a pane of glass, was left in it! There was
nothing except some bundles of straw and the last leg of the big
arm-chair, which was smouldering in the chimney. These signs were
Prussian all over; but I could see nothing of the Germans.
[Illustration: "I SEIZED THE BENCH-IRON."]
"Nevertheless it seemed to me that somebody was stirring in the
basement. I had a bench down there at which I used to amuse myself on
Sundays. So I told the child to wait for me, and went down.
"No sooner had I opened the door than a great hulking soldier of
William's army rose growling from the shavings and came at me, his eyes
starting from his head, swearing strange oaths which I did not
understand. I could perceive that the brute meant mischief, for at the
first word that I attempted to speak he began to draw his sword.
"My blood boiled in a second. All the bile which had been aroused during
the previous hour or so rushed to my face. I seized the bench-iron and
struck him with it. You know, my lads, whether my fist is usually a
light one, but it seemed to me that that day I had a thunderbolt at the
end of my arm. At the first blow the Prussian measured his length upon
the floor. I thought he was only stunned. Ah! well, yes! But all I had
to do was to clear out, to get myself out of the pickle.
"It seemed queer to me, who had never killed anything--not even a
lark--in my life, to see the great body lying there. My faith! but he
was a fine fair-haired fellow, with a curly beard like deal shavings. My
legs trembled as I looked--and now the brat upstairs was beginning to
feel lonely, and to yell out, 'Papa, papa!' at the top of his voice.
"There were some Prussians passing along the road. I could see their
sabres and their long legs through the casement of the underground room.
Suddenly the idea struck me--'If they enter the child is lost.' That was
enough. I trembled no longer. In a second I dragged the corpse under the
bench, covered it with planks and shavings, and hurried up the stairs to
join the child.
"'Here I am!' I said.
"'What is the matter, papa? How pale you are!'
"'Come, let us get on!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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