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To end these painful hesitations, full of confidence in the inflexible uprightness of his father's character, the marshal had gone to ask his advice; unfortunately the old republican workman, mortally wounded during the attack on M. Hardy's factory, but still pondering over the serious communication of his son, died with these words upon his Lips: "My son, you have a great duty to perform, under pain of not acting like a man of honor, and of disobeying my last will.
Hardy's plots are a series of accidents, by which the doom of some lovely or aspiring spirit comes upon it by the slow drift of misfortune. Tess, Grace, Eustacia, Jude it is clear enough to what joys and sorrows their natures make them liable.
Of course every soldier engaged in that part of the fight was, for a time, almost overwhelmed in the confusion, and many of them were surrounded and severely wounded. When the Native Infantry broke, Hardy's captain sprang to the front, sword in hand, and cut down two of the foe. As he did so, he was, for a moment, separated from his company and surrounded.
Yonder a maid and her wight Come whispering by; War's annals will fade into night Ere their story die It may be thought, on the other hand, that Mr. Hardy's poems about war are no more expressive of tragic futility than his poems about love. Futility and frustration are ever-recurring themes in both. His lovers, like his soldiers, rot in the grave defeated of their glory.
Captain Hardy coiled his long, sinewy form in an arm-chair and, eyeing him calmly, lit his pipe before replying. "Boys will fight," he said, briefly. "I'm speaking of his running after my daughter," said Nugent, sternly. Hardy's eyes twinkled. "Young dog," he said, genially; "at his age, too." Captain Nugent's face was suffused with wrath at the pleasantry, and he regarded him with a fixed stare.
The service he was sent on was the soldier's most disgusting duty; but he did it thoroughly, though he would have preferred anything else. He went with Hardy's squadron to destroy the French settlements along the Gulf of St Lawrence, so as to cut off their supplies from the French in Quebec before the next campaign. After Rochefort Wolfe had become a marked man.
McCullough turned on his crutches and leered awhile upon the speaker with a sort of mournful triumph, than he lifted up his voice in a very fair imitation of Hardy's own unmusical wail "Old soldiers never die, never die, never die, Old soldiers never die they simply fade aw-ay."
He seldom drank, but to-night he did not refuse Hardy's invitation to "have something." While they were chatting a rider from the Starr Rancho came in. Edging up to Lorry, he touched his arm. "Come on out a minute," he whispered. Outside, he told Lorry that High Chin, with several of the men, was coming to town that night and "put one over" on the sheriff by stealing the prisoner.
It was clear, from the blots of abundant tears, that the unfortunate creature had often paused to weep. Determined to perform her courageous promise, and worthily accomplish her task to the end, she waited the next day for Agricola, and firm in her heroic resolution, went with the smith to M. Hardy's factory.
It will be seen, therefore, that General Elliott's six divisions were all stationed in the narrow Bear River Valley between the two hostile armies: Fisher's, Hardy's and Livingstone's divisions were headed South to fall upon the left wing of the enemy's main army, commanded by Marshal Oyama; while Milton's and Stranger's divisions were marching to the North, and came upon the enemy, who was on his way from Pocatello, at Georgetown.