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Updated: May 9, 2025
Then he rose quickly, went over to the two Frenchmen, took Morissot by the arm, led him a short distance off, and said in a low voice: "Quick! the password! Your friend will know nothing. I will pretend to relent." Morissot answered not a word. Then the Prussian took Monsieur Sauvage aside in like manner, and made him the same proposal. Monsieur Sauvage made no reply.
Morissot placed his ear to the ground, to ascertain, if possible, whether footsteps were coming their way. He heard nothing. They seemed to be utterly alone. Their confidence was restored, and they began to fish. Before them the deserted Ile Marante hid them from the farther shore. The little restaurant was closed, and looked as if it had been deserted for years.
Morissot, being the taller, swayed slightly and fell across his friend with face turned skyward and blood oozing from a rent in the breast of his coat. The German issued fresh orders. His men dispersed, and presently returned with ropes and large stones, which they attached to the feet of the two friends; then they carried them to the river bank.
And Morissot, who had just caught a bleak, declared: "And to think that it will be just the same so long as there are governments!" "The Republic would not have declared war," interposed Monsieur Sauvage. Morissot interrupted him: "Under a king we have foreign wars; under a republic we have civil war."
Mont-Valerien, its summit now enshrouded in smoke, still continued to thunder. Two soldiers took Morissot by the head and the feet; two others did the same with Sauvage. The bodies, swung lustily by strong hands, were cast to a distance, and, describing a curve, fell feet foremost into the stream. The water splashed high, foamed, eddied, then grew calm; tiny waves lapped the shore.
Morissot stopped suddenly. "Shall we have another absinthe?" he said. "If you like," agreed Monsieur Sauvage. And they entered another wine shop. They were quite unsteady when they came out, owing to the effect of the alcohol on their empty stomachs. It was a fine, mild day, and a gentle breeze fanned their faces. The fresh air completed the effect of the alcohol on Monsieur Sauvage.
"Good-by, Monsieur Sauvage," he faltered. "Good-by, Monsieur Morissot," replied Sauvage. They shook hands, trembling from head to foot with a dread beyond their mastery. The officer cried: "Fire!" The twelve shots were as one. Monsieur Sauvage fell forward instantaneously.
Morissot, who was anxiously watching his float bobbing up and down, was suddenly seized with the angry impatience of a peaceful man toward the madmen who were firing thus, and remarked indignantly: "What fools they are to kill one another like that!" "They're worse than animals," replied Monsieur Sauvage.
"Good-by, Monsieur Sauvage," he faltered. "Good-by, Monsieur Morissot," replied Sauvage. They shook hands, trembling from head to foot with a dread beyond their mastery. The officer cried: "Fire!" The twelve shots were as one. Monsieur Sauvage fell forward instantaneously.
Before the war broke out Morissot had been in the habit, every Sunday morning, of setting forth with a bamboo rod in his hand and a tin box on his back. He took the Argenteuil train, got out at Colombes, and walked thence to the Ile Marante. The moment he arrived at this place of his dreams he began fishing, and fished till nightfall.
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