Pulp Fiction, 1882 · page 29 of 32
Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 206 — page 29: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1882. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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~ —_———— ee ---- —-—— . — - —_ - They stood on til’ within long gun-shot of the harbor, the telegraph stations working as be- fore, till the flash of a gun from the citadel was followed by a dull booming report, and Norton remarked quickly: , “That gun was not shotted. What does it mean?” Delmont made no answer, but kept the glass at his eye. When he took it down his face was pale and his voice husky as he said: ‘* They have hoisted all the flags. Look.” He turned away, went and sat down on the rail, and beckonéd to Jean Martin, who came up looking half frightened at his comrade’s face. Norton looked earnestly at the island, shift- ing his glass from place to place, and at last turned round. “All the flags are at half-mast,” he said. ‘6 Some one is dead,” Then he looked at the two Frenchmen, and lo! tears were trickling .dqgwn the, megged cheeks of Jean Martin. <a The one-eyed cannoneer was weeping. _ Delmont rose and ¢ame to his friend Norton and said quietly: ; **My friend, our task is over. is dead. Hark!” As he spoke, the ships in the harbor and the forts began to fire minute guns, and the arms of the semaphores rested. They had told their message. The first man of-bis age had died in exile on the rock of St. Helena, So impressed were all by the news, that they hardly noticed the approach of the Penelope's pinnace, loaded with men, till the look out announced it, and added: ‘“There’s another boat coming, sir, with some English officers and a white flag in the stern.” Then they saw that the pinnace was full of wrecked Muchachitos, and—more wonderful stil'—that she carried a small tri-colored flag in her stern, ‘Tt is true,” ejaculated Norton, much affected at the sight. ‘‘l do believe, boys, that they’re oing to bury old grudges in the grave of a ag If so, it shall not be said I stood in the way.” The boats came alongside, and a British officer with a white flag came aboard. With a grave bow, he said: “T am Captain Gervaise, of the governor’s staff. He desires me to say that he has no claim on these men, since the death of our late prisoner, General Bonaparte, and that you are welcome to enter the harbor. He pledges his honor that no injury shall be done you or yours, but that you shall be freely allowed to partici- ae in the obsequies of the late general, who ied at the moment the first gun was fired.” Norton bowed before him rather coldly. ‘‘Thanks for your courtésy, sir. I will not trespass on it. We have had in this ship but a poor experience of British honor, and his late majesty, the res. gg? Napoleon, had still less cause to trust to it. But Il have some of your officers prisoners. If you will take them T shall be glad to get rid of them.” Gervaise drew himself up haughtily. “*T will take charge of them, sir, if I can signal for boats to take them all.” ‘You can have mine, sir. Ill see if you take them before I trust my sehooner in your harbor,” And for the next twenty minutes the schooner was a scene of bustle and confusion, as ‘the released officers went’ over the side and’ the French sailors came aboard, | When the exchange was effected, Gervaise bowed stiffly, and was going to his boat, when Delmont touched his arm. “Can Igo to the funeral?’ he asked in French, . ‘‘ It was 1 who stunned you the other night, and would have taken the emperor had he been capable of movement. On the honor of a soldier, sir, can L attend the funeral?” Gervaise looked at him steadily for some time before he answered, very emphatically and gravely: ‘‘ Monsieur, if you are the gentleman that planned that surprise, you are a soldier it is an honor to know, I pledge you my life and honor to hold you safely from harm, and permit your return to your friends, My duty is over. can afford now to be a gentleman as well as an officer.” Delmont put out bis hand. ‘‘ Touchez la, monsieur,” he said. ‘TI never thought to say as much to an Englishman, will go with you.” Then be turned to Norton. “ Will you wait for me till to-morrowat sun- set, my friend?” “ Certainly.. Till you come, But I warn you not to trust these English.” — “TI must, this once, my friend. I will come back to-morrow.’ ’ Then ie went over the side with Martin and Gervaise, and the two men who had fought - other so long, sailed to St. Helena side by e@. The emperor In the lonely valley of Longwood, where so much of our story passed, rose a green mound, One Eye, the Cannoneer. $e shaded by weeping willows, twenty years after the funeral of the great Napoleon. An old man, whose long bair and beard were white as the drifted snow, whose form was bent with age, his left eye covered with a black patch, was carefully picking the dead leaves off some roses, planted on the mound, when he heard the echoes of guns pealing up the long Borge. e looked up peevishly and muttered in rench; “Can they not be quiet to-day of all days— the fifth of May, when he died? And these roses, they sicken in this torrid climate, and I cannot find a single violet in all the island.” “The sound of the guns went on, and pres- ently he muttered: “Jt is a salute. I haye noteheard one for twenty yearsnow. I wonder where they have all gone now. The eaptain, so young and brave. Poor boy! How he grieved for the emperor. And the American, too. Where are they all? Twenty years is a Jong time: They must be both past forty, and poor old Jean Martin is nearly eighfy now. Nearly eighty! Ah, who will tend these flowers when I am gone?’ ~ He heard steps behind bim and saw two gen- tlemen, dark and bearded, looking at him curi- ously. One of them said, in a low voice: “Tt is he, Norton. Howrglad he will be.” Then be came up, asking in French: “ My friend, do you not know me?” The old man looked puzzled. ‘** Pardon, monsieur, but my poor old one eye is nearly worked out now. Once I could use it— ‘Ay, even to sink a frigate,” said the other, smiling. “Jean Martin, is it possible you do not know D-Jmont?. It is actually I, my friend, and here is our old friend Norton.” The old man allowed a spasm of joy to cross his face, and he took off his faded old cap, say- ing: ‘*God bless you both, messieurs. I am glad you came before I was gone. Oh, messieurs, can you not see, after I am dead, some one is paid to keep this place in order? These English, what do they care for the feelings of our hearts? But Frenchmen should respect the great Napoieon.” ‘“‘Jean Martin,” returned Delmont, slowly, “do you remember the words written by the emperor in his will?” The old man’s face saddened, ‘* Ah, too well, monsieur. They were— ‘““*It is my wish that my ashes may repose on the banks of the Seine, among the French e eople Ihave loved so well’ Bat that will never e, monsieur. The English will not let him 0. “Jean Martin,” said the other, solemnly, ‘‘ prepare, yourself. The English have con- sented, and two of our own ships, flying the tricolor, are in the harbor to execute the will of the French nation. The coffin will be taken to France to-morrow,” Somewhat to his surprise, the old man made no sign of joy: but on the contrary turned round trembling: ‘Oh, monsieur,” he stammered, “ don’t take it away till Lam dead. It is all I have to live for, to tend these flowers for bim,”’ Delmont laid. his hand on the other’s shoulder, his eyes full of tears: | “Jean, old comrade, do you’ think France would part with you? No, no, my old friend, you are to go with him, and be the custodian of his tomb. You have been with him in sor- row. Now yowsltall share his glory.” Under the dome of The Invalides of Paris stands the simple but dignified monument of France’s greatest warrior, and here again, ten years later, the figure of old Jean Martin, the one-eyed cannoneer, might be seen by any visitor who visited that. famous tomb. In the sinrple costume. of the Invalid Corps of France, the old man was wont to sitin his arm- chair, telling, in a thin, gipin voice, to curious visitors, stories,of the Grand Army, of which he was one of the few living remnants, He lived to see the eagles of the Second Eim- ire perched md ity once more in his own be- oved Paris, and he died at last, at the age of ninety-four, on the day that the Treaty of Paris was signed with ussia, when England and France fought side by side in the Crimea. The entente cordiale used to puzzle the old soldier; and, only a few days before his death he said to his old friend, Admiral Delmont, of the Imperial Navy: ‘* Ab, monsieur, [ suppose it is all right, this priendepip, but as for me. I can never forget the rock of St. Helena, and I cannot bring my heart to lové a Briton,” He died kissing his faded cross of the Legion of Honor, telling the priest—who was scandal- ized—with a faint shadow of his former grim humor: “I go—to meet—him; he will know me by this cross,” Thus Jean Martin died, as he had lived, a sim- ple, honest hero worshiper. He had devoted all his life to advance the glory of one man, 29 whom he adored, and he died in the belief that the glory would endure forever. Happy Jean Martin! He died before the shadow of Sedan had fallen on the dome of The Invalides, while yet the name of Napoleon was a - am in France. hat the spell fails now is no shame to the man that wove it. Julius made the name of O@sar a power. Even Nero could not degrade it. ~ THE END. - 2 . cd 7 o Half-Dime Singer's Library 1 Wuoa, Exma! and 59 other Songs, 2 Caprarn Curr and.37 other Songs, 3 Tue Garsssoro’ Hart and 62 other Songs. 4 Jounny MorGan and 60 other Songs. 5 ut Sraerke You Wirrn A Featrwer and 62 others. 6 GEORGE THE CHARMER and 56 other Songs: 7 Tue Bette oF Rockaway and 52 other Songs. 8 Youne Fe..an, You're Too Fresx and 60 others. 9 Soy Younc Girt and 65 other Songs. © 10 I’m THE Governor's ONLY Son and 58 othér Songs, 11 My Fan and 65 other Songs. | 12 Comin’ Toro’’ Tur Rye and 55 other Songs. 13 Tae RoLuIcKiInG IRISHMAN and 59-other Songs, 14 Op’ DoG Tray and 62*other Songs. 15 WHoa, Coane and 59 other Songs. 16 In TH1s WHeat By anv: By ‘and @& other Songs. 17 Nancy Lee and 58 other Songs. 18 I’m THE Boy THat’s Bounp ‘ro Buaze and 57 others, 19 THe Two ORPHANS and 59 other Songs, 20 WHAT ARE THE WILD WAVES SAYING, SISTER? and 59 other Songs. 21 INDIGNANT PoLLY Woe and 59 other Songs. 22 ‘THE OLD ARM-CHArR and 58 other Songs. 23 On Conry IsLanp Beacu and 58 other Songs, 24 OLp Simon, THE Hot-Corn MAN and 60 others, 25 I’m in Love and 56 other Songs. 26 PARADE OF THE GuskDs and 56 other Songs. 27 Yo, Heave, Ho! and 60 other Songs. 88 "TwILL NEVER po To Giz rt up So and 60 others. 29 Bice Bonnets Over THE BorpER and M others: 30 Tae Merry LauGuine Man and 56 other Songs. 31 Sweer Forert-me-Not and 55 other Songs. 32 LeEeTLE Basy MINE and 53 other Songs. 33 De BANJO AM DE INSTRUMENT FOR ME and 53 otkecs. 34 Tarry and 50 other Songs. 35 JusT TO PLEASE THE Boys and 52 other Songs. 36 SKATING ON ONE IN THE GUTTER and 52 others. 37 KoLorepD Kranks and 59 other Songs. 38 Nit DespeRANDUM and 53 other Songs, 39 THe Grru I Lert Benrypd Me and 50 other Songs.. 40 "Tis put a Litre Fapep FLower and 50 others. 41 Pretry WHILHELMINA and 60 other Songs. 42 DANCING IN THE Barn and 63 other Songs. 43 H. M.S, PInaFore, COMPLETE, and 17 other Songs. Sold everywhere by Newsdealers, at five cents per copy, or sent post-paid, to any address, on re- ceipt of Six cents per number. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Puve.isHprs, » 98 Witu1aM Street, New Yore. ‘‘The Model Family Paper —AND— Most Charming of the Weeklies.” A pure paper; good in every thing; bright,. brilliant and attractive. | zi Serials, Tales, Romances, Sketches, Adventures, Biographies, Pungent Essays, Poetry, Notes and Answers to Correspondents. Wit and Fun— Lis All ure features in every number, from suclr celebrated writers as no paper in America can boast of, : | What is best In POPULAR READING, that the paper always ‘has: hence for Home, Sxop, Li- BRARY and GENERAL READER it is without a rival: and hence its great and steadily increasing circulation. 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