When I said
that I came with a purpose I meant only that a certain thought, a
wish, led me to this spot. Let us sit together awhile beside the
spring and make better acquaintance."
"I do not desire it," said the soldier, with a frown.
"But you will not refuse it?" queried the priest gently. "It is
not good to refuse the request of one old enough to be your father.
Look, I have here some excellent tobacco and cigarette-papers. Let
us sit down and smoke together. I will tell you who I am and the
purpose that brought me here."
The soldier yielded grudgingly, not knowing what else to do. They
sat down on a mossy bank beside the spring, and while the blue
smoke of their cigarettes went drifting under the little trees the
priest began:
"My name is Antoine Courcy. I am the cure of Darney, a village
among the Reaping Hook Hills, a few leagues south from here.
For twenty-five years I have reaped the harvest of heaven in that
blessed little field. I am sorry to leave it. But now this war,
this great battle for freedom and the life of France, calls me.
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