"
"Why not?" asked Father Courcy. "It is a good place, a holy place.
Heaven is over our heads and very near. I will receive your confession
here."
The soldier knelt among the flowers. The priest pronounced the
sacred words. The soldier began his confession:
"I, Pierre Duval, a great sinner, confess my fault, my most grievous
fault, and pray for pardon." He stopped for a moment and then
continued, "But first I must tell you, Father, just who I am and
where I come from and what brings me here."
"Go on, Pierre Duval, go on. That is what I am waiting to hear. Be
simple and very frank."
"Well, then, I am from the parish of Laucourt, in the pleasant
country of the Barrois not far from Bar-sur-Aube. My word, but that
is a pretty land, full of orchards and berry-gardens! Our old farm
there is one of the prettiest and one of the best, though it is
small. It was hard to leave it when the call to the colors came,
two years ago. But I was glad to go. My heart was high and strong
for France. I was in the Nth Infantry, We were in the centre division
under General Foch at the battle of the Marne.
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