eep, and troubled his waking hours. It was that some day he might hear
that Camille had been gambling again, and was once more in debt. He had
forbidden all mention of his erring son, but the thought of him was ever
present, and lay like an incubus upon his heart.

One year passed, then another. The foundry still flourished; work
positively raged therein. It had no rest; it also, as though endowed
with a conscience, did its duty nobly. Its furnaces glowed like ardent
eyes; its mighty puffing and snorting shook the ground: the molten
metal, red and fuming, flowed from its crucibles like blood from its
body. At an early hour of the morning was heard its piercing summons to
the work-people, and all the night long its glare illuminated the sky.

III.

The campaign of Tonquin was in full swing. In the midst of an unknown
country, harassed by innumerable difficulties, the French soldiers were
contending painfully with an irrepressible, ever-rallying foe. The
smallest success served to excite the popular patriotism, and all
awaited impatiently the tidings of a decisive victory.

One morning, Auguste, looking very pale, entered his father's office,
and handed him a newspaper. There, amongst "Latest intelligence," Mons.
Sauvallier read the following:--

[Illustration: "LEADING THEM ON TO THE ASSAULT."]

"From the camp entrenched at Dong-Song. February 12th, 1885.--To-day,
Captain Sauvallier attacked the enemy with extreme vigour, fought all
the day against considerable forces, and captured successively three
redoubts. In attacking the last of the three, his soldiers, overpowered
by numbers, were about to retreat; but, although seriously wounded in
the head and thigh, the gallant officer, borne by two men, succeeded in
rallying his company and leading them on to the assault. His conduct was
admirable, but his condition is hopeless. I have attached the cross to
his breast. This brilliant feat of arms will enable me to enter Lang-Son
tomorrow.--GENERAL BRIERE DE L'ISLE."

Upon reading these words, Mons. Sauvallier felt a strange emotion, in
which anguish mingled with joy. For a moment he was silent; then he said
to his son, "You think that it is he? He is, then, a captain?"

He read the despatch again, then murmured softly: "The cross! Condition
hopeless!" And a tear rolled down his cheek.

Two hours later the family received a formal intimation of Camille's
deed and state from the Minister of War, and on the following d