the portygee-第56节

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fiction。　　Sergeant　Speranza　is　said　to　have　led　his　company　in　the
capture　of　the　village　and　to　have　acted　with　distinguished
bravery。〃　　The　editor　of　the　Boston　paper　who　first　read　this
dispatch　turned　to　his　associate　at　the　next　desk。

〃Speranza？　。　。　。　Speranza？〃　he　said　aloud。　　〃Say；　Jim；　wasn't　it
Albert　Speranza　who　wrote　that　corking　poem　we　published　after　the
Lusitania　was　sunk？〃

Jim　looked　up。　　〃Yes；〃　he　said。　　〃He　has　written　a　lot　of　pretty
good　stuff　since；　too。　　Why？〃

〃He's　just　been　killed　in　action　over　there；　so　Conway　says　in　this
dispatch。〃

〃So？　。　。　。　　Humph！　。　。　。　　Any　particulars？〃

〃Not　yet。　　'Distinguished　bravery；'　according　to　Conway。　　Couldn't
we　have　something　done　in　the　way　of　a　Sunday　special？　　He　was　a
Massachusetts　fellow。〃

〃We　might。　　We　haven't　a　photograph；　have　we？　　If　we　haven't；
perhaps　we　can　get　one。〃

The　photograph　was　obtainedbribery　and　corruption　of　the　Orham
photographerand；　accompanied　by　a　reprint　of　the　Lusitania　poem；
appeared　in　the　〃Magazine　Section〃　of　the　Sunday　newspaper。　　With
these　also　appeared　a　short　notice　of　the　young　poet's　death　in　the
service　of　his　country。

That　was　the　beginning。　　At　the　middle　of　that　week　Conway　sent
another　dispatch。　　The　editor　who　received　it　took　it　into　the
office　of　the　Sunday　editor。

〃Say；〃　he　said；　〃here　are　more　particulars　about　that　young　chap
Speranza；　the　one　we　printed　the　special　about　last　Sunday。　　He
must　have　been　a　corker。　　When　his　lieutenant　was　put　out　of
business　by　a　shrapnel　this　Speranza　chap　rallied　the　men　and
jammed　'em　through　the　Huns　like　a　hot　knife　through　butter。
Killed　the　German　officer　and　took　three　prisoners　all　by　himself。
Carried　his　wounded　lieutenant　to　the　rear　on　his　shoulders；　too。
Then　he　went　back　into　the　ruins　to　get　another　wounded　man　and　was
blown　to　slivers　by　a　hand　grenade。　　He's　been　cited　in　orders　and
will　probably　be　decorated　by　the　Frenchthat　is；　his　memory　will
be。　　Pretty　good　for　a　poet；　I'd　say。　　No　'lilies　and　languors'
about　that；　eh？〃

The　Sunday　editor　nodded　approval。

〃Great　stuff！〃　he　exclaimed。　　〃Let　me　have　that　dispatch；　will　you；
when　you've　finished。　　I've　just　discovered　that　this　young
Speranza's　father　was　Speranza；　the　opera　baritone。　　You　remember
him？　　And　his　mother　was　the　daughter　of　a　Cape　Cod　sea　captain。
How's　that？　　Spain；　Cape　Cod；　opera；　poetry　and　the　Croix　de
Guerre。　　And　have　you　looked　at　the　young　fellow's　photograph？
Combination　of　Adonis　and　'Romeo；　where　art　thou。'　　I've　had　no
less　than　twenty　letters　about　him　and　his　poetry　already。　　Next
Sunday　we'll　have　a　special　〃as　is。〃　　Where　can　I　get　hold　of　a　lot
of　his　poems？〃

The　〃special　as　was〃　occupied　an　entire　page。　　A　reporter　had
visited　South　Harniss　and　had　taken　photographs　of　the　Snow　place
and　some　of　its　occupants。　　Captain　Zelotes　had　refused　to　pose；
but　there　was　a　view　of　the　building　and　yards　of　〃Z。　Snow　and　Co。〃
with　the　picturesque　figure　of　Mr。　Issachar　Price　tastefully　draped
against　a　pile　of　boards　in　the　right　foreground。　　Issy　had　been　a
find　for　the　reporter；　he　supplied　the　latter　with　every　fact
concerning　Albert　which　he　could　remember　and　some　that　he　invented
on　the　spur　of　the　moment。　　According　to　Issy；　Albert　was　〃a　fine；
fust…class　young　feller。　　Him　and　me　was　like　brothers；　as　you
might　say。　　When　he　got　into　trouble；　or　was　undecided　or　anything；
he'd　come　to　me　for　advice　and　I　always　gave　it　to　him。　　Land；　yes！
I　always　give　to　Albert。　　No　matter　how　busy　I　was　I　always　stopped
work　to　help　HIM　out。〃　　The　reporter　added　that　Mr。　Price　stopped
work　even　while　speaking　of　it。

The　special　attracted　the　notice　of　other　newspaper　editors。　　This
skirmish　in　which　Albert　had　taken　so　gallant　part　was　among　the
first　in　which　our　soldiers　had　participated。　　So　the　story　was
copied　and　recopied。　　The　tale　of　the　death　of　the　young　poet；　the
〃happy　warrior；〃　as　some　writer　called　him；　was　spread　from　the
Atlantic　to　the　Pacific　and　from　Canada　to　the　Gulf。　　And　just　at
this　psychological　moment　the　New　York　publisher　brought　out　the
long　deferred　volume。　　The　Lances　of　Dawn；　Being　the　Collected
Poems　of　Albert　M。　C。　Speranza；　such　was　its　title。

Meanwhile；　or；　rather；　within　the　week　when　the　Lances　of　Dawn
flashed　upon　the　public；　Captain　Zelotes　received　a　letter　from　the
captain　of　Albert's　regiment　in　France。　　It　was　not　a　long　letter；
for　the　captain　was　a　busy　man；　but　it　was　the　kindly；　sympathetic
letter　of　one　who　was；　literally；　that　well…advertised　combination；
an　officer　and　a　gentleman。　　It　told　of　Albert's　promotion　to　the
rank　of　sergeant；　〃a　promotion　which；　had　the　boy　been　spared；
would；　I　am　sure；　have　been　the　forerunner　of　others。〃　　It　told　of
that　last　fight；　the　struggle　for　the　village；　of　Sergeant
Speranza's　coolness　and　daring　and　of　his　rush　back　into　the　throat
of　death　to　save　a　wounded　comrade。


The　men　tell　me　they　tried　to　stop　him　（wrote　the　captain）。　　He　was
himself　slightly　wounded；　he　had　just　brought　Lieutenant　Stacey
back　to　safety　and　the　enemy　at　that　moment　was　again　advancing
through　the　village。　　But　he　insisted　upon　going。　　The　man　he　was
trying　to　rescue　was　a　private　in　his　company　and　the　pair　were
great　friends。　　So　he　started　back　alone；　although　several　followed
him　a　moment　later。　　They　saw　him　enter　the　ruined　cottage　where
his　friend　lay。　　Then　a　party　of　the　enemy　appeared　at　the　corner
and　flung　grenades。　　The　entire　side　of　the　cottage　which　he　had
just　entered　was　blown　in　and　the　Germans　passed　on　over　it；
causing　our　men　to　fall　back　temporarily。　　We　retook　the　place
within　half　an　hour。　　Private　Kelly's　bodyit　was　Private　Kelly
whom　Sergeant　Speranza　was　attempting　to　rescuewas　found　and
another；　badly　disfigured；　which　was　at　first　supposed　to　be　that
of　your　grandson。　　But　this　body　was　subsequently　identified　as
that　of　a　private　named　Hamlin　who　was　killed　when　the　enemy　first
charged。　　Sergeant　Speranza's　body　is　still　missing；　but　is　thought
to　be　buried　beneath　the　ruins　of　the　cottage。　　These　ruins　were
subsequently　blown　into　further　chaos　by　a　high　explosive　shell。


Then　followed　more　expressions　of　regret　and　sympathy　and
confirmation　of　the　report　concerning　citation　and　the　war　cross。
Captain　Lote　read　the　letter　at　first　alone　in　his　private　office。
Then　he　brought　it　home　and　gave　it　to　his　wife　to　read。　　Afterward
he　read　it　aloud　to　Mrs。　Ellis　and　to　Laban；　who　was　making　his
usual　call　in　the　Snow　kitchen。

When　the　reading　was　ended　Labe　was　the　first　to　speak。　　His　eyes
were　shining。

〃Godfreys！〃　he　exclaimed。　　Godfreys；　Cap'n　Lote！〃

The　captain　seemed　to　understand。

〃You're　right；　Labe；〃　he　said。　　〃The　boy's　made　us　proud　of
him。　。　。　。　　Prouder　than　some　of　us　are　of　ourselves；　I　cal'late；〃
he　added；　rising　and　moving　toward　the　door。

〃Sho；　sho；　Cap'n；　you　mustn't　feel　that　way。　　No；　no。〃

〃Humph！　。　。　。　　Labe；　I　presume　likely　if　I　was　a　pious　man；　one　of
the　old…fashioned　kind　of　pious；　and　believed　the　Almighty　went　out
of　his　way　to　get　square　with　any　human　bein'　that　made　a　mistake
or　didn't　do　the　right　thingif　I　believed　that　I　might　figger　all
this　was　a　sort　of　special　judgment　on　me　for　my　prejudices；　eh？〃

Mr。　Keeler　was　much　disturbed。

〃Nonsense；　nonsense；　Cap'n　Lote！〃　he　protested。　　〃You　ain't　fair　to
yourself。　　You　never　treated　Al　anyhow　but　just　honest　and　fair　and
square。　　If　he　was　here　now　instead　of　layin'　dead　over　there　in
France；　poor　feller；　he'd　say　so；　too。　　Yes；　he　would。　　Course　he
would。〃

The　captain　made　no　reply；　but　walked　from　the　room。　　Laban　turned
to　Mrs。　Ellis。

〃The　old　man　broods　over　that；〃　he　said。　　〃I　wish。　。　。　。　　Eh？
What's　the　matter；　Rachel？　　What　are　you　lookin'　at　me　like　that
for？〃

The　housekeeper　was　leaning　forward　in　her　chair；　her　cheeks
flushed　and　her　hands　clenched。

〃How　do　you　know　he's　dead？〃　she　asked；　in　a　mysterious　whisper。

〃Eh？　　How　do　I　know　who's　dead？〃

〃Albert。　　How　do　you　know　he's　dead？〃

Laban　stared　at　her。

〃How　do　I　know　he's　DEAD！〃　he　repeated。　　〃How　do　I　know〃

〃Yes；　yes；　yes；〃　impatiently；　〃that's　what　I　said。　　Don't　run　it
over　three　or　four　times　more。　　How　do　you　know　Albert's　dead？〃

〃Why；　Rachel；　what　kind　of　talk's　that？　　I　know　he's　dead　because
the　newspapers　say　so；　and　the　War　Department　folks　say　so；　and
this　cap'n　man　in　France　that　was　right　there　at　the　time；　HE　says
so。　　All　hands　say　soyes；　yes。　　So　don't〃

〃Sh！　　I　don't　care　if　they　all　say　so　ten　times　over。　　How　do　they
KNOW？　　They　ain't　found　him　dead；　have　they？　　The　report　from　the
War　Department　folks　was　sent　when　they　thought　that　other　body　was
Albert's。　　Now　they　know　that　wasn't　him。　　Where　is　he？〃

〃Why；　under　the　ruins　of　that　cottage。　　'Twas　all　blown　to　pieces
and　most　likely〃

〃Um…hm。　　There　you　are！　　'Most　likely！'　　Well；　I　ain't　satisfied
with　most　likelys。　　I　want　to　KNOW。〃

〃Butbut〃

〃Laban　Keeler；　until　they　find　his　body　I　shan't　believe　Albert's
dead。〃

〃But；　Rachel；　you　mustn't　try　to　deceive　yourself　that　way。　　Don't
you　see〃

〃No；　I　don't　see。　　Labe；　when　Robert　Penfold　was　lost　and　gone　for
all　them　months　all