"
"They may run for me, M. Chapeau, and run far enough, before I try to
stop them; do you know I'm nearly ashamed of what I've been doing as it
is."
"Ashamed!--ashamed of what?" said Chapeau.
"Why look there," said Michael; and as he spoke, he pointed with his
foot to the body of a republican soldier, who lay calmly at his ease,
in the sleep of death, not three yards from the spot where the old man
was now standing.
"Not an hour since, that poor fellow ran this way, and as he passed, he
had no thought of hurting me; he was thinking too much of himself, for
half-a-dozen hungry devils were after him. Well, I don't know what
possessed me, but the smell of blood had made me wild, and I lifted up
my axe and struck him to the ground. I wish, with all my heart, the poor
man were safe at Antrames."
It was in vain that Chapeau tried to persuade the smith that he had only
done his duty in killing a republican, who would certainly have lived
to have done an injury to the cause, had he been suffered to escape.
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