PETERSON’S MAGAZINE.
IT IS I.
BY JAMES H. DANA.
The prettiest girl in the whole village, or indeed fur miles around, wes Nave La Croix, She had a hundred lovers, all of whom expressed themselves ready to die for her; though she, cruel thing, would Rot give more than a amile in return. Her heart was free, she said, and hoped it ever would be: she had no notion of making bereelf a slave for life, by marrying.
So spoke Nanette, just as hundreds have spoken before her; and she really believed for awhile all sho sid, No foot was lighter at the guinguette than hers; ‘vo jest was merrier than that which fell from Nasette; no maiden curled lip more saucily when her name ‘was linked with that of any of the beaux. And yet, ail this while she was in love with Pierre Latour, be handsomest, bravest, and blithest of the village Inds. Sho found it out too, but not until ke was levied in the conscription, when the certainty of his long absence, and the probability that he might never return, revealed to her the secret.
Poor Pierre loved her as his own life, and now, on the eve of leaving her, uncertain whether she returned his love, he was nearly beside himself with despair. He rallied courage, however, and resolved to tell his tale, for diffdence hitherto bad sealed bis tongue, thongh his eyes had long since spoken bis adoration in more eloquent lavguage. He found Nanette ia tears. It was an ungdarded moment for her, and Pierre had nv digiculty in winning an ackaowledg- ment that abe returned his affection.
“And will you be mine, when I return? Promise na this,” be suid, “and I will strive to become great: and will win, if bravery can do it, the cross of the legion of honor.”
Nanetle promised—how could she help it?—and the young soldier departed. The secret wos to be kept beiween them, so the villagers were none the wiser; and as Nanetie seemed as gay #8 ever, no one suspected that her heart was fur away in Russia, whither the imperial army had gone.
But this secreey proved most unfortonate, for the young men, ignorant of her eogagement, were as Mentive as ever: indeed more 80, for she grew prettier daity. Pierre, even before the army reached the frontiers, heard from those who teft the village later than bimeelf, that this or that gailani waa always with Nanetie, and that the gossips éaid it would be a match. How could be help being a littie jealous! And wher, later by six months, and just before the Russian territory wea invaded, he met an old acquaintance from the village, end beard that the son of the rich notary ‘was dying for her, is it stange that he began to fear be woold yet lose his beautiful Nanette, He bad heard so much of woman's inconstancy, eepecially when young and wealthy suitor was the rival, that he trem- bled for her fidelity.
Atl kuow the borrors of that campaign in Russia. OF the half million who followed Napoleon into the hoatite territory aot a tithe came back alive, Of these, however, Latour was one, Yet be almost wished he bad perished in the fatal snows, for he had tost an arm, and that too without gaining the cross of the legion of honor. Not that he did not deserve it. Bat in that awful retreat there was no time for the emperor to think of bestowing favors, Slowly, and almost in rags, like thousands of others, Latour beg- ged bis way back to his native village.
Tt was a bright morning in autumn, more than a year efter Latuur's departure, when one of the village gossips slopped a minute at the window of the cotinge, where Nanette and her mother dwelt.
“Who do you think has come back?” she said. “Latour himself. He artived yesterday afieraoon.”
At the announcement of her lover’s return Nanette’s heart leaped with joy; but when she heard that he bad been back so long without coming to see her, her spirits sank. For she had contigued to love the absent soldier, io spite of the motary’s son and her hundred other admirers.
“He is come back in a sorry plight though,” coa- tinued the gossip, “lame, « beggar, and with but one arma, He ig sick at heart too, and so avbamed that be ‘will not show himself; he says he only cares to die; he is not fit to live with the young and happy.”
Poor Nanette! Her heart was full of pity for her lover. She turned aside to conceal her tears. Yet slill she wondered why he had not come to #09 her, and she fell almost angry again when ehe thought of it.
“He telle me news too, which I never know before, you are #o sly of it, Nanette. Ho says you are to marty the notary’s son. 1 do believe, from the way
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