Two Friends

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  • Two Friends The Beginning
  • The Decision 
  • Would you like to go fishing?
  • Sure.
  • The Journey
  • A french outpost, I know the guy that can get us through.
  • Where are we going.
  • As Monsieur Morissot, watchmaker by profession and idler for the nonce, was strolling along the boulevard one bright January morning his hands in his pockets and stomach empty, he suddenly came face to face with an acquaintance Monsieur Sauvage, a fishing friend.
  • Captured
  • Give us the password.
  • They entered a small cafe and took an absinthe together, then resumed their walk along the pavement. Suppose we go fishing, OK.
  • Killed
  • Goodbye.
  • Presently they reached the villa occupied by the colonel. He smiled at their request, and granted it. They resumed their walk, furnished with a password. Soon they left the outposts behind them, made their way through deserted Colombes, and found themselves on the outskirts of the small vineyards which border the Seine.
  • The Ending
  • Wilhelm come here! Fry up these fish they'll make a tasty dish.
  • But they suddenly trembled with alarm at the sound of footsteps behind them, and, turning round, they perceived close at hand four tall, bearded men, dressed after the manner of livery servants and wearing flat caps on their heads. They were covering the two anglers with their rifles.
  • We will not give the password.
  • "Quick! the password! Your friend will know nothing. I will pretend to relent." Morissot answered not a word. Then the Prussian took Monsieur Sauvage aside in like manner, and made him the same proposal. Monsieur Sauvage made no reply. Again they stood side by side. The officer issued his orders; the soldiers raised their rifles.  And Morissot's heart sank. Despite his efforts at self-control his eyes filled with tears.
  • Goodbye.
  • Two soldiers took Morissot by the head and the feet; two others did the same with Sauvage. The bodies, swung lustily by strong hands, were cast to a distance, and, describing a curve, fell feet foremost into the stream. The water splashed high, foamed, eddied, then grew calm; tiny waves lapped the shore. A few streaks of blood flecked the surface of the river.
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