Military life in Italy : sketches - Societa italiana di storia militare

" That one there ;
that one leaning against the wall. . . .
A MEDAL. 273
The son was thinking busily.
" But where is the officer ! this man ? I want to see him
;
I
want to kiss his clothes. I owe him my life. I want to go to
Take me to him."
him, my son.
" "
Immediately
! exclaimed the soldier, coming back from
the thoughts in which he had been absorbed.
He took his mother by the hand, and they hastily crossed
the square, entered the street where the barracks were, stopped
twenty paces from the door, at which almost all the officers
were gathered while waiting for the report, and the old woman
began to seek eagerly with her eyes, the soldier helping her by
motions and words ;
he, too, searching from instinct, without
knowing whom he wished to find.
" "
Who is he ? Have you seen him ? Point him out !
" I have not found him yet."
" Look ! Look !
"
No, no, I am mistaken ; it is n't that one. That other, the
one who is lighting a cigar. Wait till he turns. Wait no, it
is n't he,"
" But who
"
is it, then ?
" Ah !
there he is ! This time I am sure. It is the one
who has placed his hand on the
near him."
" What !
"
shoulder of the man standing
"
Yes,
it is he."
" Mother !
"
" I tell
you
I am sure of it."
"
Really
? Are you not mistaken ? Are you really sure ? "
shouted the soldier, seizing his mother's hand.