the regiment of dragoons in which the false captain held
his commission. The beauty of his handwriting procured him the post of
secretary to one of the lieutenants, but although he frequently
attempted to gain sight of his wife he never succeeded in doing so.
One day the captain entered the lieutenant's office, observed the
writing of La Rose, and asked his brother officer if he would kindly
lend him his secretary for a few days to assist him with some
correspondence. While helping the captain La Rose beheld his wife, who
did not, however, recognize him. Greatly pleased with his work, the
captain invited him to dinner. During the repast a servant, who had
stolen a silver dish, fearing that it was about to be missed, slid it
into La Rose's pocket, and when it could not be found, accused the
secretary of the theft. La Rose was brought before a court-martial,
which condemned him to be shot.

While in prison awaiting his execution La Rose struck up an
acquaintance with an old veteran named Pere La Chique, who brought him
his meals and seemed kindly disposed to him.

"Pere La Chique," said La Rose one day, "I have two thousand francs;
if you will do as I ask you they shall be yours."

The veteran promised instantly, and La Rose requested that after he
was shot La Chique should go to the cemetery where he was buried and
resuscitate him with the magic rose, which he had carefully preserved.
On the appointed day La Rose was duly executed, but Pere La Chique,
with his pockets full of money, went from inn to inn, drinking and
making merry. Whenever the thought of La Rose crossed his mind, he
muttered to himself in bibulous accents: "Poor fellow, poor fellow, he
is better dead. This is a weary world; why should I bring him back to
it?"

When Pere La Chique had caroused with his comrades for some days the
two thousand francs had almost disappeared. Then remorse assailed him
and he made up his mind to do as La Rose had wished. Taking a pick
and an axe he went to the graveyard, but when he struck the grave with
his tools and the earth rolled back, disclosing the body of La Rose,
the old fellow was so terrified that he ran helter-skelter from the
spot. A draught of good wine brought back his failing courage,
however, and he returned and passed the rose three times under the
nostrils of his late acquaintance. Instantly La Rose sat up.

"By my faith, I've had a good sleep!" he said, rubbing his eyes.
"Where are my clothes?"

Pe