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So without too much further introduction here is the story. Though I will say first that reading nearly fifty G.A.Henty books can really have an effect on your writing. I am an American there fore I am not really anti-French but I just decided that this story would be as the hero is an Englishman. If any French are offended my apoligies and you can just retaliate by writing stories that are anti-British. So now it is time for the story…

Filling for Three Blank Pieces of Paper
By Elizabeth Von Fange

Chapter One

It was a dark and stormy night; Marie, a lovely girl of eighteen with bright blue eyes and golden brown hair, was sitting by her window worrying about her lover, Harold, who was supposed to have been there three hours ago. Had the enemy captured him? It was dangerous, she knew, to ride through the French camp every night but he had always managed to do it before.

Suddenly she heard the sound of horse’s hoofs approaching. Gazing out of the window she gasped in relief for she did recognize his horse. Harold, she felt sure, was on it. The butler answered the door and in a few minutes Harold, a handsome young captain of twenty-five, was with her.

“You’re late. Did anything happen?” she whispered from the folds of his embrace.

“I’m sorry my love. I was kept on duty for later than I thought and the French guards were more vigilant than usual. I fear that a time will soon come when I cannot come and see you so often.”

“I wish that wars didn’t have to happen.”

“So do many, but wars still start and you and I can do little to stop them and must just wait until they are over.”

“But you are fighting, and I don’t quite call that just waiting.”

“Well, I am doing my best to see that it is over as quickly as possible so that you and I can marry, though I believe that there will be many more problems to overcome before you and I can wed. I know your uncle does not approve of my low, in comparison, birth though I believe that in point of fortune we are equals.”

“Yes, so many problems, I often think of them. And yet now, when we are alone together, all I can think of is that you are here and I am in your arms and happy.”

“I hope that you will always be happy, Marie.”

The two speakers were Marie, a young English heiress currently living in France, and Captain Harold of the English army. The two were very much in love and had met while the English controlled the part of France that Marie lived in. However the French were briskly taking it back and it was now a matter of extreme danger for Harold to come and see Marie. Both knew it but neither wanted to stop seeing the other so they continued meeting. But the feeling that soon a parting must happen hung over them like a shadow.

As did Marie’s Uncle. He was as blue blooded as it could get and judged everyone by his or her ancestry. As he was Marie’s sole guardian his opinion would have to be consulted before matrimony could legally take place and the two worried. For though Harold had a goodly sum of money to his name most of it had been gotten through rewards, ransoms, and buried treasure. Harrold had worked his way up in the army from the rank of an enlisted man to Captain, which wasn’t bad, and had high hopes of going further. But all of that would count for nothing in the eyes of Marie’s Uncle next to the fact that Harold’s father had been a blacksmith and his mother was a farmer’s daughter.

Still the two were in love and at that moment neither much cared for Marie’s Uncle or any of the problems that faced them. But problems were still there and were about to magnify themselves greatly, and I mean greatly.

For just as Harold was kissing Marie for about the fifth time that evening, they heard the sound of marching feet and that meant only one thing, the French were coming. Harold ran to the window and looked out. It was the French all right and they would be there shortly.

But in a moment the French became only a minor problem for Marie’s Uncle, who usually went to bed early and did not stir until morning, walked into the room. If looks could kill I dread to think of the fate of Marie and Harold but fortunately Marie’s Uncle’s scowl turned toward the French. For Marie’s Uncle was British through and through and did not like the French, as he considered that they were living on rightful English land and he disliked them for many more reasons besides that.

He did not immediately begin asking questions of Marie and Harold for he first had to deliver several paragraphs, which would not bear printing, at the French and then he turned to face Harold.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? Although I can guess.”

“I am a British Captain and I am here to see your niece.”

“You were doing more than just seeing her I would think.” Marie’s Uncle said and Marie’s blushes confirmed his suspicions. He continued, “You had better state your intentions.”

“I intend to marry your niece.”

“Good, you admit it. You are not French are you?”

“Definitely not!”

“Even better. Now help me batter these French who are currently flattening my lawn and I’ll think over your application.”

Harold quickly did his best to batter the French and with the coolness and bravery of a true British officer he quickly did batter the French, for there were only about two hundred of them and what British officer, especially the hero of a story like this, isn’t up to two hundred to one odds? Well, when it is two hundred British to one Frenchman then he can defiantly handle the odds but with two hundred French to one Englishman… Well, that is a different story.

Fortunately, it was not just one Englishman and two hundred French. There were several servants, Marie and her uncle, and also a large cellar full of wine. Harold, with the intelligence of his race, immediately suggested lighting the casks of wine and rolling them at the French and then firing at them, as the light from the flaming wine casks would make the French excellent targets.

The plan was carried out, with even more success than was thought, for the explosions and the flames came to the attention of a whole brigade of the French who thought a serious battle was going on and came over to check. But it also came to the attention of one hundred British cavalry that also thought a battle was going on and when they got there, there was.

The British quickly attacked the French and the battle lasted only a short time after their attack.

Harold, as soon as it was plain that the British would win and the contents of the wine cellar and his ammunition pouch would not last much longer, ran back up the stairs to Marie, who fainted from relief at seeing him.

She shortly revived and told him how worried she had been. Her uncle marched into the room a few minutes later and said, that though he regretted the waist of his wine, it still had been an excellent show and he wouldn’t have missed it for the world. He congratulated Harold on his victory and then told him that if he wanted his niece he could have her.

You can be sure that this news was very welcome to Harold and Marie and they each thanked Marie’s Uncle heartily and then proceeded to express their joy to each other, much to the amusement of Marie’s Uncle and the British and French commanders who were just entering the room to discuss the proper terms of surrender, and to see if any wine was left.

There was some wine left and several toasts were drunk for the future happiness of Harold and Marie.

These must have been especially good toasts for a few months later Harold and Marie were married and moved to England and lived very happily there with less than the usual amount of quarrels that happen to even the most happily married couples. So with that I shall say, THE END