, 1864-04-23
A Story of Duelins.

I'm was NOhNNSNNs -NO"
tions were receiving the baptism of blood !;
old ones were being sacrificed, and by a
murderous hand. Dynasties were totter-
ing and tumbling. The political horizon
was obscured by a mist, and its hue was
crimson.
Mutations were going on everywhere-in
mind and matter, in public and private r, Ia
tions, in low and igh estates, in opu!ence
and indigenee. Everything was being
changed, and the universal instrument was
the sword The hand Of improvement was
bloody.
But even revolution pauses. Occasion
ally there were lulls.
But the minds of men are not nations
The passions Of men are not the phases of
poiity. These cannot pause. And from
these lulls, from these minds, and from
these passions, the puello, the spirit of po-
lite murder, arose from comparative infancy
to the 'acme of its influence. Men were
crippled daily and hourly; sometimes for
mere pastime, in hot blood and cold, gen.
erously and Indignantly. The good swords
man adOred it. There were men who
could count up their murders on their En-
gers. and 20 through the digits Of the
hands and begin over again.
Acliille de Beaumont was just such
one. Achille st. Pierre de Beaumont !;
step-sOn of the Marquis de Chesnea; no
money; forty years old, and handsome still !;
Maitre d'Armes aud Lieutenant Of the
Imperial Guard. That is all the descrip-
tion necessary for this story Of his doom.
Dueling had become his passion, his sole
delight. He quarrelled with people in
order to kill them. He had slain his first
cousin, a mere boy, to keep his hand in.
He had slain half his friends and crippled
the rest. Only one was spared, left whole
al should ike to kill thee, too, Mau-
rice" said the duelIist, regretfully; "but |
cannot. must have friend---One friend
the Duello requires second"
In return for this unparalleled magnani-
nifty, Maurice seemed to love his friend ex-
travagantly. Truly, he was n faithiul
jackal, was Maurice 1t was said chat upon
more than one occasion he had furnished
prey to the lion. lie had pushed poor
young Vicomte, and had forfeited his life
the next morning at daylight. There were
other instances, but the above will suffice.
At any rate, Maurice was fond of eontribut-
ing to his friends vanity. At the cafe, or
at the club, such a conversation (for the
special benefit of bystanders) was not Of
rare occurrence:
Maurice (sipping his brandy" Let me
see, my dear Achille, what is the number
Of your duels!"
Achille Slipping his brandy)-"Thirty
six, exactly"
Maurice" Aud let me see-roally
have forgotten--outof these thirty-six there
we're fatal"
Achille (twirliDg his moustache)-
''Twcnty-four."
Maurice" And, my dear AclIille, if l
mistake not--really my memory is provok-
iRg-in those thirty-six duels you were
wounded or scratched--?"
Aehill: (with pardOnablc hautcur)-
(" Never"
And upon certain evening toward the
end Of March, when the cafe was over
flowing, conversation very similar to the
above was brought to an unusual deaOue-
a1Cat.
The scornfal "Never1 had just burst
from the curling lips of the Lieutenant, as
it had burst successfully many time be-
fore, when a young man glided from some
where in the crowd to the side Of the bcas-
ter, and said, politely:
"Will Monsieur be so condescending as
to favor me with his name"
Achille de Beaumont, Of the Guard"
Monsieur, have come from Lyons to
seek yOu," continued the young man and
coolly elevatipg the half empty tumbler Of
the Maitre d 'Armes, he cast the contents in
his face.
The duelist appeared paralyzed with as
tOnishment; but the young man left him
no time to cape. SEEKING the nose Of the
Maitre dArmes, he pulled il, aud wrungit,
aud twisted it, till the victim fairly squealed.
Then, still retaining his hold on the nose,
with his disengaged hand he collected a
handful Of the filthy sawdust with which
the floor Of the cafe is covered, and
crammed it down the vociierating mouth,
at the same time rubbing it well into the
eyes. Having gone thus far in very quiet,
business-hke manner, the young man re-
Eeved the sufferer and stood calmly by, ad-
dressing the spectators in the following
terms:
"Gentlemen, my name is Henri Duval;
my place of residence is Lyons; I am
gOld-beater by trade. A year ago our family
was composed Of four-a mother, daugh-
ter, and two sons. To-day our family is
composed Of one-myself. Yonder wretch
is the cause. My brother was lieutenant
Of infantry. lie was unuttcrably beauti-
full; he was noble and brave; our hopes
were centred in him; our lives were moth
ing but eyes that watched his career This
man murdered him. He purposely in
suited him, compelled challenge, took his
life. When my mother heard Of il, she
was i'll; the blow killed her My sister is
dead Of broken heart. Gentlemen, can
you guess why l am hcreg Can you doubt
that my mission is vengcanccs Can you i'm
agine that failure is possible with me y
" Enough" said the lieutenant, who had
spat out the sawdust and drank another
glass of brandy; "here is the, measure Of
my sword'-handing him strip of paper
from his vest pocket.
/" Thanks, thanks r cried the young
man sovf,,ll,y 4. III -. Z. 4. EktIo ,ro,l -,