New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1872-03-03

already. Give me your hand
:" shook the poor fellow warmly by the
hand, and tried to inspire him with conn
dence.
THE whole thing was excitement and
pleasure to me, and enjoyed my position
amazingly.
Max Oppenheims heart could have told
a very different story. However, 1t was an
point of honor with him. And though 1
believe now he would have given anything
in the world to be comfortably out OF me
stitied his feelings!
"There was another knock at my door;
Here are the gentlemen, n,ost prooa-
BLY, said he 'HOping-indeed, knowing
that YOU would not refuse your assistance,
| begged them to await us in the street.
Shall open the door:
".Certainly Let them III.
"There they stood, flushed with wine,
careless and excited-German students to
the life We all went out together.
.There is picture Of Gerome's, which
saw once in Paris. and OF which see pho
which makes me shudder again. 1t is
called lie Duel de PierrOt' On just such
spot Max Oppenheim and Ferdinand koh-
Ter met.
1T was Just such winters morning
inst such a bleak, dreary landscape. just
the same snow thlckly strewed on the
ground.
Il never look at the picture or imagine
the scene, without seeing Max Oppenheim
blood.
.For Max Oppenhrim fell that morning,
mortaIIy wounded, on the snow.
I'VE saw at once he was utterly Ignorant
of the sword, and unanimously begged Fer
diuand to he gentle With him. just give
him a scratch" we said, and that will do
had no doubt in my own mind that terdi-
nand had no intention OF acting otherwise
Poor Max brought about his own death:
He fought like a young lion. wildly, aud
without an atom of head Ferdinand gave
a Iunce to defend His own life, aud it Was
fatal thrust for Max Oppenheim.
"Therc he died, where he had fought so
desperately. 1t was an awful thing Tor all
OF Us: and we would, OEe and all, cut of
our right hand sooner than it should have
happened. l shall never forget the awful
stiffness Of the morning. as we stood round
the dead body of our fellow student. or the
bitter sorrow with which we bore his re-
mains away from the dreadful scene
"The last sad and painful duties con-
pected with MaXs unfortunate death de-
yolyed upon myself. The worst part was
to come; for, before he breathed his last, be
entrusted letter to my care, and whispered
only one word, Marie
II had to meet the young widow face to
face.
How I blamed myself for my folly, as
proceeded on my sad mission. How far
was not accountable for the young mans
death! How easy it would have been for
me to take his part, and patch the matter
ND. But no, because few headstrong fools,
excited with wine, had insulted the woman
he loved better than any one else in the
world-his wife, whom he was bound to
protect to the last-because he had resented
these insults and an absurd quarrel ensued,
lad lent myself to meeting between the
principal offender, an old and experienced
swordsman, and poor Max, who hardly
knew one end of the sword from the other.
And now he was dead, and saw everything
clearly, which could not or would not see
before, and repentance. as 1t but too fire.
auently does. came too late.
"At last arrived at the house, but went
up the stairs very slowly. and after much
hesitation knocked.
marie herself came to the door.
s'She was pale as death. | guessed at
once that she understood for what purpose
Max had left her so suddenly, and at such
an early hour.
Directly she saw me she shrunk back.
For some time she stood there immOvable
and trembling like au aspen leaf. She
dared not ask me ON what account had
come there. There she stood. with her
long. fair hair floating down her shoulders.
So young and so very beautiful. A few
hours ago. and she owned everything she
desired most in the world, and now of all
women she was most miserable.
And there | stood before her. gazing,
into her sweet, pale, terribly staring face,
and did not dare to move or speak word.
The words stuck in my throat and nearly
choked me.
"And then she fixed me with her eyes,
and that look of tear bust into nue. like melt
ing lead.
pelled to take my eyes off her and look upon
the ground. When l ventured to allow
them to stray back again. it was easy to
see that Marie Oppenheim. guesscd-nay,
knew all.
MAX is dead" she shrieked, putting
her hand to her heart, as IL that one effort
had made it case to beat.
IL said nothing. There was wild, hys-
terical sob. and then, falling upon her
knees she moaned ont prayer. After that
IL shall never forget that scene to the
day of my death. Nothing ! have ever
seen on the stage-nothing l have ever
read in bOOks-nOthing have seen in pic
tures-has ever come near it ia depth and
intensity.
II don't know exactly how long 1 re-
manned there. l was more than halt stupe-
tied with grief myself
".You are very kind, she said. but don't
understand me. Max is dead, and that is
all care to hear or know: 1t was l who
sent him to you. | believed-hoped-tha
happily You would save his life; but God
wiiled it otherwise. He loved him SO much
that He robbed me of my husband, and has
taken him to Himself There is one thing
want now-my husbands body. 1t belongs
TO met is mine! l alone Will watch over
i'll alone will lay it in its cofiin-and
alone will follow it to the grave. Bid them
fully that no one shall disturb the last few
hours that l. Maria Oppenheim, have to
spend with my darling boy. Sir, beg-I
impl0re yOu-tO allow this
"What could | say!
Il gave her his last letter. aud left her,
as she bid me.
"Night after night | watched the house
from my balcody opposite. 1t was bitterly
cold, but there l stood and watched, and
scalding were the tears l shed for her who
sat desOlated in the room in which a light
burned on through the long night into the
morning again.
NV house was terribly close TO her, and
I heard everything. | heard her awful
shrek when they led her away and she had
seen his face for the last time, and heard
the dull thud of the hammer and the click
of the cruel nails.
I'VE followed, all of us. but alar off and
away from her, for she had begged to be
alone with him at the grave.
The next day, hearing and knowing that
Max's widow was desperately poor, /
wrote to her, notifying what we had ar
ranged to do among ourselves for her
..She wrote back declining all assistance,
and within few days had left Heidelberg,
no one knew where. l tried in vain to dis
cover her whereabouts; but not long after
ward | myself had completed my university