The Findlay Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Hancock County, Ohio) 1870-1881, 1877-12-14

1t was SO public.
You can only hope" | said. Il
will see you In the morning; but now
l must 60 back to him. and see that be
gets some Sleep"
''Tell him." cried Alice, THAT if be
:, is killed shall die. Come here directly
it is over Come even if he falls; you
must tell me about it. l must hear
everything" She buried her face in
her hands, and 1, escaping from the
unhappy sirl, hurried to Paul
He was still writing, and his hair
was in disorder, and his face pale when
he turned toward me. 81 am no COW
ard, but l am saying good-by to her,
for l shall die Tomorrow"
my dear fellow" exclaimed, ''you
will shoot Laroquiere, and be married
next month. You mus finish your
writing at once and go to bed. 1 will
sleep here tonight, for must see that
you turn out in time to morrow norm
ing; so be as quick as possible"
He wrote for another half hour, ad-
dressed the document to Alice Rae,
placed lock of his hair within it, and
after sealing it up, gave it to me.
"Give that to her,. he said, 'if Lar
oquiere kills me outright-and know
he will. If it were not for Alice, de
clare that l should be quite glad to
meet him. Now for bed"
He undressed, while lay down on
the sofa in the next room and lit cigar
for ! could not afford 10 sleep myself
Soon all was quiet, and 1 stole in to
zee Paul lying, as quiet as child, with
a smile on his face Probably, nay as
suredly, passed more comfortable
night than he did. Only with the
greatest possible difficulty could keep
awake, and the hours seemed to
linger forever. At last, however, day
light dawned, and ! called Ferrand, !
who woke refreshed and in compare
lively good spirits. After a hurried
breakfast We muffied ourselves up; l
placed flask of brandy, some powder
and bullets, and we sailed forth in the |
cold morniDg air. Scarcely any one
was abroad, except few sleepy watch
men. who seemed to make very shre I'd
guesses at the object of our expedition
and through the silent streets we went
for mile or so, until we reached the
meeting place.
Laroquiere and Delaraie were there |
before US. and my friend the surgeon
arrived Immediately afterward in his
cal risge, which waited near at hand. |
The pistols were produced and loaded.
Laroquiere chose one, and gave the
ether to Paul; and then the two men
took up positions at distance of 20
PAGES from each other, and waited for
Delaraie.
'Stayl" cried the bully, as his second
stepped back; ''let the young hound
listen to this. am not triffiing with
him; l shall shoot him only where he
wishes, for l am generous. paleul"
''If l do not kill you," said Paul,
quietly, 81 prefer to die"
"Then l shoot him through the
heart" coolly observed Laroquiere.
Il will teach others not to challenge
me-"
There was something to me unspeak-
ably horrible in the way in which these
last words were pronounced. / shud-
dered and looked at Paul. He smiled
at me, and at the same instant Dal-
araie gave the signal.
There was but one report, for Fer
rand's pistol flash = in the pan. The
poor fellow turned round toward me
with fixed eye and pale face, and with
the name of Alice on his lips, fell dead.
Laroquiere turned on bis heel. and de
parted quickly in company with Del
araie, while aided the surgeon in his
biief examination of Paurs body |
Surely enough, the bullet had passed
through his heart. He must have
died almos. instantaneously, for he did
not move after he fell, and the last
smile with which he had looked on me-
was still on his face. 1t was a melaD |
choly business in every respect. had
to break the news to Alice and her
mother. and the two ladies were SO
terribly overcome, that l feared the
shock would have some permanent eff |
feet upon their health. For my part,
I was obliged to hurry to England as
soon as possible, and Laroquiere,
heard, also got away and remained out
of France until the affair had blown
over.
kept up correspondence with Mrs
Rae, and was glad after time to hear
from her that Alice, though still terri
bly, upset, had learned to look with
certain amount of philosophy upon
her misfortune, and had to some extent
recovered her usual health, if not her
usual spirits. Meanwhile / settled
down in London, and, unable to for
get my Partisan habits, usually dined
at one of the then much frequented
taverns in Fleet street. The Cheshire
Cheese, which was then in much the
same state that il is now, was my fav
orite haunt; and there as months
passed by, l gradually picked up
few pleasant acquaintances, chief
among whom was an extremely well |
hammered young gentleman named
Barton, a man of independent means,
good family, and first-rate education.
One day after he had been dining
with me, the conversation turned upon
continental manners and particularly
upon dueling. As an illustration of
my adherence of the system, told nv
companion about poor Paul's death.
matter in which Barton appeared
much interested. He asked me a good
many questions about the parties con
cerned, and after expressing a.reuark |
ably strong opinion to the effect that
Laroquiere was blackguard, bid me
good night. went home to my rooms
in the Temple; and the next day. on
visiting the Cheshire Cheese, found no
Barton. He had lef. word with one
of the walters that urgent business had
called him away, but that he hoped to
see me on his rarurn Woabs -.oa