The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1877-11-30

happened that passed q good deal OF
my time in the society OF these three
The mother, a woman still in the prime
of life. and the widow of Kings mes
senger. was connection OF mine
by marriage, and that fact gave me a
good excuse for offering my services as
escort whenever she and her pretty
daughter thought fit togo to the theater
or opera. AT such times Paul always
had a seat in the stalls, and between the
acts he would come up to my box, to the
delight of Alice, who was In love with
him, and to the no small satisfaction of
Mrs. Rae, who herself had quite ma
ternal affection for the young French
man, and did not in the least discourage
his attentions to her daughter. III there
were no formal engagement between the
two, it was at least perfectly understood
by all parties that as soon as Paul should
get an appointment, for which at the
time he was candidate, he was to marry
Alice, and /, though only few years
her senior, was to give her away.
One night the opera-house was crowd
ed more than usual. A great singer was
appear, and new work by q re-
nowned composer was TO be performed
But Paul Ferrand, sitting in the stalls,
seemed scarcely to listen to the music
or to notice the acting and much more
often were his eyes turned in the direc-
ton of my box than in that of the stage.
Alice and her mother were with me; and,
as the curtain fell at the conclusion of
the first act, Paul came up to us. He
was in high spirits, for he had heard
that the Minister had decided to give
him the coveted post, and he expected
to hear in few days that his appoint
ment had been signed by the King. We
congratulated him; and, as he left US to
return to his seat, 1 whispered to him:
you'll be happy man in month or
two now, Paul" He smiled, and shut
| the door.
We watched him as he threaded his
way to bis place. 1t was in the center
of the second row from the orchestra,
and he had left his opera glasses on the
chair in order to preserve his right to it,
but during his absence a tall, military
looking man appropriated it and had
coolly put the glasses on one side. Paul
approached the stranger with the ut
most politeness, and l suppose-for nat
urally could not hear-requested him
to move. The interloper did not deign
to answer, but sneeringly looked up at
Ferrand. as though to ask him what he
meant by his intrusion. Paul pointed
to the opera-glasses; but the stranger
neither replied nor moved, but con-
tinued to appear as though he did not
hear. 1 saw that matters were assum-
ing dangerous complexion, for in the
newcomer L recognized Victor Laro-
quiere, an ex-Bonapartist officer like
Paul, notorious bully, and one of the
most celebrated duelists in France.
But what could | do? / could only sit
still much against my will, and witness
the inevitable consequences. / thought
Alice would faint when Laroquiere in
the calmest way rose before the crowded
assemblage and struck Paul in the face
with his glove; but she recovered her.
self, and like a statue watched her lover
pick up his opera-glasscs, bow to his in
suffer, and, without q word, leave the
| building. There were some exclama-
tons from the audience, bat the duelist
again rose, and, with q theatrical air,
gazed round, mockingly initiated Paul's
parting bow, and resumed his seat.
This was too much for poor Alice. She
could not remain any longer; she must
go home and so, with some difficulty, l
got her and her mother to my carriage,
told the coachman to drive them home,
and myself walked quickly to Paul's
| lodgings.
He had arrived before me, and was al
ready writing when entered his room.
"Of course" he said, as he saw me, and
came toward me with both hands out
stretched, "you, my dear friend, will
assist me. 1t is impossible to do any.
thing but fight Even Alice could not
make me alter my conviction upon that
point, the insult was 30 public"
Suppose you leave the country" 1
suggested.
"Then I should have to give up the
| appointment and Alice, too. No, my
dear fellow, am Frenchman, and
must fight; and you must arrange mat
tiers for me. If he shoots me, it cannot
be helped; if shoot him, I shall have
shot the biggest scoundrel in Paris. L
beg you to call upon Laroquiere to-
night. L have already discovered his
address. Here it is."
But must you really fight? 1t is
suicide to fight with professional
duelist"
"Ah," he said, shaking his head, "I
am afraid it is suicide; but 1 must fight;
so please don't try and persuade me that
L need not And L will fight, too, as
soon as possible. You can arrange
everything for tomorrow morning. L
must have the matter over. In day or
two l might be coward"
BY his looks he implored me to go to
Laroquiere; and, constituted as French
society was at that time, had no other
course open to me than to do as he
wished.
eff Monsieur come from M. Paul Fer
rand" said a man-servant when l in
quired whether L could see his master,
an. Laroquiere has sent to say that he
has not yet left the opera. He has, how
ever, sent this penciled note, which 1
am to give to the gentleman who comes
from M. Ferrand.
tore open the missive. 1t contained
two cards, one bearing the name of the
duelist, and the second that OF M. Fer
nand Delaraie, Rue Vivienne Is. Ger