Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1888-07-14

to take place, l found, at spot knew. in
a wood just without the town walls. where
the ruins Of an old abbey stood on grassy
lawn. " l shall see you in the mornipc >
| said, and with the promise wrung lis
hand and left him.
l went back to my own room, and.
dressed as | was, threw myself on the bed.
Not for Il moment did I intend that this
lnlqmtous duel should so on. At earliest
dawn proposed to rouse the landlord, to
STIR up the city guard, if needful nay, TO
call out the town garrison itself, rather
than permit an act of criminal and I'M
necessary folly. All this, say, intended.
For while l lay wakeful and attentive :;
| heard chair pushed back in the adioin-
Ing room, and footsteps moving uncertainty
to and fro; then deep silence. The young
fellow, | concluded, had followed my adj
vice, and betaken himself to bed for an
hour or two. The town clocks struck three
and with the determination to rouse myself
at half-past four, l passed into profound
sleep. Alasl | was young; | was tired
out. At half-past five | fell into uneasy
dreams. l dreamed that had risen. that
had dressed in haste, that I had made
my way to the poor lad in the adjoining
room. He was seated in his shirt-sleeyes
on the edge of the bed. "Surelv it is not
time to go yet" he said, and he began to
cry like girl. | dreamed that / awoke
and turned to dream again, This time it
was the boy who came in to me as [ was
dressing hastily. It's all over" he cried
loyously. "Not soul was hurt. | start
for home at once" Thank God" [ an
swered, and with the words / awoke with
a start, woke in truth this time, sitting ND
on my bed bewildered for the moment. 1t
was broad daylight. / looked at NV
watch; it wanted but twenty minutes to 6.
| caught up my hat and burst into the ad
joining room. 1t was empty. On my
headlong way down the stairs stumbled
over my friend, the old waiter. In a
breath told him what had happened. and
rushed from the house
Irushed from the house, across the steep
arched bridge, through the town-gate, and
out into the wood beyond. Deep in the
heart of the wood stood the ruin; | had
not moment to lose. The rain had
ceased, but the clouds were still low and
threatening; | remember still hardly
noted at the time-the damp, gray morn
ing air, thick with mist, the drenched
weeds and grass, the trees weighed down
with moisture, powerless to rally in the
dense atmosphere. The road, grassy,
cart-rutted track, lay below me, winding
among the trees. 1t lay plain before me to
follow, but thought it would never end;
1t seemed Unfortunately long; | thought
that it would never end. l came upon the
scene suddenly at last; clear space, some
walls and high-springing arches on slender
columns, grassy level in front, stretching
from tree to tree on either hand. | had
visited it but yesterday and found it empty
of human life. To-day scattered group
OF men occupied the foreground | saw my
poor lad; | saw him stand as he had been
placed, and raise his pistol with shaking
hand, | uttered cry; he turned his face
for second. trembling smile on his
white lips. 81 am here, you see; it's all
right" he seemed to say. The next
moment there was report The pistol
dropped from his hand; he turned and fell
face downward, dead
The smile was still on his lips. Poor
lad, poor lad.-1smple Bar.