The Press., 1889-10-03
THE FATAL FLOWER.
''You are dead man," said the doctor, looking fixedly at Anatole.

looking fixedly at Anatole.
 Anatole was astonished.
 He had come to spend the evening with his old friend, Dr. Bardais, the illustrious savant, whose studies of poisonous plants had made him famous. It was not his fame, however, which attracted Anatole to the doctor, but his nobility of heart and almost parental kindness. And now, sud denly, without any preparation, the young man heard this terrible prognostication from the lips of so grest an authority.
 Unhappy boy" continued the doctor, "what have you done?"
 Nothing that know of," stammered Anatole.
 "Think. Tell me what you have drunk, what you have eaten, what you have in haled!''
 This last word was like ray of light to Anatole. That very morning he had re. ceived a letter from 8 friend who was travelling in India. In this letter he found flower which the tourist had plucked on the banks of the Oranges, an odd-looking, little red flower, whose, odor he remem- bered, seemed to him to be strangely pun gent. Anatole looked in his pocket-book and took therefrom the letter and the flower which he showed to the savant.
 "There is not doubt" exclaimed the doctor. 'It is pyramenensis Indica! the fatal flower of blood!'
 'You really think SOP"
 ''Alas! am certain.''
 "But it IS not possible that it should prove fatal to me. am only twenty-five years old, am strong and in the best of health."
 "At what hour did you open this fatal letter?'
 'At 9 o'clock this morning."
 Well, tomorrow morning, at the same hour, at the same minute, in full health, as you say, you will feel peculiar pain in your heart, and that will end all"
 And you know of no remedy, no means of-'
 'None," said the doctor.
 Then, clasping his head in his hands, the savant fell inta chair, overcome with grief.
 The emotion of his old friend convinced Anatole that he wss inded doomed. He departed at once; he was almost insane.
 A cold sweat on his forehead, his ideas confused, walking mechanically, Anatole went forth into the night, unconscious of what was passing abovt him. For a long time he walked thus, then, coming to a bench, he sat down.
  time he had been like man who has sud- denly received severe blow on the head. At last, however, his mind seemed to clear and he began to gather his scatttered ideas.
 My situation," he thought 'is like that of man condemned to death. Such person, however, can still hope for mercy. But how long have to live?''
 He lOOked at his watch
 '"Three o'clock in the morning. It is time to go to bed. What! I go' to bed2 Give to sleep the last six hours of my life? No. I have certainly something better than that to do. But what? Why, have my will to make"
 Not far away was restaurant which was opened all night. Thither Anatole went.
 "Waiter, bring me pot of coffee and a bottle of ink" he said, as he seated him. self at the table,
 He drank cup of coffee, and, looking at the paper lying on the table before him, said:
 "To whom shall I leave my income of 30, 900 francs? I have neither father nor mother. Among the people in whom I am interested there is only one to whom I care to leave my money-Nicette."
 Nicette was Anatole's second cousin, charming girl of eighteen years, having golden hair and large dark eyes. Like him she was an orphan, and this similar bereavement had long since established bond of sympathy between them.
 His will was quickly drawn up. He left everything to Nicette.
 That done, he drank second cup of coffee
 ''Poor Nicette!" he thought, "she was very sad the last time I saw her. Her guardian, who knows nothing beyond the wind instruments which he teaches pupils of the conservatory to play, did not do right in promising her hand to 0 brute, all the more because she loves someone else, if have been able to understand her reticence and her embarrassment. Who IS this happy mortal? I know not, but he is certainly worthy of her since she has chosen him. Good, sweet, beautiful, lov- ing Nj ,ette deserves the best of husbands Oh! if she might have been my wife! It IS outrageous to force her to morry a man she hates, to ruin her life by entrusting such a treasure to the care of brute But why may not be Nicette's champion? I will be. will undertake the matter to- morning. But tomorrow will be too late. l must act at once. It is an un- hour to see people, but as T. shall die in five hours cannot consider their convenience. It is decided! My life for Nicettel'
 Anatole left the restaurant ond hastened to the house of M. Bouvard, the guardian of Nicette.
 It was four o'clock in the morning when he rang the bell. Once, twice, three times he rang. At last M. Bouvard himself, as- his night cap on his head, open ed the door.
 "What's the matter?" he asked. "Is there 6re?"
 "No, my dear M. Bouvard," replied Anatole. "I have come to call on you,"
 ''At this hour?''
 "Al hours are good in which one can see you, M. Bouvard. But you are in your night clothes; you had better return to bed"
 'That is what I'm going to do." And then leading Anatole to his chamber, he continued: 'But I suppose since you have aroused me at this hour, that you have something important to say to me"
 Every important. It is necessary, M. Bouvard, that you give up the idea of marrying my cousin Nicette to M. Cap- denac.
 Never! never!''
 "You must not say never."
 My resolution is taken; this marriage shall take place."
 sSTt shall not tako r,looo