Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1890-08-20
TWO DUELS TO DEATH.

lNU DUElN III DEAlH.
About sixty years ago I was in Paris
for the first time in my life. Bonaparte
still fingered at st. Helena; and the ad-
venturers, good, bad and Indifferent in
character, who had served in his armies,
had not yet lost all hope of the return of
their idol, and consequently had not yet
into thorough peace and uuietness.
Young Paul Ferrand, whom [ fire.
quently met at the cafe, and who had
served as a captain at Waterloo, was
sure that the Little Corporal would come
back again soon. "You have not yet
beaten him." he would tell me laughing
you sent him to Elba. but be returned;
you have sent him to ST. Helena, and he
will return again. We shall see."
Ferrand was an exceedingly nice fell
low; and, although he professed to
cherish an unquenchable hatred for En-
gland and everything English, he had,
by some means or other, become at
tached to Alice Rae, a young English
lady of my acquaintance, and who had
been living with her mother since the
conclusion of peace at Paris, not far
from the abode of the ex-captain.
And he was always very friendly with
me, too. He would, it is true, abuse my
countrymen numerically; but he was
particularly good-natured, and when
ever he found himself saying little too
much he would arrest himself and apoi-
ogize so heartily that / never could be
angry with him.
Twas alone in the French Capitol, and
had few friends there except Mrs.
Rae, her daughter Alice and Paul; and
SO it happened that / passed a good
deal of my time in the society of these
three.
The mother, woman still in the
prime of life, and the widow of a kings
messenger, was a connection of mine by
marriage, SO that fact gave me a good
excuse for offering my services as an
escort whenever she and her pretty
daughter thought fit to go to the theater
or the opera.
At such times Paul always had seat
in the stalls; and between the acts he
would come up to my box, to the de-
light of Alice, who was in love with him,
and to the no small satisfaction of Mrs.
Rae, who herself had quite a maternal
affection for the young Frenchman, and
did not III the least discourage his at
tentions to her daughter.
If there were no formal engagement
between the two, it was at least per-
fectly understood by all parties that as
soon as Paul should get all appoint
ment, for which at the time he was a
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 to appear, and new work by Il
renowned composer was to be per-
formed. But Paul Ferrand, sitting in
the stalls, scarcely seemed to listen to
much more often were his eyes turned
in the direction 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 u.s. 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 [ 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 his place. 1t was IN the center
of the second row from the orchestra,
and he had left bis opera glasses on the
chair in order to preserve his right to
it; but during his absence tall military
looking man had appropriated it, and
had coolly put the glasses on one side.
Paul approached the stranger with
the utmost politeness, and, [ suppose,
for naturally l could not hear, requested
him to move.
The interloper did not deign to an
swer, but sneeringly looked up at Fer
rand 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 continued to appear as though he
did not hear. [ saw that matters were
assuming dangerous complexion, for
in the newcomer | recognized Victor
Laroquiere, an ex-Bonapartist officer
like Paul, notorious bully, and one of
the most celebrated duelists in France.
But what could | do? / COLD only sit
still, much against my will, aud witness
the inevitable consequences.
/ thought Alice would faint when
Laroquiere IN the calmest way rose be-
fore the crowded assemblage and struck
Paul in the face with his glove; but she
recovered herself, and like statue
watched her lover pick up his opera
glasses, bow to his insulter and, without
a word, leave the building.
There were some exclamations from
the audience, but the dueIist again rose,
and with theatrical air gazed round,
mockingly initiated Paul's parting bow,
and resumed his seat. This was too
much for poor Alice. She could not re-
main any longer; she must go home;
and so, with some difficulty, / got her
and her mother to my carriage, told
the coachman to drive them home, and