Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1890-06-02
ONE GENT
during two long hours. He was think

n Aght TAP suunueu On the door.
Armand. I" said q soft voice, II am
going 10 bed. Baby Is asleep. and have
locked everything up safe and sure. Do
not work too late-you must not tire
yourself. dear.
The words recalled him from his rev.
erie. He cast his eyes ON the paper be-
fore him; it was blank.
"Come. he muttered. II must get to
work, and seizing pen he wrote with
feverish haste, filling Ave or six pages
without raising his head. Suddenly he
stopped He had just written these
words, placed by him in the mouth OF
one of the characters in his novel: "And
if you are seeking a duel, you shall have
one"
"A duell" he cried; -why, am going
to fight one myself.
And vision of the morrow flashed be-
fore his eyes. He saw the clearing, the
group of seconds, two men dressed in
black facing each other, and their pis-
tolls pointed toward the grass, waiting
for the signal, while the sunbeams fit
cred through the trees and the birds on
the branches chanted joyously
Suddenly the picture changed.
A man, pale and with closed eyes, lay
stretched ON a litter, while one of the
carriers stood knocking at door. The
door was his owni And the woman who
ran to meet the funeral cortege-- tho
trembling creature who, with a terriblecry
threw herself ON the corpse-he recog-
nized, too, 1t was Claudine.
l.
up and down the room. 1t was true. On
the morrow he was to fight. On tho
morrow, pistol in hand, hewould be risk
ing his own life to take another's.
His life! Great Godl did it belong to
him. Had he the right to dispose of 10
Did he not owe it, as much as money, to
those who depended upon him9 Wero he
dead what would be the fate of his wife
and children, thrown helplessly upon the
mercies of his terrible creditorsg ? He had
no money. There was not hundred
francs in the house. His sole fortune was
in his pen, his talent, his brain. Where
would they be tomorrow
And his little wife, so fragile, 80 deli
cate, what was in store for her? The
hospitall And after thatf And his
children-G Georget 50 bright, 80 happy, 80
intelligent; his little girl, his merry fairy
what would become of them9
Fougeret continued to pace nervously
up and down the floor. The veins in his
temples throbbed until they seemed ON
the point of bursting. He moistened his
handkerchief and wound it about his
head. The cold water helped 10 cool his
burning brain. Now he saw it all clearer.
He had exaggerated the situation; duel
was not necessarily fatal. Had he not
already fought three of them, and was
he not alive on the eve of the fourth
Yes but then he was alone in the world.
His life was his own; he had the right TO
dispose of it as he pleased. He had given
no portion of his life toa wife; no children
TO leave behind, fatherless, penniless. and
helpless. And as these thoughts again
began to surge through his aching brain,
he fancied he could see the shining bar
rel of pistol, with the little round dark
hole aimed directly between his eyes.
He tried in vain to change the current
of his thoughts. They refused to vanish.
He was responsible for the care OF those
he loved. They lived by him, and they
would perish without him. The ball that
struck him would take more than one
life. There would be three other victims
three to whom he owed love, happiness,
and bread. Good God, how terrible it all
was
But another idea, equally horrible,
crossed his mind.
His honori
Heknew his comrades and the incredu-
Ious fianeurs OF the boulevard. He heard
their comments and their pitiless raillery.
What word were they pronouncing
"A cowardl" No, it was impossible. He
surely would find some one of his COM
panions who would defend him. Men are
good at heart Some one would be found
who could understand.
Armand, came an anxious voice from
the adjoining room, are you troubled9
You have been talking TO yourself for 0
whole hour. You are not illS"
SNo, no, my dear, he replied, going to
The door, do not worry. III amw
Ing" an,
aAh, that is well, said Claudine with
a sweet smile. Then, as she dropped her
long lashes over her slumber heavy eyes,
she murInured: @Think what--would be-
come Of us-if you were tO-get sick
the little ones-and me. Baby--is asleep.
Goodnight and the loving wife
resumed her interrupted dream.
At the other end Of the room, safely
tucked lin his little crib, smiling and peace
full, with his little hands tightly clasped,
little Georget slept.
A sudden torrent Of tears burst from
Armands eyes and wet his cheeks. He
rushed into his studio, seized sheet OF
paper, and wrote.
The next morning at half past ten, q
man, irreproachably attired in black,
stood ON the field at Vezinet, and with
An agitated air held out letter TO another
parsonage, equally anxious and no less
solemn.
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