Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1892-10-12
NICETTE.
"You are dead manr' said the doc
L. 1 Il l. l.. Il

w ftlO " OCetQ lldut chiQ tllO oOC-
tor, looking intently at Anatole.
Anatole staggered.
He had come gayly to pass the even
ing with his old friend, Dr. Bardais,
the illustrious savant whose works on
venomous substances are known all
over the world, whose nobility of heart
and almost paternal goodness Anatolc
had learned to know better than any
other living soul; and now, without the
least hesitation or preparation, he heard
: this terrible prognostication issue from
those authoritative lips!
"Unhappy child, what have you done?'
continued the doctor
Nothing that know Of" stammered
Anatole, greatly agitated.
TAX your memory; tell me what you
have eaten or drunk-what you have in
hailed"
The last word was ray of light to
Anatole. That very morning he had re-
ceived a letter from one of his friends
who was travelling in India. In the let
ter was a flower plucked on bank of
the Ganges by the traveller strangely
formed red flower, the perfume of which
-he now recalled the fact vividly-had
appeared to him to be singularly pene-
trative. He hastily drew forth his pock-
etbook and produced the letter and its
contents and handed them to the savant.
"No doubt is possiblev cried the doc
tor; sit is the Pyramenensis indica-
the deadly flower, the flower of blood"
-really-think"@
ALAS! l am sure of it."
."But-it is impossible! | am only
five and twenty years of age and feel
full of life and health!"
cat what hour did you open that fatal
letter."
''This morning at o'clock"
"Well-tomorrow morning, at the
same hour, at the same minute, in full
health, as you say, you will feel pain
in your heart-and all will be over"
f"And you know Of no remedy-no
means Of
"None!" said the doctor.
And covering his face with his hands
he sank into q chair overcome by grief.
In face of the profound emotion Of
his old friend, Anatole understood that
he was really condemned.
He hurried from the doctors house
like inadman. His forehead bathed in
perspiration, his ideas all confused, 60
ing ho knew not whittier, he sped on
and on amid the darkness of the night,
taking no heed of the loneliness of the
streets he was traversing. For a long
time he pursued this blind course, until
at length, finding q bench, he sank down
upon it,
How many hours had he still to live?
The persistent and distressing sound
of a racking cough brought him back to
consciousness; he looked in the direc-
tien whence it came and saw, seated
upon the same bench, Il pale and weak
: little flower girl-a child not more than
eight years old, who, as Francois Cop
pee says
Dies Of the winter while offering us the spring.
That verse of the poets occurred to
the mind of Anatole; he felt in his
waistcoat pocket and found there two
sous and two louis. He was going to
give the poor child the two sous, but rec
oalecting that he had only a few hours
longer to live he gave her the two louis.
This incident did him good.
He had been like man stunned by
blow on the head; his sbewilderment was
overcome now and he began to reassem-
BILE his dislocated ideas.
my situation" he said to himself, sis
that of Il man condemned to DEATH A
man III that position may still, however,
hope for pardon-many of that sort are
pardoned in our days. In past times
even some have been saved from the ak
or the cord to devote themselves to some
difficult or dangerous piece of work-the
launching of Il ship, for example, or as
insthe time of Louis XI to marry an old
woman. Ii | were consulted in the
matter should prefer to launch ship
Unfortunately shall not be consulted
during the short interval of time that
remains to me. But, by the way, how
long have got to live?"
He looked at his watch.
"Three o'clock in the morning-it is
time to go to bed. To bed-waste in
sleep my last six hours! Not if know
it. | havo certainly something better
than that to do. But what? OF course
to make my will"
A restaurant-one of those which keep
open all night-was not far off. Ana
tolo entered it.
"Garcon, bottle of chanlpagne-an
ink and paper.
He drank a glass of Clicquotand looked
thoughtfully at the sheet of paper be-
fore him.
: ITO whom shall bequeath my 5000
francs year2 | have neither father nor
mother-happily for them! Among the
persons who interest me, see only one
---Nicette."
Nicette was charming girl of eight:
cen, with blond tresses and large black
eyes; al orphan like himself---a d com
munity in misfortune which had long
established between them secret and
complete sympathy.
His last will and testament was speed
lily drawn up; universal legatee, Nicette.
That done he drank second glass of
champagne.
''Poor Nicctte!" he unused; s'she was
very sad when last saw her Her
guardian, who knows nothing of the
world outside his class of wind instru-
nents at the Conservatoire de Musique,
had taken upon himself to promise her
hand 10 a brute of an amateur of fenc-
ing whom she detests-the more so be-
cause she has given her heart to some
body else. Who is that happy mortal?
haven't the least idea, but he is GER
tainly worthy of her, or she would never
have chosen him. Good, gentle, beauti-
full, loving Nicette deserves the ideal of
husbands. All! she is the very wife that
would have suited me if-if-
'sBy Jove, it's an infamy to compel
her to destroy her life-by confding such
treasure to such a brute! have never
before SO well understood the generous
ardor which fred the breasts of the
wandering knights and spurred them on
to the deliyerance of oppressed beautyl
And now come to think of it, what
hinders Inc from becoming the knight
errant of Nicette? Ny fate is settled
at 8 oclock-after that it will be too
late: now therefore is the time for ac-