The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-07-05
TWO DIFFERENT DUELS.
ONE ACCORDING TO THE CODE. THE
OTHER AT VARIANCE WITH 1T.
sword Play with a Frenchman. and
Rifle Practice with Desperate
In the Everglades of Florida.
Lucky in Both.

from Chambers Journal
Though I am perhaps the least quarrel
some man in the world. 1t has been my
fate to fight no less than two duels. One
/ I confess to have sought; the other was
thrust upon me; both occurred during
the nineties Of this nineteenth century.
In each received some bodily hurt The
| first of my duels took place in a small
town in Southern France. I was a resi-
/ dent there for the winter. had a tiny
bachelor villa. and Through former ac-
| quaintance with the place. was on pretty
intimate terms with good many of my
/ neighbOrs There was an English ele-
ment in the place but the French, Of
course, predominated. and IT was with
the Frenchmen / usually found myself.
| The man with whom 1 fought was
/ provencal, born close by.
He was big, straggling fellow, lean.
and with a bright birds eye that was
always glitterng on you. He was a gem
/ tleman undoubtedly, had been educated
in Marseilles. and had never wandered
fifty miles from the Riviera coast. He
was probably the most narrow minded
man that ever lived and. on diet of books
and Anglophobe newspapers, he had i'm
bibed a blind ana poisonous hatred for
the British nation that was unique in its
compile teness. His name was D'Arblay,
and he called himself my friend.
This was the funny thing about the
man. He cultivated the society of Eng
lishmen, and individually IL think he
liked them. He was eternally running
down pertide Albion, but nobody took
much notice of that The Englishman
who lives abroad is so entirely confident
about the superiority of his own island
that he doesn't often break out in patri-
otto vein. 1t isn't his way. Besides, he
finds that one short plying smile often
serves his purpose better than whole
volume OF talk
Now, for two years l had endured D'Ar-
blay's revilings of my native land with
no more forcible retOrt than series Of
these plying smiles, and / think in the
end he began to hate me, for one day,
without warning, he started on fresh
topic which he must have known was
calculated to wound me deeply. He COM
menced to talk mild evil about some one
/ cared for very much indeed. and that
in a club house before the ordinary mixed
gathering of other men.
i warned him once, twict, and a third
time; and he always said that he meant
no harm, and turned off what l had said
with easy badinage and continued his
theme. But at last / saw, or thought 1
saw, his motive, and hot anger boiled
up in me.
~ ArbIay." / said III you want to fight,
say so like a man. But drop talking about
that girl or shall throw this inkstand
"Msieu." he retorted, II dispute your
right TO be the censor OF my conversation.
The lady ip question"
/ threw the inkstand.
The glass missed him. but the black
fluid spurted over his face. and the tech
meal insult had been given and received.
He bowed formally and left the club
house j spoke to a couple of my friends
and followed his example. Later he APP
pointed two seconds, and they consulted
with mine; and a time was fixed for the
meeting, and swords were chosen as the
weapons.
D'Arblay was an average swordsman. /
had seen him practice with matre
d escrime, and had gagged his powers
pretty we'll For myself, / knew of the
art of fencing absolutely nothing what
ever; and, when everything was snugly
arranged for the duel l thought Of this
fact with something more than annoy
ance. ! particularly did not want to be
killed, because-well, because a certain
lady had promised to marry me within
a short time, and I-well, 1 did not want
to disappoint her. And there was no
backing out Of the duel. One could afford
TO laugh at such a meeting In England;
but in France 1t is another matter. Even
the English winter residents would have
looked askance at me If | tried to olsen
tangle myself. Moreover, there was an
other thing, more dangerous than wounds
or death, and that was ridicule. A man
may put up with being killed, but he can
not endure being laughed at. So ! made
up my mind that, If D'Arblay did not dis
able me first / would leave my mark on
him in a way there was no installing Mind
/ did not want to kill the fellow, only
did not intend to be mixed up in an affair
which the newspapers could define IAN
other boodless encounter" and dismiss
with a jeering paragraph.
So, to sum up, / went on the field de-
termined on forcing a serious fight, and
a good deal fearing lest l myself should
be the one TO suffer.
We drove out to the place Of meeting
in the early morning. with a keen mis-
trail blowing which chilled one to the bone.
The others arrived simultaneously. There
was quite a congregation of us; four sec
onds, two doctors and the principals.
But D'Arblay, being a Frenchman, liked
the crowd, and / had to bow to the ETH
quette of the country.
No politeness could have been more
punctilious than ours, and none more
icy. We two principals stripped to shirt
and trousers, and l stood on the FROST
trimmed grass in my stocking feet. DAT
blay was opposite me, smiling grimly.
We saluted one another with the bare,
glittering rapiers, and second took up
position behind each of US, standing ready
with "a walking stick to knock up the
blades at the least sign Of a foul stroke.
At least so ] was warned. To myself /
was wondering what foul stroke" might
be, 50 ignorant was of the very elements
of fencing. But / said nothing about this,
and, when D'ATblay crossed blades with
mine, engaged MIN with Wnirling FURY.
The blue steel flashed and stabbed a
thousand circles in the chill morning air.
and a pang of fear gripped me by the
heart 1 seemed to feel his blade passing
through me in a hundred places Death
appeared inevitable. Every second I mar
yelled at finding myself alive.
To myself / accepted n mortal wound
as inevitable; but / lusted to get my own
blade through D'Arblay's body before I
was killed / could hardly see him Our
painting breath hung gray under the cold
morning sun, 50 that we fought in a clam
my mist. / lunged and passadoed. barely
guarding at all. fighting on the offensive
only, through sheer greed Of getting in
my blow before / was hors de combat.
Then, before / knew what was happen
ing, the duel ended I was conscious of a
feeling somewhere or other of a scar as
with a not iron. I understood that it
meant / was wounded. and duly wondered
where. though without being able to To-
cate the hurt. / saw the walking sticks
of the seconds uprise to beat down our
weapons, and at the same moment / heard
D'Arblay utter a Shrek of pain. heavy
cane FLASHED down on my blade, and
drew back nearly burst for want of
breath. These things take long to tell
but the whole of them happened within
I'll =E aH