The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1897-07-07
OUR SUICIDE.

OUR SUICIDE.
first met Malvina under the chestnut
trees Of tho Luxem bourg, near the stone
wall where II II said Lamartine wept over
Grasiella. When / saw her, II was a. II 9
.thunderboit struck me. laid my heart,
my 20 years, my little purse 1T Malvina's
feet. Malvina made face. ! did not no.
tice It, because I loved her. She oonde-
sccnded, however, to accept breakfasts uD-
der the arbor at virofay, invitations to
the theater and many articles Of her ward
robe. She gave me to understand that
would be the last Of men to DO loved II
did not present her with scorf, earrings,
a parasol-two. three parasols. ! saw my
last sou vanish. ! sold my only armchair,
my foils and two volumes bound in hol-
land, the latest poems of the bon Dieu--
1t was thus we named Victor Hugo. !
was Obliged to conflde the care Of my
watch to one of those hospital houses
which the English call my UNCLE" the
French term my aunt, the bourgeois the
"Mont de Pieto" (although there Is moth
Ing pious about them), and which we stu
dents baptized "the nail" with graphic
simplicity. I raised money on my law
books. Malyina also appropriated my
sleeve buttons, my new hat and the queen
of mi, pipes. She had way of saying
"Does my big dog wish to please his little
Malvinnp" which was Irresistible.
When she found that ! was without
money, without credit and even In debt,
= having vaiuly exhausted the resources Of
my Imagination to extract from my par.
ents an addition to my allowance, she left
me calmly, without On excuse, without
word Of pity, without shadow Of shame.
She was Of that class Of women called lion
esses, doubtless because they know how to
consume men. And l loved herl What
despairl She had moved away, they told
me, to distant, almost UNEMPLOYED parts,
which vague and mysterious expression
described the Latin quarter, "the right
bank" walked with my grief In the
shade Of the garden where had met her.
How dismal 1t was there nowl There
were many promenaders children, lovers,
but 1t seemed to me deserted.
my life Is onded," said, with the
naiyete of 20 years Everything is
changed, everything is hollow. Why am
There! ] can never again he Interested in
anything" Iresolved to die There was
nothing left to do but choose suitable
way to disappear.
Fumes of charc0all That was tho mode
Of suicide for girls. The dagger was very
much used. The dramas of the day were
full of Venetian, Florentine, Arabian,
Castilian daggers, Spanish dirks and Da-
mascus swords, with which the actors
killed themselves very dccently behind the
scenes, and even on the stage. But had
no money to buy digger. There was the
rope. That was vulgar. Then, too, the
hanged are so ugly. There remained poi
son, but what poisonY Arsenic was b0ur-
geois, very bad form. The poison of the
Borgias would have suited Inc. Many
novels spoke of 1t. But the recipe seemed
to be lost. Should l jump out Of the win
dowp To frighten women and soil tho
sidewalk! No. Die of starrationP had
too good an appetite finally decided on
a very simple and economical method, ono
which the mild weather, ii was spring,
made seasonable would drown myself.
1neither breakfasted nor dined on the
day of my suicide. smoked my last pipe,
my stock Of tobacco being exhausted. At
nightfall l walked down toward the Seine.
The water was black The full moon
threw ON the river silyery light. Walk
ing at random J arrived at the Pont des
Arts and resolved to end there a life which
was intolerable to me without Malvina.
The place seemed propitious. The bridge
was deserted. Not a boat. Not lantern.
/ leaned against the balustrado and
looked at the water running like flood Of
Ink. 1t dashed against the piers l
breathed the night air. "This is the last
time" / said to myself, land it is such a
lovely EVENING""
Thought quickly Of all was leaving,
of my parents, my friends, the poetry that
inspired me- Of my youth, and also of my
immortal soul. placed all these on ono
side and my recollections of MalviDa on
the other, and the latter were the more
weighty. They turned the scale. Tears
came to my eyes. II must die. Goodby
ALI One name more Is about to be added
to the martyrology Of love-"
Love! This is the holy name that q
youth was giving to his miserable passion,
to the absurd ohiid's play which was lead
ing him to death. 1t is only later that we
learn that love lives by sacrifice; that it Is
the brother of hope, and that. far from
killing, it gives strength to live.
l graspcd the balustrade and was pre-
pairing to leap, when, suddenly, noticed
man standing near me on the bridge
about 80 feet away. Could one not even
kill himself without being interrupted
Had no come here to play tho spy No.
He did not even seem to see me. He was
looking down at the water. The moon
light was so bright that could see tho
details of his person and his clothes dis
tinctly. Like me, he wore . large Rem
brandt hat, long tailed coat and trousers
narrowing at the foot. He had red silk
handkerchief, long hair, full beard, a
youthful form. He was student, an art
ist, doubtless q novelist, a brother, like
Hugo What was he doing there7 He
was gazing at the Seine. He raised his
eyes to heaven, passed hts hand sadly
across his forehead, breathed rapidly, took
o few steps to the right, then to the left
and stopped In the main arch, and seemed
to measure the distance with bis eye
Was he about to commit suicide too2 We're
all the young men killing themselvesY
The Latin quarter would soon be depopu-
lated. was vexed. Had not selected
this bridge for my personal uSe' Why had
he not chosen the Pont Neufp However,
although the unknown disturbed ME,
felt q certain sympathy for this brother In
suicide. He appeared to be about my age,
and perhaps similar motives had brought
him there. The stranger threw down his
hat, looked at the moon, passed his right
leg over the balustrade. In three bounds
was upon him and pulling his coattail:
What are you doing, monsieur Are
you nads"
He struggled.
LET me alone"
seized him around the body and held
him.
"Let me alone. Attend 10 your own
nfiairs. This Is disgusting. What are you
here forP Go away"