Republican news item. [volume] (Laport, Pa.) 1896-19??, 1899-01-12


the Champs Elysees, two men sat sip
ping their absinthe and smoking. On
was an Italian, whose scrupulous car,
in the matter of dress was in striking
contrast to that of his companion,
Frenchman, who had the appearance
of being a dweller in the Latin quar-
ter. The Frenchman, who was the
younger of the two. leaned forward and
touched his friend on the arm.
Il have propositions problem-to
set to you, Matteo.'
''No confessions, beg of you, Pierre;
my absinthe is scarcely touched, and
your confessions, my dear friend, are
most distressing to one of my tempera-
ment"
1T is nothing" said Pierre, Il just
want your advice Supposing you
were in love with {, woman"
Impossible my dear Pierre; the sup
position you arc starting with is i'm
possible"
We'll, supposins. this woman you
loved went the way of other women,
and confessed to you that, although
she loved you, she intended becoming
the wife of wrnkled, decrepit old
wretch whose banking account and
title alone raise him TO the dignity OF
a mana being from whom she
shrinks every time. he lifts her in his
arms and kisses her. What would you
dc, Matteo?"
ut depends, Pierre, how much you
love. Women are so wicked. Perhaps
they do not think Il is wrong TO marry
a man Old enough TO be their father or
grandfather. But you do, Pierre, and
!. the bottom OF my heart | do. Can
you wait year-gerhaps two years?
Then che may be .ree again to marry
you
mo" said Pierre, Il cant"
"The deuce." exclaimed Matteo.
Then It, awkward"
Your right, Mltteo. That's the
point I've reasonel it out to. 1t is
awkward"
L might be better able TO suggest
if you told me the woman's name"
Yes, perhaps you might" Pierre an
swered thouehtfully. I'll be frank
with you. The woman is your sister.
Matteo, and l love her.
During the pause which followed. an
ugly gleam came into the Italians
eyes.
You love my sister," he said, slowly.
emphasizing each word. You. a
Frencnman! an unknown painter. that
is droll. 1t makes me laugh. But my
sister is not for you, you fool! snap
my fingers in your facet"
The Frenchman rose, and stepping
across to where his assailant was seat
ed, with the back Of his hand struck
him heavy blow in the mouth.
In a moment the Italian was on his
feet, and as the two men closed bright
weapon flashed in the Southerner's
hand But Pierre was too quick, and
grasped his treacherous opponents
wrist tightly.
Then, exertlng all his strength, he
dung him into the corner Of the room,
where, with little groan, he fell heav-
lily on the stiletto. which went deep
into his side. Immediately crimson
stain spread over the floor. and Pierre
stepped back aghast.
"Pierre." Matteo gasped. Il have
something to say to you."
Pierre bent over him.
Nearer STILL" h. murmured. "'Tis
hard-to taxi
Pierre knelt down.
What is it?" he asked.
"This," said Matteo, as with last
effort he drew Pierre down to him,
and withdrawing the stiletto from his
side plunged II twice rapidly into his
opponents back.
.'She is not for YOU
A cruel smile of triumphant mockcry
crossed the Italians face.
Then both men fell back dead.
And a month later one Of the live
liest women in Paris-a woman with
cheeks like sun-kissed peaches, was led
to the altar by lettering old man,
with features distorted by vice and
dissipation, and with one foot in the
grave. 1t was Pierre's sweetheart.