The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1899-05-13
StX you are as good as dead" said
Y the doctor, looking steadily at
Il AnatOle

works in poisonous substances are so
well and favorably known, but one
whose excellence of heart and almost
fatherly kindness Anatole had been
able to appreciate more than any one
And now all Of sudden, without re
gard for his feelings, without being pre-
pared to hear it, the terrible prognOstic
IS uttered by so great an authority.
unfortunate fellow" continued the
doctor "what have you done?"
Nothing that l know Of" stammered
Anatole, greatly troubled.
"Try to recOllect. Tell me what you
have drank, what you have eaten, and
what you have breathed'
The last word spoken by the doctor
was a ray of light to Anatole. That
very morning he had received n letter
from one of his friends who was trav-
cling in India. In this letter had been a
flower plucked on the shores of the
Gauges by the traveler-a flower. red,
warped, and of bizarre shape, the odor
of which, he remembered well now, had
seemed to him strangely penetrating.
Anatole searched in his pocketbook and
took therefrOm the letter and flower in
question, which he showed to the sa-
want.
"Without doubt" exclaimed the doc
Tor, cit is the Pyramenensis 3ndica-
the fatal flower, the flower of death"
"Do you really think SOP"
81 am sure Of it,"
"But it is not possible. am only %
year old. l feel myself full of life and
health
'When did you open that fatal let
ter?"
Eat Q o'clock this morning"
''Well, tomorrow morning at the
same hour, indeed at the same mo-
ment, you feel sharp anguish at the
heart, and it will be all over with you"
"And do you not know any remedy,
any means Of"
'None," said the doctor, and hiding
his face in his hands he sank backward
in an armchair. choked with grief
From the emotion displayed by his
old friend. Anatole realized that there
was no hope. lie departed in dazed
manner.
With beads OF cold perspiration on
his brow and his thoughts confused.
Anatole moved along unconscious of
what was passing around him. and not
even suspecting that the streets were
becoming deserted He wandered a
long time thus; but at length, coming
TO a bench, he sat down.
The rest did him good. Until then
he had been like a man who has been
struck on the head with club The
effects of the shock were disappearing.
and he began now to collect his vagrant
thoughts.
"My plight" thought he, sis that of
a person condemned to death. Yet |
can still hope for mercy. BY the way,
how much longer have 1 to live?"
He looked at his watch.
at lacks three hours of morning. 1t
IS time | was in bed. l go to bed, in
deed! To devote the last sad hours of
my life to sleep! No. | can certainly
do better than that But what? Par
bleu! l have 1t. will draw up my
last will and testament"
A restaurant which remained open
all night was near by. Anatole enter
ed and sat down.
waiter, bottle of champagne and
q bottle of ink"
He drank a glass and looked at his
writing paper, rejecting: ITO whom
shall l leave my six thousand francs
income? | have neither father nor
mOther-a fact which is lucky for
them. And among the persons who
interest me l can think only of one
Nicette."
Nicette was one of his forty-second
cousins, charming young girl OF IS
years, with fair tresses and large. black
eyes. Like himself she was an orphan.
and this community of fate had long
ago established a bond of sympathy
between them. His will was speedily
drawn up. He left everything to
Nicette.
When it was finished he drank a sec
end glass of champagne.
''Poor Nicette," thought he. "Her
guardian, who knows little of the
world except his class, which he teach
es to play on brass instruments at the
Conservatory, has bethought himself
TO promise her hand to a brute, sort
of bully, whom she detests, because she
loves another, as she has avowed to me.
although with reticence and an en-
barrassed air. Who is this happy NOR
tai? But be must be worthy of her.
since she has fixed her affection on