The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1900-01-24
His Sweetheart.

One evening. in smart little cafe In
the Champs EIysees, two men sat sip
ping their absinthe and smoking. One
was an Italian, whose scrupulous care
in the matter Of dress was In striking
contrast to that OF his companion, a
Frenchman who had the appearance
Of being a dweller in the Latin quarter.
The Frenehman, who was the younger
Of the two, leaned forward and touch
ed his friend on the arm.
81 have proposition-a problem
to set to you, Mstteo."
''No confessions, beg Of you,
Pierre; my absinthe Is scarcely touch
ed, and your confessions, my dear friend,
are most distressing to one of my tenn
perament."
1T is nothing" said Pierre, "I just
want your advice. Supposing you
We're in love with a woman"
impossible, my dear Pierre, the
suppositio5."
"Well, supposing 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 wrinkled, decrepit old
wretch whose banking account and
title alone raise him to the dignity Of
mana being from whom she
shrinks every time he lifts her in his
arms and kisses her. What would you
do, Matteo?'
at depends, Pierre, how much you
love. Women are so wicked. Perhaps
they do not think it is wrong to marry
a man old enough to be their father or
grandfather. But you do, Pierre, and
at the bottom of my heart do. Can
you wait year-perhaps two years {?
Then she may be free again to marry
you"
mo" said Pierre, al can't"
"The deucel exclaimed Matteo.
"Then it's awkward"
you're right, MAtteD. That's the
point I've reasoned it out to. 1t is
awkward"
II might be better able to suggest if
you told me the wOman's name"
"Yes, perhaps you might" Pierre
answered thoughtfully. I'll be frank
with you. The woman is your sister,
MatteO, and love her."
During the pause which followed an
ugly gleam came into the Italians
eyes.
"Yon love my sister, be said, slow
ly, emphasizing each word. "YOu, a
FrenchmanI an unknown pIinter!
that is droll. II makes me laugh.
But my sister is not for you, you fool!
/ snap my fingers in your fAee"'
The Frenehman rose, and stepping
across to where his assailant was
seated, with the back of his hand
struck him heavy blow in the mouth.
In moment the italian was on his
feet, and as the two men closed a bright
weapon flashed in the Southerners
hand. But Pierre was too quick, and
grasped his treaeherOus opponents
wrist tightly.
Then, exerting all his strength, be
flung him into the corner Of the room,
where, with little grOan, he fell heav-
lily on the siiletto, which went deep
into his side. Immediately crimson
stain spread over the floor, aud Pierre
stepped back aghast.
"Pierre1' MatteO gasped. 81 have
something to say to you"
Pierre bent over him.
Nearer STILL" he murmured. "'Tis
hsrd-to talk"
Pierre knelt down.
"What is it?' he asked.
This" said Matteo, a. with last
effort be drew Pierre down 10 him, aud
the stiletto from his side
plunged it twice rapidly into his Op-
ponent's back.
''She is not for you"
A cruel smile Of triumphant mOckery
crossed the Italians face.
Then both fell back dead.
And month later one Of the live
liest women in PAris-a woman with
cheeks like sun-kissed peaches was led
to the altar by a tottering old man,
with features distorted by vics and
and with one foot in the
grave. IL WAS Pierre's sweetheart.