Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1901-12-11
An Affair of Honor


- WIN W "htiC lWdys AtiAs2 90 = 80 ia
her husbands return. AtS15osclock a
visitor was announced Capt Paul
Beauregard, an officer in theS French
Guards. He was an intimate friend Of
De Grantier, as we'll as rofsthe lady,
and scarcely day passed without,
their seeing him. ~ :.
my husband. Have yon seen any.
thing Of him?" she asked.
Il have been with him all the morn
ing, madame"
"JVhere is he? Why did he mot re
turn with you? How has heEbeen en-
gaged?" -!
Capt. Beauregard replied to s5he last
question: Y =
"In an affair of honor, madame"
"a duel?"
Eyes; and he has been wounded. I
thought it best 10 prepare you for the
accident" $.
"FIe is dead" shrleked the unhappy
lady, as she fell back in conVulsions,
for she had read the truth In the cap
tain's face.
Beauregard rang the bell and left
her in charge of her maid. while he
went into another room. Itwas:agony
bitter as the pangs Of death stos slisten
to her walls and sobs and shrielB; but
in an hour Florette, the waitingi imald,
rale, frightened. with swollen eyes.
for she, too, had been weeping bitter
ly, came to say that Madams de Gran
Tier was calmer and desired TO speak
with the captain,
The officer found the lady white as
marble, but strangely quiet and coll
lected, 49, "a n :ss.ls !,
Hector is dead?" She half asked,
half asserted. aslssts
Her friend dropped his eyes, The
answer was sufficient, 81 ~
"Now tell me. how this happened =
said the lady Hector was kind and
gentle and courteous, Hos had no enc
1ny-how could he have, forshe never
wronged human being"
THAT did not prevent his having an
enemy-a mortal foe-wbo last night
publicly insulted him and thussfoTced
challenge from your husband. n
cay, honor compelled Hector to draw
the sword. But the name OF that viii
iain-the ,nurderer?" -.
"Raoul Maltravers." I" 80.
"Fe. the man whose hand i rejected?
Oh, my poor, dear murdered Hector.
Why did we ever meet? Fatal was; the
hour In which you saw and loved me.
Often have your lips told esfhat u
had made you the happiest of mens
Little did you dream thatI would igivts
you death as well as love-, 81. Z: -
81 implore you, madam, said FFthe;
captain, not to view this. .strageds nc,
that light. An unforeseen calamity
has fallen on you, and my heart bleeds
at sight of your distress. But can
do more than pity; I can and will
avenge Hector. Raoul Maltravers dies
by my hand"
Hold" cried the widow, with sud-
den and startling energy. II forbid
you to espouse this quarrel. ] have
my own purpose of vengeance, and no
man, not even you, shall be permitted
to stand between me and my predes-
tined victim. He has robbed me Of
more than life, but will requite him
l was a fond, weak gentle. loving.
happy girl, They who know me hence
forth will know me as q tigIess thirst
ing for human blood. But no word of
this to others. Be my friend In this
extremity, as you were his true and
loyal friend to the last moment. and
conduct the funeral rites. You see how
calm | am when l can speak these
words without convulsions."
When Victorine was alone with her
dead she had wild outburst of pas
sionate grief, but it rapidly gave place
to calmress so stern that 1t would
have appalled, an observer had there
been witnesses in the chamber of
death. 49,;
Hector de Grantier," she said, ad-.
dressing the cold clay, eff my Creator
spares my life, your son, whom your
eyes were never to behold, shall be
your avenger. 1 will rear him strong,
valiant, skillful, and teach him to look
for no happiness, no rest, no employ
ment, until he has slain the man who
has robbed you Of life, me OF. hus-
band and himself of a father"
Two months after the funeral the
friends of the family were apprised
that the widow lady was the mother of
a-daughter. Shortly after this event
she retired with her infant child to an
estate in Brittany.
Sixteen years passed away and then
Nine. de Grantier, still wearing wild
ows weeds, again resumed her resi-
dence in Paris. She lived in fashion
able quarter, but in great privacy, re-.
ceiving only relatives, making no .ac-'
quaintances. Her daughter, Claudine,
had grown up beautiful girl, the pic
ture of health-a bright :. flower to
bloom in the almost conventual gloom
of her mothers house.
The only frequent visitor was the
young Chevalier de Hauteville, a COLI
sin Of Claudine, and strange to say,
perfect image of the girl-the same
height, features and complexion. The
gossips of the neighboThood said they
were born for each other and predicted
q marriage between the parties. But
the servants of the family asserted that
the old lady would never, for some rea
son of her own, probably that of near
ness of blood, permit the alliance, and
that the young people rarely, x ever,
met. 1t was observed that whenever
Claudine had gone to church the che
Waller was sure TO make his appearance
and when he was in the drawing room
she was always absent. Whether this
was arranged by the mother or wheth-
er this young woman and this young
nan, so strangely alike, cherished an
antipathy equally strange, was mys-
terry, like almost everything else in