Evening star., 1922-07-23
Translated From the French
BY WILLIAM l.. MCPHERSON.


~ r. HoNTANET always car
ried q certain knife with
him. 1t was q bizarre imple-
ment, more of a poignard
than a knife. The single blade had
the Spanish word "recuerdo" cut in it
near the base. The handle was Of
horn and decorated with loud-colored
flowers There was a ring attached
to it. In all 1t must have been about
eight inches long and didn't seem
made for play. Hontanet had been
struck in the back with this knife,
one summer night. on a lonely road.
He Just escaped death. The would
be murderer-an unknown nomad
who only wanted his victims purse
had failed in his purpose. The soli-
tary passer-by whom he had attacked
lad turned on him suddenly and fred
two or three bullets at him. Tho
nomad fled hurriedly, without even
picking up his arm.
The police had never been able to
find the man. Hontanet. who was
then a student of medicine. slowly
recovered. But he carried on his back
a memento of the attack, and all
sypsies were for him objects Of
very legitimate resentment
Later he was a doctor Of medicine
and the mayor Of his village. People
observed without surprise-for they
knew the story of the knife-that
gypsy wagons rarely stopped in the
village. Every time Hontanet noticed
one of these wanderers he examined
him closely, drew the knife from MS
pocket under some pretext and care
fully noted whether the sight OF the
weapon troubled the nomad He had
q strong desire to catch his assailant
and give him a term in prison.
But the years passed and he dlont
discover the would-be assassin. The
knife, at first stained with blooo'
then attacked by rust, had become
little by little. an ordinary pocket
piece, with a polished blade ana a
shining handle. The owner USED II
for ono thing or anothe@to sharpen
, mcneil cut the leaves of book or
peel a pear.
oNE winter day there was knock
~ at the door. A woman IN rags
said to the servant:
"Is there q doctor here? Ny father
sick, very sick. Doctor come see Ill.,
for the love Of heaven"
"where is he?"
ION the road. In the wagon
show him the way"
The servant reported to the master.
"Gypsies?" said the latter. I'll go.
He started Immediately. He was
then sixty-five years old. He was
bent, rheumatic. feeble, ripe for the
But he walked Win
relatively quick step. for a new gypsy
that interested him. On the way
he talked with the woman.
whats the matter with your
father?''
Fever. Very sick. Maybe die"
die! How old 10 he."
Eighty years"
'What Is his name? Il he Span
iard?'
"Oh! no monsieur"
IAN Italian?"
ooh! no monsieur. He is French.
Good Frenchman! Doesn't like the
boches!"
Good. good! We shall see."
They arrived. A cheap-looking
wagon stood alongside the road, near
a stream. There was q little win
dow at the front, with red curtains.
At the rear was q ladder with three
steps. permitting one to enter. The
doctor climbed in.
A pile Of ill-smellinS clothes In
corner. On the pile an old man.
bearded and shaggy. with skin
which resembled moldy leather.
well. my good fellow. you aren't
well. Where does It pain you7" -.
The gypsy pointed to his chest and
then to his head.
stick out your tonguew.
The man showed a yellowed strip
of flesh between his black gums.
"Give me your wrist. 80 that can
feel your pulse"
The man held out his wrinkled
wrist. The veins were swollen, like
blush earthworma He looked Ill.
There were strange lights In his eyes
and ugly burrows at the cernsrs Of
his lips. The doctor asked himself:
ur. a. -- A-a~A>Apo