Year: 1867

| 1900 1NN'hNi WIN mo


cousin Andre de Rrissac began. Th


quarrel was about woman. The wo


man who followed the footsteps of Phil
| ip of Orleans were the cause of many


such disputes; and there was scarcely on,


far head in all that glittering throug


which to man yersed in social histor'


les might not have seemed bedabbled


with blood.


| shall not record the name o. lier fol


love of whom Andre de Brissac and


crossed one of the bridges, in the din


August dawn, on our way to the waste
ground beyond the church of st Ger.


main des Pres.


There were many beautiful vipers in


those days, and she was one of them.
can feel the chill breath of that August
morning blowing in my face as l sit in
my dismal chamber at my chateau of Puy
Yerdun tonight, alone in the stiffness,
writing the strange story of my lite. l
can see the white mist rising from the
river, the grim outline of the chatelet,
and the square towers of Notre Dame
black against the pale gray sky. Even
more wildly can | recall Andres fair
young face, as he stood. opposite to me
with his two friends-scoundrels both,
and alike eager for that unnatural fray
We were a strange group to be seen in a
summer sunrise, all of us fresh from the
he at and clamor of the Regents saloons
Andre i'll a quaint hunting dress cop
led from a family portrait at Puy Yer
dun, | costumed as one of Laws Miss,
isslppi Indians; the other men in like
garish frippery, adorned with broideriers
and jewels thai looked wan in the pale
light of the dawn.


Our quarrel had been fierce nne-a
qulrrel which could have but one result,
and that the direst | had struck him
and the welt raised by my open hand
was crimson upon his fair womanly face
as he stood opposite me. The eastern
sun shunc on the face presently, and
dyed the cruel mark with deeper red
but the sting of my own wrongs was
fresh, and | had not yet learned to des-
pise myself for that brutal outrage.


To An1re de Brissac such an insult was
most terrible. He was the favorite of
fortune, the favorite of women, and | was
uothing--a a rough soldier who had done
my country good service, but in the bou-
doir of Parabere manueress boor


We fought, and | wounded him NOR
tally Life had been very sweet for him;
and | think that frcLzy of despair took
possession of him when be felt the life
blood ebbing away he bcckoucd me to
hip as he lay on the grousd / went,
and knelt at his side.


"Forgive me, Andre" murmpred.


He took no more heed of my words
than if that piteous eptreaty lad been
the idle ripple of the river,near at hand


"Listen to me, Hector dc Brissae," he
said. Il am not one who believes that
a man has done with earth because his
eyes glaze and his jaw stiffens They
will bury me in the cid vault at Puy
Nerdun; and you will be master of the
chateau. All, ! know how lightly they
take things in these days, and how Du-
bois will laugh when he hears that Ca
has been killed in duel They will
bury me, and sing masses for my soul
but you aud | have not finished our af |
fair yet, my cousin. | will be with you
when yop least look to see mel, with
this ug ly scar upon the face that women
have praised and loved. l will come to
you when your life seems brightest.
will come between you and all that you
hold fairest and dearest,s My ghostly
hand shall drop poison il. your cup of
joy. Ny shadowy form shall shut the
sunlight from your life. Men with such
iron will as mine can dowhat they please,
Haeter de Brissac. 1t is my will to
haunt you when l am dead"


All this in short broken sentences he
whispered in my ears, l had need to
bend ry ear 70 his dying lips; but the
iron will of Andre de Brissac was strong
enough to do battle with Death, aad l
believe be said all he wished to say be-
fore his head fell back upon the velvet
cloak they had spread beneath him, new
er to be lifted again.


Z As he lay there you would have. ..fanci-
ed him fragile STRIPPING, too fair and
frall for the struggle called life; but there
are those who remember the brief man
hood of Andre de Brissac, and who can
bear witness to the terrible force of that
proud nature.


| stood boxing down at the young face