The news of Louis’ death had gone abroad—not, perhaps, in all its details, but it was known, and Lucien’s appearance astonished many.
I requested a private room, saying that we were expecting the Baron3 Giordano, and we got a room at the end.
Lucien began to read the papers carelessly, as if he were oblivious4 of everything.
While we were seated at breakfast Giordano arrived.
The two young men had not met for four or five years, nevertheless, a firm clasp of the hand was the only demonstration5 they permitted themselves.
“Well, everything is settled,” he said.
“Then M. de Chateau6 Renaud has accepted?”
“Yes, on condition, however, that after he has fought you he shall be left in peace.”
“Oh, he may be quite easy; I am the last of the de Franchi. Have you seen him, or his seconds?”
“I saw him; he will notify MM. de Boissy and de Chateaugrand. The weapons, the hour and the place will be the same.”
“Capital, sit down and have some breakfast.”
The Baron seated himself, and we spoke7 on indifferent topics.
After breakfast Lucien begged us to introduce him to the Commissioner8 of Police, who had sealed up his brother’s property, and to the proprietors9 of the house at which his brother had lived, for he wished to sleep that night, the last night that separated him from his vengeance10, in Louis’ room.
All these arrangements took up time, so it was not till five o’clock that Lucien entered his brother’s apartment. Respecting his grief, we left him there alone.
We had arranged to meet him again next morning at eight o’clock, and he begged me to bring the same pistols, and to buy them if they were for sale.
I went to Devismes and purchased the weapons. Next morning, at eight o’clock I was with Lucien.
When I entered, he was seated writing at the same table, where his brother had sat writing. He smiled when he saw me, but he was very pale.
“Good morning,” he said, “I am writing to my mother.”
“I hope you will be able to write her a less doleful letter than poor Louis wrote eight days ago.”
“I have told her that she may rest happy, for her son is avenged11.”
“How are you able to speak with such certainty?”
“Did not my brother announce to you his own approaching death? Well, then, I announce to you the death of M. de Chateau Renaud.”
He rose as he spoke, and touching12 me on the temple, said—
“There, that’s where I shall put my bullet.”
“And yourself?”
“I shall not be touched.”
“But, at least, wait for the issue of the duel13, before you send your letter.”
“It would be perfectly14 useless.”
He rang, the servant appeared.
“Joseph,” said he, “take this letter to the post.”
“But have you seen your dead brother?”
“Yes,” he answered.
It is a very strange thing the occurrence of these two duels15 so close together, and in each of which one of the two combatants was doomed16. While we were talking the Baron Giordano arrived. It was eight o’clock, so we started.
Lucien was very anxious to arrive first, so we were on the field ten minutes before the hour.
Our adversaries17 arrived at nine o’clock punctually. They came on horseback, followed by a groom18 also on horseback.
M. de Chateau Renaud had his hand in the breast of his coat. I at first thought he was carrying his arm in a
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