THE FINAL SHOT.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 6033, 27 December 1890, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE FINAL SHOT.

[iSY IVAK KAItOFF.] I'AllT 11. Several years parsed, and circumstances compelled mo to take up my iili.ido in the region of Stanon. I had. I ml lew neighbors, and though busy with the superintendence of my estate, I lei! a nil her lively life. About, four versls away was the beautiful country seat of (Jountess Zaroiiski, whieli was. in charge of her agent. Hut ihc spring following my arrival in the country,! hi>».\l that, the countess and her husband weiv to pass the summer on their estate. The news was very welcome to me, ami soon after their avrival I took the liberty, as the nearest neighbor and only other considerable landowner in that region, to call upon them, A servant led mo into the count's rewption-room, and went to announce my presence. The room was large, and furnished with all posssiblo luxury. On the walls were eases well filled' with hooks in elegant bindings, and nigs, bronzes, and pictures, gave the place a comfortable and attractive appearance. The door opened, and v handsome man of perhaps ihirfy-five appeared, The count received me in a most friendly and hearty manner, and even before I e< hi Id announce welcomed me as neighbor. His [nui^

easy manner soon banished the embarrassment I had at first felt; the countess came in, and I was presented to her. She was indeed a beautiful woman, and in her presence I felt my first feeling of awkwardness and timidity returning. But they treated me so informally, so like an oldacquaintance, that I felt once more reassured. Meanwhile I looked at some of the books and pictures, and told them how welcome to my eyes were such thiftgs, for my house was but barely furnished, and a mansion had never been built on the place. One picture especially attracted my attention. It was a Swiss landscape, but it was not the painting itself that struck my eye, but rather the fact that right in the middle of the canvass were two bullet holes, one precisely above the other. ' A capital shot,' I remarked, turnj ing to the count. ! 'Yes,'he said, 'a very remarkable shot. Do you care for shooting ?' 'AYell, I think I would not miss a card at thirty paces,' I replied, glad a subject had been hit upon that was familiar to me. 'Of course, with pistols you mean V 'Really,' said the countess, with a look of interest, and turning to her husband. ' And you, my dear, could you hit a card at that distance ?' < We will try it some day,' answered the count. ' In my time I was not a bad shot; but I've not handled a pistol for four years.' ' Well, in that case,' I remarked, ' I will venture that you will miss at twenty paces. Pistol shooting demands daily practice. I know that from experience. No, believe me, count, a man must practice continually or he becomes rusty. The best shot I ever knew never let a day pass without using his pistols —and generally took a few practice shots before each meal.' ' And what sort of a marksman was he ?' asked the count. 'Well, for example : when he saw a fly on the wall ho called out. ' Hollo, Knako, my pistols.' Knako brought him a loaded pistol. Pitt', ami Ihe flywas smashed to bits.' ' Remarkable skill," exclaimed the count, ' and what was his name.' \ ' Silvio, count.' ' Silvio,' cried he, springing to his feet. ' Did you know Silvio ?' | ' Know him ? We were intimate i friends. He was looked upon as one of our regiment. But I have not heard of him for five years. Then you, too, have known him ?' ' Yes, I knew him—knew him well. Ditl he ever, perhaps, fell you of a strange occurrence ' i ' Do you mean of the blow a young j fellow gave him at a bull ! 'Did he tell you the name of ibis I young fellow '?' j 'No: hut count,' I cried, suspecting the truth. ' I beg your pardon—l did not know that you were the person.' ' Yes, I myself,' answered the count somewhat confused. ' The bullet holes in that picture-painting are the mementoes of our Inst meeting. 1 ' Please, dear,' said the countess, ' don't speak of that. I shudder when I hear that story.' ' No,' answered the count. ' I must tell the gentleman all about it. It is I but right that he should know how Silvio was avenged.' I Wo sat down, and I listened with intense, interest to the following narrative :— Five years ago we were married, and passed our honeymoon upon this estate.- ----| One evening ns we returned from a ride, j I saw a travelling carriage at the door, I and I was informed that a gentleman I was waiting to see me. He had refused to give his name, and only said I that he had business of importance to transact with'"-me. I came to this re-ception-room and saw before me a man with dust-covered clothes and a long beard, standing by the chimney. T went up to him but failed to recognise the features. ' You do not know me, count,' he said with trembling voice. ' Silvio,' I exclaimed, and I must confess that I felt my hair stand on end. ' Yes, it is I,' he continued. ' I have one shot still to my credit, and I have come to take it. Are you ready ?' From a side pocket I saw the handle of a pistol protruding. I measured off twelve paces—the original distance— and stood in the corner over there. I begged him to shoot quickly, before my wife came in. He hesitated and demanded a light, as it was growing dark. Candles were brought. I closed the door and ordered that no one be admitted, and then again requested him to fire. He raised his pistol and aimed. I counted the seconds. I thought of her—a terrible moment passed—Silvio lowered his pistol. ' I am sorry,' said he. ' but my pistol is not loaded with cherry stones—tho ball is so heavy—but it occurs to mo that this seems more like a murder than a duel. lam not accustomed to. shooting unarmed men. We will begin again, and draw lots who shall shoot first.' \ My head swam—l believe I rejected the proposition—but finally a second pistol was loaded. We placed: two pieces of paper iv his cap—the one t had put a bullet through—and drew. ] won a second time. ' You have devilish good luck, count,' said he with a smile which I shall never forget. ' I know not how it happened, nor through what means he compelled mo to it. but I fired and hit this picture here.' The count pointed to the landscape. His face was fiery red, but that of the sountess as white as a sheet. 'At any rate 1 shot,' continued th 0 count, ' and missed, thank God ! r, "i ien Silvio took aim (at that uhhj> ] )e looked almost like a fiend.) (Suddenly the door opened and rail ;„ and threw herself about w - U( , e ]._ ]| ( , r presence gave mo •"J I ',rage again. •'My dear,' t P aill) P,',,',£, vmJ gee that we arc m >»;, ort ? How frightened you arc ? U',, got a class of water and c<une. hack. Then [ will present toyou my oi.il ' n'ond and comrade.' "• * .aseha was siill in doubt. ( ForcuHlitmatinu sue next page.)

'' Tell me, is it true, what my husband says ?' she asked, turning to Silvio. '' Is it true that this is only a J ok <' r . . ,- i "He is fond of jesting, replied Silvio. ' One day in jest he struck me : in jest he put a bullet' through my cap : now he has jestingly missed me. 1 think I may be allowed one little jest.' . ' With these words he took aim at mc in the presence of my wife. ' Mascha threw herself at his feet. "Stand up, Mascha shame upon you,' I cried in anger. ' And you, sir, will you cease to make yourself merry over'a poor woman ? Will you tire or not?' '' I will not Ore, answered Silvio. 'I am satisfied. I only wished to see you in pain and ' contusion. I compelled you to shoot at me. lam satisfied. You will remember me. _ I leave you alone with your conscience.' ' He took one step towards the door, but stopped at the threshold, cast one glance at the painting my ball had struck, and then fired at it, almost without aiming, as he went out. 'My wife fainted. The servants did not dare to stop him, and looked after hiui in terror. He went down the steps, called to the coachman, and before I could gain my presence of mind, was gone.' The count was silent. So it was that I learned the end of a < story, the beginning of which had greatly interested me. I have never seen the hero of it since. It is said that Silvio led a division of the Revolutionists during the uprising of Alexander Ypsilenti, and fell at the battle of Shullein.