THREE PELLETS OF BREAD.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVI, Issue 27, 26 October 1888, Page 25

THREE PELLETS OF BREAD.

(Translated from the French of Boucher.) Paul C was a ''jolly good fellow," so every one said. Thirty years old perhaps, a Parisian in every sense of the word, with that courageous nature, lively and a little inclined to teasing, that is the characteristic of the children of Paris. Nevertheless, he had an excellent heart, and was ready to throw himself into the fire if necessary for the very one whom an instant before he had made the target for his jests. It was at R , that pretty little neighbouring city to Puy. that Paul found himself one morning for pleasure and the drinking of certain healthful waters, for RR — — , as every one knows, is a charming summer resort, and filled, during the summer at least, with guests. Paul and his friend, Edouard Duchesne, were at the same hotel, and took their meals together at the table d'hote, where they had for a neighbour in front of them an Englishman, known to be a very rich and very eccentric, and whose life they said was but series of endless journeyings around the world. If Paul betrayed himself a Parisian in every act and feature, so did the stranger betray the nativity of his melancholy country. Short of stature and fat, the face broad and ruddy, the skull bald and shining, ths beard blond, the eyes blue as corn flowers, he was truly the most perfect type of an Englishman that it is possible to imagine. More than once Paul found himself smiling at the impassible visage of Sir Arthur Jacobson, for such was the stranger's name. This evening, then, when the events occurred that lam going to tell you of, and, by the way, the evening of the departure of the two young men, as the dinner was drawing to a close, exhilarated doubtless by the champagne they had taken, Paul amused himself while talking to Edouard in rolling balls of bread crumbs aui launching them between thumb and finger, as school children launch balls of paper, at his neighbour, the Englishman. It was a thoughtless, not to say rude, exhibition on the part of Paul, but then Paul was not quite himself, and the temptation was for the moment irresistible. As the first pellet struck the arm of Sir Arthur Jacobson he slowly turned his clear eyes upon Paul and his companion, but his broad physiognomy lost nothing of its habitual placidity. One would have supposed even that he had seen and comprehended nothinz, had it not been for the fact that with an air of the utmost indifference and phlegm he he lifted the morsel of bread crumb and slipped it into the pocket of his vest ; still, however, without uttering a syllable. , The bearing of this man was well calculated to excite the tea«ng humour of the Parißian, and scarcely a moment had elapsed Binco the

launching of the first pellet when a second, followed it, and taking the same direction as the first, went to flatten itself upon hia shoulder, and like the other to travel the road to Sir Arthur's pocket. Angered a little by this systematic imperviousness, and certainly for the time being blind to the insult and inconvenience that such pleasantry had for its object, Paul believed it his duty to repeat his pellet for a third tiae. It struck his vlt-a-rU upon the forehead immediately between the eyebrows. Aud still he received it with neither a movement nor a sign, though the waiters at the table could scarcely repress their hilarity on seeing him with the same sto : cal gravity lift bis hand, remove it, and send it to join us comrades in his pocket. This amusement, in bad taste, as you are bound to admit, had lasted long enough, and as the guests were quitting the table Sir Arthur rose and followed their example, and Paul and his friend, their heads decidedly heavy with wine, got up in turn and went to smoke a «igar on the terrace. Hardly, however, had they made their appearance there, than Paul found himsslf confronted by his recent victim, who regarded him full in the face, aud in excellent French stated that he desired to speak to him a moment. "You must certainly understand, monsieur," said he, "that the play to which you delivered yourself a while ago, constitutes a serious affront, of which I demand the reason. Moreover, as a gallant man you also ccc that you must accord me, without my forcing it, the reparation which is my right." " Precisely, my lord ; I see, and I am at your Bervice." "To-morrow morning, then, monsieur, at five o'clock, behind the park." "The conditions 1 " " Pistols— thirty paces— 4 vue. Iv an hour my seconds will wait upon yours. I have the honour, monsieur, to salute you," " Which proves once more, my dear Paul," said Eiouard, when the stranger had turned on bis heel, " that it does not do to trust to appearances. Who would have supposed that devil of a little man so touchy on a point of honour? He takes takes the thing, in my opinion, too seriously." 11 Eh, par Bleu, he has reason," replied Paul, in whose brain the freshness of the air had brou/ht about a salutary reaction. " I have committed a serious and an offensive stupidity ; it is just that I taka the consequences. But a truce to words ; come with me to the house of M. D , whom I know slightly, and whom I shall ask to be my •econd witness." Promptly at the hour appointed the next morning, Paul and his Beconds, and Sir Arthur Jacobson and hi i second arrived at the spot indicated behind the park. Paul was a commercial man, peacefnlly inclined, and nothing of a sports-man, but, in default of knowledge of tie duelling cole and of practice possessed the natural and inherent courage of a nrave heart, which enabled him uuder the present circumstances to worthily sustain his part. The seconds, meanwhile, had measured the ground, charged the pistol-, and placed the principal". As they wero about to give the woid the Englishman checked them. "A rnomeut.il you please, messieurs !" and he drew from his pocket a tiny while pellet and extended it to Paul. " Wnh this, nioniieur," said he, •• remember that you struck me here," aud, toeing the pellet to the ground, Sir Arthur designated with his ri'iger the outer portion of his right arm. A ruinate later two reports were heaid. and Paul staggered, his right arm pierced by a ball. The wound was eerious, though not dangerous, and with care and nursing three we j ks irom the meeting behind the park Paul was as good as well again. Bir Arthur had come to inquire for him daily, and Edouard Duchesne, tranquillised by the couditioi of hia friend, had long since returned to Paris ; and soon Paul was able to go without canyiug his arm in a cling. But scarcely had he poleo le a hundred yards beyond the hotel when he found h:mselt face to fd,c j with the Englishman. '• Pardon me, monsieui," said he, approaching Paul; " but now that you are recovered I must recall io you thit the reparation you have accorded me is not the only one that you owe me. 1 hay«h ay« waited until to-day, but I ha\e hy no means renounced my rights. I trive only desired that you should be in a condition physically to permit you to tight again." ' Very well, sir, count npon me," replied Paul, who felt born within him a suudea auger at the cold persistency with which this man pursued his vengeance. Too much of a Parisian to feel rancour himae.f at an mjuiy so trifling, Sir Arthur's stubbornness put him in a fury. The next morciog, then, a new encounter took place under the same conditions as the other ; the witnesses were also the same, »nh the exception of a young physician and mend of Paul's, who hai taken the pluce of E>louari Duchesne. As upon the formjr occasi jd, when the adversar.es stood iv posi ion ana ihe word was about to ba given, Sir Arthur drew from bis pocket a second pellet jike the first, and, showing it to Paul, repeated the lormula : — " Witu t-iis, moubieur, leincmber thit you struck me here," and he laid his hand upon his left bhouMer. A moment later two reports came simuliaueousJy, the branch cf acacia ab;vo the JSng ishmao's head shook Blujutly, cut by Paul's ball, and Paul lay mere upon the ground, his shouioer ploughed and bloody. This time the wound was decidedly serious. iJanidd nearly sensless to his chamber, Paul as soon as he could speak after the agony caused by the dressing of the wound had passed, lusisted to his doctor that he must be taken to Puy to the house of a sister who resided there. The transit was not difficult, and, deeming it best to gratify hi* desire, the doctor contented and arranged accordingly, and that same § evening, accompanied by his phys.cian and second, who refused to leave him, Paul was placed in the care of Martha, nis sister, whose distress at his condition you can readily imagine. The cause of the trouole, however, Paul wisely kept to himself. " If, was an accident received when riding," was all be told her. Tae fever that the doctor hid fo:e eenwith this wound goon made its appearance, and, aggravated by the difficulty of extracting the ball

and the short journey from B , speedily ran into delirium and complications of other kinds. In short,though the cure of the patient waß positively promised by the doctor, it would bs a long and tedious process—" six weeks at ainly, perhaps a little long»r." Mdme. Martha, reassured by the doctor's conflience, desided to take advantage oE the occasion to impress upoa her brother the excellent qualities of a certain young woman whom for a long while •ha had intended for his fature wife. Jeanne and her mother, thon, had bean called upon in hot haste, and that same day installed by this shrewd tactician, ostensibly to assist and relieve har, by the pillow of the wounded. For a long time the fever and delirium continued, bat At last ceasel, and when Paul entered ijto the dreamy and peaceful state of convalescence his eyes rested always upon the fret»h|and charming: faoe of this young girl who h»d voluntarily and for maay day« put been his garde nalade. He rec\lled the thousand and one cares of which he had been the recipient and of which he had takea count but vaguely in the weakness of body and brain produced by serious illaa«» A strange, sweat emotion invaded his heart. He extended his hand to Jeanne, who smiled and g »v« him her own with charming grace and gentleness. ■ From this on the cure proceeded rapidly. " The day was near," Baid the doctor, " when the invalid would be able to leave his room." And gradually, as strength returned to his feeble body, love inoreased in his heart ; and the tender, unaccustomed sentiment, combined witk the warm bud of April, contributed not a little to hasten complete recovery. Strange as it may seem, though instances are not rare where tha force of a true affection overpowers and effaces all memory of tha causes that have given it birth, Paul at this point was bo absorbed in hia dream that he had absolutely forgotten the events that had furnished the motive of his descent upon Puy, when an incident occurred that brusquely recalled him to reality. "Do you know, Paul," said Martha to bim one morniDg — " I hare forgotten to tell you of it before— that a gentleman has been here regularly every day to ask for news of you 1" " A gentleman f Oh, yes," replied Paul, whose cheeks bad flushed a little ; " yes. Sir Arthur Jacobson, was it not V " That was the name," said Martha, adding inquiringly, " a friend of yours, perhaps?" " Tes, a friend "—with a bitter smile. " I must see him soon. Tomorrow I shall be able to leave the house, and it shall be my first visit." At a flaßh Paul had comprehended the immensity of the peril that awaited him — that hs had returned to life again simply that his enemy should take it from him. Yes, those two first encounters were truly insignificant, though showing him what he had to expect ; the third one was inevitably death. The pellet of bread, the third onehe remembered it well— had struck immediately in the centre of the brow. Daath I when love sang in his heart, and the future smiled before bim, filled with the sweetest promises I It was indeed too much, and the vindictiveness, Paul told himself, of a brute rather than a man. Blind fury took possession of him towards this ferocious adversary who allowed him to take breath only to stiike him down the surer. This time it i-hould be a duel to the death between them, but one— and Paul prayed for it devoutly— where consciousness of right would put in the hand ot the feeble a superior force that would lead to victory. The next morning bright and early, still feverish with anger burning in his heart, but very resolute not to wait till the peril came to §aek him, so eager was he to finish it, Paul sallied out alone, certain of encountering him whom he sought. Nor were his expectations disappointed, for at the end of the street in which he lived he perceived Sir Arthur coming, as usual, to inform himself of his victim's progress. Paul did not give him time to speak. "I know, monsieur," said he, '"that you still await me ; if I submit to this last exaction, it is because I also have a desire to finish once for all with the cruelty of your pursuit ; but 1 put a condition upon this final encounter— that it thill not take place until a month irum to-day — that is to say, the morning after the day when I shall give my name and property to a young girl whom I love with all my heart, who loves me in return, and who will be my wife." '• You are going to be married, then 1 " said Sir Arthur, with an accent of interest aud curiosity. •' In that case [ will wait ; bnt of course under the circumstances," and he gazed at Paul fixedly, " you will permit me fo assist at the nuptial benediction ? " !' certainly," replied Paul, but very coldly : " I know of nothing to prevent it ; " and bidding each other a courteous good morning, the two men parted. One mouth later, precisely, the' permit of the Maire and the benediction of the pn«*t united Paul and Jeanne, the latter more beautiful than ever in her bridal robes and the chaste blushes that rjddendd her face. Paul was also very happy despite the 'act that his happiness was tinctured with Secret sadness, and accepted with a proud aud jo>ous smile the congratulntions showered upon him at the door of the sacristy by the throng of guests. The last of the file was Sir Arthur Jacobson, who said to him in an undertone, as ha flipped into his hand a tiny casket of chißte gold, and turned away : " " My prefent to you. monsieur"' With the exception of the family and a few intimates, every one had now retired, aud profiting by a moment of solitude Paul lifted the lid to find— a pellet of bread, yellowed and dried up, but still the third one ! Paul compiehended at last— this present that Sir Arthur had given him was forgetfulneas, condonement, life, and happiness. It was no shame to his manhood that a tear of joy sparkled upin his lashe3. That same day Sir Arthur Jacobson left the country, to return nomoie, and three jeara later died in Holland, leaving to Paul — "a ( man," bo the will read, '• brave enough to face the consequences of a momen.ary indiscretion."— a fortune that amounted to more than tw» i million dollars.— Jfi, C. Waggener, in the Sunday Mercury, N.Y.