CONTRARY to custom, the duel was very little talked about; even the
papers were silent on the subject.
A few intimate friends followed the body to Père la Chaise. Chateau
Renaud refused to quit Paris, although pressed to do so.
At one time I thought of following Louis' letter to Corsica with one
from myself, but although my intentions were good, the misleading
statements I should have to make were so repugnant to me that I did
not do so. Besides, I was quite convinced that Louis himself had fully
weighed before he had decided upon his course of action.
So at the risk of being thought indifferent, or even ungrateful, I
kept silence, and I was sure that the Baron Giordano had done as much.
Five days after the duel, at about eleven o'clock in the evening, I
was seated by my table in a rather melancholy frame of mind, when my
servant entered and shutting the door quickly behind him said, in an
agitated whisper, that M. de Franchi desired to speak with me.
I looked at him steadily; he was quite pale.
"Whom did you say, Victor?" I asked.
"Oh, monsieur, in truth I hardly know myself."
"What M. de Franchi wishes to speak to me?"
"Monsieur's friend. The gentleman who was here two or three times."
"You are mad, my good man. Do you not know that I had the misfortune
to lose my friend five days ago?"
"Yes, sir; and that is the reason I am so upset. He rang, I was in the
ante-chamber, and opened the door, but recoiled at his appearance.
However, he entered, and asked if you were at home. I replied that you
were, and then he said, 'Go and announce M. de Franchi, who wishes to
speak with your master,' and so I came."
"You are stupid, Victor, the ante-chamber is not properly lighted. You
were asleep, no doubt, and did not hear correctly. Go, and ask the
gentleman his name."
"It would be useless, sir. I swear to you I am not deceived. I heard
him, and saw him, distinctly."
"Then go and show him in."
Victor turned tremblingly to the door, opened it, and then standing
still in the room, said--
"Will monsieur be kind enough to come in?"
I immediately heard the footsteps of my visitor crossing the
ante-chamber, and sure enough, at the door there appeared M. de
Franchi.
I confess that I was terrified, and took a step backwards as he
approached.
"I trust you will excuse my appearance so late," said my visitor; "I
only arrived ten minutes ago, and you will understand that I could not
wait till tomorrow without seeing you."
"Oh, my dear Lucien," I exclaimed, advancing quickly, and embracing
him. "Then it is really you." And, in spite of myself, tears really
came into my eyes.
"Yes," he said, "it is I."
I made a calculation of the time that had elapsed, and could scarcely
imagine that he had received the letter--it could hardly have reached
Ajaccio yet.
"Good Heavens! then you do not know what has happened?" I exclaimed.
"I know all," was his reply.
"Victor," I said, turning towards my servant, who was still rather
embarrassed, "leave us, and return in a quarter of an hour with some
supper. You will have something to eat, and will sleep here of
course."
"With great pleasure," he replied. "I have eaten nothing since we left
Auxerre. Then, as to lodgings, as nobody knew me in the Rue de Helder,
or rather," he added, with a sad smile, "as everybody recognized me
there, they declined to let me in, so I left the whole house in a
state of alarm."
"In fact, my dear Lucien, your resemblance to Louis is so very
striking that even I myself was just now taken aback."
"How," exclaimed Victor, who had not yet ventured to leave us. "Is
monsieur the brother----"
"Yes," I replied, "go and get supper."
Victor went out, and we found ourselves alone.
I took Lucien by the hand, and leading him to an easy chair seated
myself near him.
"I suppose (I began) you were on your way to Paris when the fatal news
met you?"
"No, I was at Sullacaro!"
"Impossible! Why your brother's letter could not have reached you."
"You forget the ballad of _Burger,_ my dear Alexander--_the dead
travel fast!_"
I shuddered! "I do not understand," I said.
"Have you forgotten what I told you about the apparitions familiar to
our family?"
"Do you mean to say that you have _seen_ your dead brother?"--
"Yes."--"When?"
"On the night of the 16th inst."
"And he told you everything?"--"All!"
"That he was dead?"
"He told me that he had been killed. The dead never lie!"
"And he said in what way?"
"In a duel."
"By whom?"
"By M. de Chateau Renaud."
"Oh no, Lucien, that cannot be," I exclaimed, "you have obtained your
information in some other way."
"Do you think I am likely to joke at such a time?"
"I beg your pardon. But truly what you tell me is so strange, and
everything that relates to you and your brother so out of ordinary
nature, that----"
"That you hesitate to believe it. Well, I can understand the feeling.
But wait. My brother was hit here," he continued, as he opened his
shirt and showed me the blue mark of the bullet on his flesh, "he was
wounded above the sixth rib on the right side--do you believe that?"
"As a matter of fact," I replied, "that is the very spot where he was
hit."
"And the bullet went out here," continued Lucien, putting his finger
just above his left hip.
"It is miraculous," I exclaimed.
"And now," he went on, "do you wish me to tell you the time he died?"
"Tell me!"
"At ten minutes past nine."
"That will do, Lucien;" I said, "but I lose myself in questions. Give
me a connected narrative of the events. I should prefer it."