_II.--M. Luden de Franchi_
Lucien explained to me the object of our expedition. For ten years the
village of Sullacro had been divided over the quarrel of two families,
the Orlandi and the Colona--a quarrel that had originated in the seizure
of a paltry hen belonging to the Orlandi, which had flown into the
poultry-yard of the Colonas. Nine people had already been killed in this
feud, and now Lucien, as arbitrator, was to bring it to an end. The
local prefect had written to Paris that one word from De Franchi would
end the dispute, and Louis had appealed to him.
To-night Lucien was to arrange matters with Orlandi, as he had already
done with Colona, and the meeting-place was at the ruins of the Castle
of Vicentello d'Istria. It was a steep ascent, but we arrived in good
time, and while we sat and waited, Lucien told me terrible stories of
feuds and vengeance. Orlandi made his appearance exactly at nine
o'clock, and after some discussion agreed to Lucien's terms. I found
that I was expected to act as surety for Orlandi, and accepted the
responsibility.
"You will now be able to tell my brother, on your return to Paris, that
it's all been settled as he wished," said Lucien.
On our way home Lucien showed wonderful marksmanship with his gun, and
admitted he was equally skillful with the pistol. His brother Louis, on
the other hand, had never touched either gun or pistol.
Next morning came the grand reconciliation of Orlandi and Colona, in the
market square in the presence of the mayor and the notary. The mayor
compelled the belligerents to shake hands, a document was signed
declaring the vendetta at an end, and everybody went to mass.
Later in the day I was compelled to bid good-bye to Madame de Franchi
and her son, and set out for Paris; but before I left Lucien told me how
in his family his father had appeared to him on his death-bed, and that,
not only at death, but at any great crisis in life, an apparition
appeared. He was certain by his own depression that his brother Louis
was suffering.
Lucien told me his brother's address, 7, Rue du Helder, and gave me a
letter which I undertook to deliver personally.
We parted with great cordiality, and a week later I was back in Paris.
_III.--The Fate of Louis_
I was startled by the extraordinary resemblance of M. Louis de Franchi,
whom I had at once called upon, to his brother.
I was relieved to find that he was not suffering from illness, and I
told him of the anxiety of his family concerning his health. M. de
Franchi replied that he had not been ill, but that he had been suffering
from a very bitter disappointment, aggravated by the knowledge that his
own suffering caused his brother to suffer, too. He hoped, however, that
time would heal the wound in his heart.
We agreed to meet the following night at the opera ball at midnight, on
the young lawyer's suggestion. I rallied him on his recovery from his
sorrow, but Louis only said mournfully that he was driven by fate,
dragged against his will.
"I am quite sure," he said, "that it would be better for me not to go,
but nevertheless I am going."
Louis was too pre-occupied to talk when we met at the masked ball, and
he suddenly left me for a lady carrying violets. Later he rejoined me,
and together we set off to supper at three o'clock in the morning. It
was my friend D----'s supper party, and he had included Louis in the
invitation.
We found our friends waiting supper, and D---- announced that the only
person who had not arrived was Château-Renard. It seemed there was a
wager on that M. de Château-Renard would not arrive with a certain lady
whom he had undertaken to bring to supper.
Louis, who was as pale as death, implored D---- not to mention the
lady's name, and our host acceded to the request.
"Only as her husband is at Smyrna, or in India or Mexico or somewhere,
and in such a case it's the same as if the lady wasn't married," D----
observed.
"I assure you her husband is coming back soon, and he is such a good
fellow he would be horribly mortified to hear his wife had done anything
silly in his absence."
Château-Renard had till four o'clock to save his bet. At five minutes to
four he had not arrived, and Louis smiled at me over his wine. At that
very moment the bell rang. D---- went to the door, and we could hear
some argument going on in the hall.
Then a lady entered with obvious reluctance, escorted by D---- and
Château-Renard.
"It's not yet four," said Château-Renard to D----.
"Quite right, my boy," the other answered. "You've won your bet."
"No, hardly yet, sir," said the unknown lady. "Now I know why you were
so persistent. You have wagered to bring me here to supper, and I
supposed you were taking me to sup with one of my own friends."
Both Château-Renard and D---- besought the lady to stay, but the fair
unknown, after expressing her thanks to D---- for his welcome, turned to
M. Louis de Franchi, and asked him to escort her home. Louis at once
sprang forward.
Château-Renard, furious, insisted that he would know whom to hold
accountable.
"If I am the person meant," said Louis, with great dignity, "you will
find me at home at 7, Rue du Helder all day to-morrow."
Louis departed with his fair companion, and though Château-Renard was
ostentatiously cheerful, the end of the supper-party was not at all a
festive business.
At ten o'clock the same morning I arrived at the rooms of M. Louis de
Franchi. The seconds of Château-Renard had already called, and I passed
them on the stairs.
Louis had written me a note; with another friend, Baron Giordano
Martelli, the affair was to be arranged with Baron de Châteaugrand, and
M. de Boissy, the gentleman I had met on the stairs.
I looked at the cards of these two men, and asked Louis if the matter
was of any great seriousness.
Louis replied by telling the story of the quarrel. A friend of his, a
sea captain, had married a beautiful woman, so beautiful and so young
that Louis could not help falling in love with her. As an honourable man
he had kept away from the house, and then on being reproached by his
friend, had frankly told him the reason.
In return, his friend, who was just setting off for Mexico, commended
his wife, Emilie, whom he adored and trusted absolutely, to his care,
and asked his wife to consider Louis de Franchi as her brother. For six
months the captain had been away, and Emilie had been living at her
mother's. To this house, among other visitors, had come M. de Château-
Renard, and from the first, this typical man of the world had been an
object of dislike to Louis. Emilie's flirtations with Château-Renard at
last provoked a remonstrance from Louis, and in return the lady told him
that he was in love with her himself, and that he was absurd in his
notions. After that Louis had left off calling on Emilie, but gossip was
soon busy with the lady's name.
An anonymous letter had made an appointment for Louis with the lady of
the violets at the masked ball, and from this person he was informed
again not only of Emilie's infidelity, but further, that M. de
Château-Renard had wagered he would bring her to supper at D----'s.
The rest I knew, and I could only assent mournfully that things must go
on, and that the proposals of Château-Renard's seconds could not be
declined.
But M. Louis de Franchi had never touched sword or pistol in his life!
However, there was nothing for it but to return M. de Châteaugrand's
call.
Martelli and I found that Château-Renard's two supporters were both
polite men of the world. They were as indifferent as Louis was to the
choice of weapons, and by a spin of a coin it was decided that pistols
were to be used.
The place agreed upon for the duel was the Bois de Vincennes, and the
time nine o'clock the following morning.
I called in the evening on Louis to ask him if he had any instructions
for me; but his only reply was "Counsel comes with the night," so I
waited on him next morning.
He was just finishing a letter when I entered, and he bade his servant
Joseph leave us undisturbed for ten minutes.
"I am anxious," said Louis, "that my friend Giordano Martelli, who is a
Corsican, should not know of this letter. But you must promise to carry
out my wishes, and then my family may be saved a second misfortune. Now,
please read the letter."
I read the letter Louis had written. It was to his mother, and it said
that he was dying of brain fever. Her son, writing in a lucid interval,
was beyond hope of recovery. It would be posted to her a quarter of an
hour after his death. There was an affectionate postscript to Lucien.
"What does this mean? I don't understand it," I said.
"It means that at ten minutes past nine I shall be dead. I have been
forewarned, that is all. My father appeared to me last night and
announced my death."
He spoke so simply of this visit, that if it was an illusion it was as
terribly convincing as the truth.
"There is one thing more," said Louis. "If my brother was to hear that I
had been killed in a duel, he would at once leave Sullacro to come and
fight the man who had killed me. And then if he were killed in his turn
my mother would be thrice widowed. To prevent that I have written this
letter. If it is believed that I have died of brain fever no one can be
blamed." He paused. "Unless, unless--but no, that must not be."