The duel had been duly discussed at the clubs, and it is probable that
no one suspected Merton of any other purpose. The baron was eager and
Belgium a common resort for duels. On the same day after the
secretary's departure for London, Merton took the train for Brussels
with Lieutenant West, the baron and his friends, Count le Moyne and
the colonel. The captain had the papers fastened under his shirt, and,
as I learned later, was well armed. Not the least suspicion was
entertained in regard to our double errand, and, as I had talked
freely of being one of the seconds, I was able to follow them, as far
as I could see, unwatched, except by Alphonse, who promptly reported
me to his other employers as having gone to Belgium as one of
Merton's friends.
In the evening we met Le Moyne and the little colonel at the
small town of Meule, just over the border, and settled the usual
preliminaries. The next day at 7 A.M. we met on an open grassy space
within a wood. The lieutenant had the precious papers. We stepped
aside. The word was given and the blades met. Merton surprised me. It
is needless to enter into details. He was clearly no match for
Porthos, but his wonderful agility and watchful blue eyes served him
well. Then, of a sudden, there was a quicker contest. The baron's
sword entered Merton's right arm above the elbow. The seconds ran in
to stop the fight, but as the baron was trying to recover his blade,
instead of recoiling, Merton threw himself forward, keeping the
baron's weapon caught in his arm, and thrust madly, driving his
own sword downward through the baron's right lung. Then both men
staggered back and Porthos fell.
I hurried Merton away to an inn, where the wound his own act had made
serious was dressed. Although in much pain, he insisted on our leaving
him at once. Lieutenant West and I crossed the Channel that night. At
noon next day Mr. Adams had the papers and this queer tale which, as I
said, is unaccountably left out of his biography. I have often
wondered where, to-day, are those papers.
The count remained with Porthos at a farm-house near by. He made a
slow recovery, the colonel complaining bitterly that M. Merton's
methods lacked the refinement of the French duel.
The papers contained, among other documents, a rough draft of a letter
dated October 15, 1862, from M. Drouyn de Lhuys proposing intervention
to the courts of England and Russia. It appeared in the French
journals about November 14, when the crisis had passed. Mr. Adams
acted on the manly instructions of Mr. Seward, and Mr. Gladstone lived
to change his opinions on this matter, as in time he changed almost
all his opinions. Madame Bellegarde, unknown to history, had saved the
situation. The English minister declined the French proposals.
Soon after I returned, Madame Bellegarde reappeared, and, as soon as
he was well enough, Merton went to see her. She had been released,
as we supposed she would be, with a promise to say nothing of her
examination, and she kept her word. I thought it as well not to call
upon her, but when Merton told me of his visit I was malicious enough
to ask whether he had returned to her the ribbon. To this he replied
that I had a talent for observation and that I had better ask her.
She had been ordered to leave France for six months. I am under the
impression that he wrote to her and she to him. The thrust in his
arm, which would otherwise have been of small moment, his own decisive
act had converted into a rather bad open wound, and, as it healed very
slowly, under advice he resigned from the army and for a time remained
in Paris, where we were much together. In December he left for Italy.
I was not surprised to receive in the spring an invitation to the
marriage of the two actors in this notable affair. I ought to add that
Le Moyne lost his place in the Foreign Office, but, being of an
influential family, was later employed in the diplomatic service.
Circumstances, as Alphonse remarked, made it desirable for him to
disappear. Merton was additionally generous and my valet married and
became the prosperous master of a well-known restaurant in New York.