FullReads

“This time the light did not go out, and I went into my brother’s room. It
was empty.

“On the floor I found my first candle, which I lighted.

“Notwithstanding this absence of new proofs, I had enough to convince me that
my brother had been killed at ten minutes after nine o’clock.

“I retired to my room, and went to bed.

“As you may easily imagine, it was a long time before I could fall asleep. At
length fatigue vanquished my agitation, and sleep overcame me.

“Then, all continued in the form of a dream; I saw the scene as it had
occurred. I saw the man who has killed my brother, and heard his name
pronounced; it was Mons. de Château-Renaud.”

“Alas! all that is too true,” exclaimed I, “but what is your object in coming
to Paris?”

“I come to kill the man who has destroyed my brother.”

“To kill him?”

“Oh! don’t be uneasy; not after the Corsican fashion, from behind a hedge, or
over a wall. No, no, but after the French manner, with white gloves, a shirt
frill and ruffles.”

“And Madame de Franchi! does she know that you have come here with this
intention?”

“Yes.”

“And did she not object to your going?”

“She kissed me on the forehead, and said ‘go!’ My mother is a true Corsican.”

“And then you started?”

“Here I am.”

“But in his lifetime your brother did not wish to be revenged?”

“Well,” said Lucien, smiling bitterly, “he has then changed his mind since he
died.”

At this moment the servant came in with the supper. We sat down, Lucien
eating like a man whose mind was not at all pre-occupied. After supper I took
him to his chamber, he thanked me, pressed my hand, and wished me good night.”

This was the calmness which, in strong souls, follows a resolution firmly
taken.

The following morning he came into my room as soon as the servant told him I
was visible.

“Will you,” said he, “accompany me to Vincennes? It is a pious pilgrimage I
intend to make; if you have not time, I will go alone.”

“How! by yourself, and who would show you the place?”

“Oh! I shall easily recognize it; did I not tell you I had seen it in my
dream!”

I was curious to know how far this singular intuition would go.

“Very well, I will accompany you,” said I.

“Get ready, then, while I am writing to Giordano. Will you permit me the use
of your servant to carry this note to him?”

“With pleasure.”

“Thank you.”

He then went out, but returned in a few minutes. In the meanwhile I had sent
for a cab: we got into it and started for Vincennes.

On arriving at the cross-way,

“We are near the place, are we not?” said Lucien.

“Yes, about twenty steps from here, on the right, we entered the forest.”

“Here it is,” said the young man, stopping the cab.”

It was indeed the very spot.

Lucien entered the woods without any hesitation, as if he had been here
twenty times. He walked straight up to the bog; on arriving there he stopped for
an instant, and looking round with a sort of instinctive familiarity, advanced
directly to the spot where his brother had fallen. He bent his head to the
ground; and observing a reddish mark, “Here it is!” said he.

He then touched the grass with his lips.

Then rising suddenly, his eyes flashing fire, he walked the whole length of
the bog, till he came to the spot where Mons. de Château-Renaud had stood when
he fired.

“Here he was standing,” exclaimed he, stamping with his foot, and here you’ll
see him lie to-morrow.”

“How!” cried I, “to-morrow?”

“Yes, unless he is a coward, he will give me my revenge to-morrow.”

“But, my dear Lucien,” said I, “you know that it is customary in France for a
duel to produce no other consequences than those naturally arising from the duel
itself. Monsieur de Château-Renaud has fought with your brother, whom he had
challenged, but he has nothing to do with you.”

“Ah! indeed! Mons. de Château-Renaud has had the right to challenge my
brother because he offered his protection to a lady whom he had cowardly
deceived! Mons. de Château-Renaud has killed my brother, who had never touched a
pistol; he has killed him with as much security as if he had shot at that roe
buck, now looking at us. And I,—I,—I should not have the right to challenge
Mons. de Château-Renaud? Go,—go!”