LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2674, 1 November 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

MY FIRST DUEL

[Translated from the French.] Just about dawn my valet dc chamhre raps gently with his finger nails ou my door. Ho has two cards in his hand. With my eyc-s still full of sloop I look at them and distinguish the names of two members of cur club.

The discussion of the evening before with the Marquis do C. suddenly comes to my mind and although secretly blaming myself for that silly episode, I send word to the gentlemen begging them to excuse my inability to receive them for the moment, and making a now appointment with them for throe o’clock in the afternoon.

As soon as they are gone, Joseph dresses mo in all haste, and I hurry to my friend George to explain my situation. ‘My dear fellow,’ ho observes, r this is a first duel—that is my opinion. You are very young, and you are absolutely iu tho wrong. If you wish to acknowledge as much, well and good ; but if you make up your mind to fight, that will be a great deal bettor, under the circumstances.’

‘I must write to De 8., and get my swords at tho store.’

c No ; there is no need of that. Just go to a fencing school, to get your hand in and make your legs supple. Fence for an hour—not more, it would do you no good. I’ll go and see De B. myself. As for tho swords, you can have mine here, which will bring you good luck.’ I smiled with a somewhat forced smile, and shake hands with George, giving him a significant grip, one of those energetic hand-clasps such as we only have strength to give upon certain occasions. I hurry to the fencing school and have a quiet talk with my fencing 'master, who immediately puts on his old plastron, considering the emergency of the situation, and forthwith makes me practice the counter of quarto for a whole hour, parrying with halflonges at the arms. I leave the fencingschool highly pleased with myself, and fortified with the blessings of my fencing master, who offers to wager his head that I shall wound my adversary. I start for Durand’s, practising the counter of qnarte with my cane all the way, in a style serried enough to do honor to Cordelois. I can think of nothing else except my duel. I had told everybody about it. Had the Marquis de C —, against whom I had no real grudge whatever, offered me the fullest and frankest apologies I would have energetically refused to accept them. At Durand’s I meet George and De B. "We breakfast all three together; there is a great deal of duel talk. Of course, George has to tell me about his duels in Algeria. The moral of his narration is that it is very seldom that any one is killed in a duel with swords, so long as he can preserve his sang froid , and I coolly talk about drinking the blood of the marquis. George begins to laugh at me. I ask myself whether I shall not also send witnesses to him. No, I think it would be carrying things too far. Besides, he is really very fond of (me. I find that I am becoming a little too much of a swashbuckler.

My friends leave me to attend the meeting of the seconds. I return home. I find myself over-excited and nervous. I jostle Joseph roughly; ho does not know what to make of it. I order my horse to be saddled, and ride out to the Bois de Boulogne. Everybody I know comes to me to talk about the affair, which has begun to be noised abroad. I assume the most careless air I can put on, and listen to them with secret pleasure. I bow to a great many people. The Bois is charming ! A delightful sun—not too hot. Autumn toilets ; the prettiest of all. Two pretty dancers of the corps de ballet stop their phaeton to speak to me. * Toll mo/ asks little V., ‘ is it true that you are going to fight to-morrow with the Marquis do C. ‘ Yes ; but don’t say anything about it; it is a private affair. To-morrow morning —swords/

‘Ah ! poor Gaston ! I trust you will have good luck/ I feel the caress of her jet-black eyes as I sit upon my horse. I follow the little carriage at an easy canter. She looks at me with a tender and sad look. Then I try to show off before her, and find that I am quite delighted to have an affair of honor on my hands. I see George on his Arab at a distance. I check my thoroughbred ; George rides up to me.

‘You fight to-morrow at four o’clock in the afternoon at Le Vesinet. I have made inquiries. You-must not lose your temper upon the ground. Your adversary is not very strong or skilful; but he has fought three times, and knows a little fencing. Wo shall visit the fencing school together to-morrow morning before breakfast.’ ‘ Good !’ I answer, laconically.

His last remarks have cooled my ardor considerably. lam not quite as -well satisfied as I was a little while before. Nevertheless Ido not show it; and I maintain a show of gaiety. I try to be very witty. I make some very poor jokes—counterfeit puns. George is serious and thoughtful. Nevertheless I see a smile passing over his lips from time to time. I think that he knows just how much my show of gayoty is to be relied upon. Wc return. I dine with George and B. I secure in advance a front seat at the Bouffos ; and we are all to go to the theatre together. Some conversation as in the morning—but a little more personal this time.

f Your adversary is teller than you/ says George. ‘ln retreating you must keep your point in as much as possible, and if you see an opening thrust without making the full longe.’ ‘ Bah ! I cried laughingly ; f Let us oat our supper now and talk of something else. I want to have some fun on my last night/ It was the fourth or fifth timo I had talked about my last night, my last evening, my last dinner —allusions of more or less questionable taste. « You will do ■ me the favor/ resolutely observed George, * to do nothing foolish tonight, and to go to-bed early. We are going—De B. and I.—to chat an hour with you, put you to-bed, and to-morrow at ten o’clock I shall take you with me to the fencing school.’ I try to rebel against this injunction ; but it is positive, and, immediately after leaving the, theatre we all return to the house. Cigars are lighted ; we chat for an hour, and the gentlemen coolly depart, leaving mo alone —alone with myself and the perspective of the to-morrow. Classically, I wish to arrange my affairs.

Scarcely have I commenced to exhume papers, stamped and unstamped, inventories, correspondence, &c., when I find everything in so disorderly a state that I tumble the whole mass back into the drawer again, pellmell, feeling that I could not have the corn-age to persist. I simply write one short letter—as lovingly as I can express myself—to my mother, and leave it duly addressed upon my bureau. Then I go to bed and manage somehow or other to go to sleep against my will. The dominant idea in my mind at the moment that I drop off to sleep is this : ‘ Who knows if I shall see this room again to-morrow evening ? Who knows if I shall have the pleasure of lying down in this bed again ?’ Then I utter a mental adieu to everything about me ; and close my eyes comparing myself to Turenne and his famous cannon. * * * *

As I wake up in the morning the first face I see at the head of my bed is' George’s. In one second the thought of the first duel rushes to my mind, and I feel a sort of griping at my heart. Then, after a cordial handshake, I examine George’s toilet. Black dress coat, light pantaloons, pearl-gray gloves. I feel so grateful to him for having eschewed the lugubrious costume usually worn upon such occasions He notices the favorable impression. < My dear fellow/ ho says, ‘ it is not now fashionable to go out to such affairs as if one were going to a funeral; it is nothing more than a promenade/ I riii" for my valet de chamhre. ‘Joseph/ says George, ‘ go and pick out for your master the most stiffly starched shirt he has, with a turned down collar.

Then bring me the oldest pair of his shoos you can find! It doesn’t matter much what they look like.’ Joseph looks surprised, and returns a moment after with the articles designated. George examines the shirt with tho most scrupulous care.

* Good ! that is stiff enough. Now run over to the shoemaker and get him to cut off those heels about one-tenth of an inch from tho sole. Run ! and come hack as quick as you can.’ I allow him to do as ho pleases without understanding his motive in the least. *lt is very important,’ says ho, ‘ that your heel shall not stick, or catch iu tho ground and cause you to loose your balance with tho sword iu your hand. Moreover, while you need a shoe that supports the foot you must not have one that will press tho foot tightly. Do you know that it is a superb day, and that you are really lucky ? You can fight in duck pantaloons, which is far the most comfortable thing you can wear on such occasions.’

my friend George begins to assume gigantic proportions in my eyes. I submit to all bis directions without the least objection and dress mysedf according to his instructions—black- frock coat, black vest, white duck pantaloons. Two minutes later we arrive at the fencing school. We fence, and George seems to be very well satisfied. Ho renews his advice of the previous evening. I listen with all my ears.

‘ Good !—that is it! Thrust at the arm in advancing. Now !in retreating. Good ! that was very good ! The moment you see your adversary leave the line to attack, then disengage and thrust—under ! So! That is it. We have fenced enough now—you must not tiro yourself for nothing. *