ng.

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."

I knew that my own strange fear was his.

On the way to Vincennes Baron Giordano stopped to get a case of pistols,
powder, and balls, and we arrived at our destination just as M. de
Chateau-Renard's carriage drove up. At M. de Chateaugrand's suggestion
we all made our way to a certain glade away from the public pathway.

Martelli and Chateaugrand measured, the distance together, while Louis
bade me farewell, asking me to accept his watch, and begging me to keep
the duel out of the papers, and to prevail upon Giordano not to let any
word of the matter reach Sullacro.

M. Chateau-Renard was at his post. Baron Giordano gave Louis his pistol.

Chateaugrand called out, "Gentlemen, are you ready?" Then he clapped his
hands "One, two, three."

Two shots went off at the same moment, and Louis de Franchi fell. His
opponent was unhurt. I rushed to Louis and raised him up. Blood came to