. From beginning to end it is--a poem.'

"I knew it was no poem: Aronffy had had a duel, but I had never known
with whom. I had never asked him about it any more after he had, to my
question, 'perhaps you have murdered someone?' answered, 'Yes.' Plainly
he had meant himself. I tried to penetrate more deeply into that man's
heart.

"'Sir, neighbor, friend,--be a man! be the Christian you wish to be
thought: consider that this fellow-man of ours has a dearly-loved
family. If you have that card which the seconds gave you twelve years
ago, don't agonize or terrify him any more; write to him that "the
account is settled," and give over to him that horrible deed of
contract. I shall honor you till my death for it. I know that in any
case you will do it one day before it is too late. You will not take
advantage of that horrible power which blind fate has delivered into
your hand, by sending him his card empty to remind him that the time is
up. You would pardon him then too. But do so now. This man's life during
its period of summer, has been clouded by this torturing obligation,
which has hung continuously above his happiness; let the autumn sunbeams
shine upon his head. Give, give him a hand of reconciliation now, at
once!'

"Sarvoelgyi insisted that he had never had any kind of 'cartell': how
could I imagine that he would have the heart to maintain his revenge for
years? His past and present life repudiated any such charge. He had
never had any quarrel with Aronffy, and, had there been one, he would
long ago have been reconciled to him.

"I did not yet let the fellow out of my hands. I told him to think what
he was doing. Aronffy had once told me that, should he perish in this
affair, I was to continue the matter. I too knew a kind of duel, which
surpassed even the American, because it destroyed a man by pin-pricks.
So take care you don't receive for your eternal adversary the
neighboring heathen in exchange for the pious, quiet and distant
Aronffy.

"Sarvoelgyi swore he knew nothing of the affair. He called God and all
the saints to witness that he had not the very remotest share in
Aronffy's danger.

"'Well, and why is Aronffy so low-spirited?'

"'--As if you should not know that,' said the Pharisee, making a face of
surprise: 'not know anything about it?

"'Well I will whisper it to you in confidence. Aronffy has not been
happy in his family life. You know, of course, that when he came home he
married, and imme