\ICLETTE. 177

" And you know of no remedy—rno means O[‘—__H

“Nouc ! said the doctor.,

And, covering his facce with his hands, he sank into a chair overcome by gricf,

In face of the profound emotion of his old friend, Anatolc undcerstood that he was really Loudemncd

He hurried from the doctor’s housc hku a madman. His forchcad bathed in cold perspiration, his ideas all confusced, going he knew not whither, he sped on and on amid the darkness of the night, taking no heed of the loncliness of the streets he was traversing. Lor a long time he pursued this blind course, until at length, finding : bench, he sank down upon it.

How many hours had he still to live?

The persistent and distressing sound of a racking cough brought him b ack (o COINSCI- ousness @ he looked in the direction whencee it came andsaw, scated upon thesame bencly, a pale and weak little flower-girl—a child not more than cight years old, who as Francois Coppée says,

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“ Dies of the winter while offering us the spring.’

That versc of the poet’s recurred to the mind ot Anatole ; he felt in his waistcoat- pocket and found there two sous and two louts. He was going to give the poor child the two sous ; but TC(,()“L(,UHO‘ that he had only a few hours longer to Tiv e, he gave her th two louis.

This incident did him good.

He had been like a man stunnced by blow on the head; his bewilderment was overcome now, and hc began to reasscmble his dislocated 1dma

“ My situation,” he said to himsclf, “is that of a man condemned todeath. A\ man in that position may still, ho\\uc , hope for pardon—many of that sort arc pardoned in our days. In past times cven, sonie have been saved from the axe or the cord, to devote themselves to some difficult or dan- gerous piece of work—the launching of a s}np, for example, or, asin the time of T.ouis X[, to marry an old woman. If [ were con- sulted in the matter, T should prefer to launch a ship. Unloltunatd\, I shall not be consulted time that remains to me. But, by the way, how long /Jawve T got to live ?

He looked at his watch.

“Three o'clock in the morning '—it is timeto go to bed. To bed l—waste in sleep my last six hours! Not if T EFnow it. I have certainly somcthing better than that

during the short interval of

to do. DBut what? Of course—to makec my will.”

A restaurant—once of those which keep open all night—was not far off. Anatole cntered 1t.

• Garcon,

mk and paper.”

He drank a glass of Cliquot and looked thoughtfully at the sheet of paper b.fore him.

“To whom shall T bequeath my six thousand francs a year? I have neither father nor mothu—hdl pily for them ! Amongst the persons who interest me, I sce onl\ onc—Nicette.”

Nicette was a charming gurl of eighteen, with blonde tresses and lar ge black Lbe; an orphan like himscelf—a community in nusfortune which had long established between them a sceret and complete sym- pathy.

His Tast will and testament was speedily drawn up : universal legatee, Nicette.

That done, he drank a second glass of champagne.

“Poor Nicette,” he mused ; “she was very sad when T Last saw her. Hu‘ guardian, who knows nothing of the w orld outfldc his class of wind lllthUIllelltb at the Con- servatoire de Musique, had taken upon himsclf to promisc her hand to a brute of an amateur of fencing whom she detests—the more because she has given her heart to somebody clse. Who is that happy mor- tal 7—1I haven't the least 1dea ; but he is certainly worthy of her, or she would never have chosen him. (Jood, gentle, beautiful, loving Nicette deserves the ideal of hus- bands, Al ! she is the very wife that would have suited me, if—if—. By Jove, its an mfamy, to u)mpcl her to deqtloy her lllb—}J)f umhdmo such a treasure to such a brute ! I have never before so well understood the generous ardour which fired the breasts of th(, wandering knights, and spurred them on to the ckll\uance of oppressed beauty —And, now I come to think of it, what hinders me from becoming the l\mnht crrant of Nicette? My fate is settled—at nine o'clock—after that it will be too late ; now, therefore, is the time for action | The hour is a little unusual for visiting pcople ; but, when I reflect that, hve hours hence, I shall be no more, 1 conclude that T have no time for stand- mg on etiquctte. Forward !—my life for Nicette "

Anatole rose—and then, perceiving that hie had no money, he gave his gold watch

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bottle of champagne—and