given them something in the shape of a piece of paper, a note or a card. The poor boy's heart was beating violently, his cheeks were flaming, and he felt as if he could have thrown himself on Sanin's neck and burst into tears, or thrashed those hateful officers at a moment's notice. He, however, restrained his feelings, and contented himself by attentively watching each movement of his chivalrous Russian friend!

The carriage was at last ready, and they all got in. Emile scrambled up to the box with Tartaglia; he felt he could breathe more freely there, and besides, Klüber, who had become thoroughly distasteful to him, was not before his eyes.

Herr Klüber never ceased from talking the whole way home; . but nobody answered him, as nobody had a thought or a feeling in common with him. He kept persistently regretting that his advice had not been followed when he had proposed to have dinner in one of the small summer-houses. No disagreeable things could have happened then! He next expressed some bold and liberal opinions concerning the unpardonable indulgence that was shown by the government to the officers, and of the entire absence of disci pline amongst them-while but a small amount of consideration was shown to the burgher-class in society, and the consequence was that feelings of discontent were engendered, which, in the course of time, led to rebellions and revolutions. Had we not an instance of it, (here he sighed with an appearance of feeling and sternness,) a sad instance of it in France! Nevertheless, he personally respected power, and never, never! would turn revolutionist-but he could not all the same help expressing his disapprobation at the sight of such bold and outrageous behavior! He then added a few more general remarks on morality and immorality, on the proprieties of life and self-respect.

While Herr Klüber was thus discoursing, Gemma, who even during the walk before dinner had not disguised her feelings of dissatisfaction with her lover, and for that very reason had kept somewhat aloof from Sanin-feeling confused in his presence-Gemma now showed plainly that she was ashamed of Herr Klüber!

Toward the end of their drive, she grew more troubled, and although she never addressed herself to Sanin, she looked at him beseechingly. .. His pity for her was keener than his contempt for Herr Klüber, and he even secretly and half-consciously rejoiced at all that had happened during that day, in spite of the challenge that was awaiting him on the morrow.

This pleasure party of torture came to a termination at last. In handing Gemma out of the carriage, Sanin, without one word, placed the rose he had rescued in her hand; he had no wish to enter the house, although the evening had but just commenced, and Gemma did not ask him in. Besides, Pantaleone, who had come out to meet them on the stairs, told them Frau Lenore was asleep. Emile bid Sanin good-by very shyly, and in a tone of awe and admiration. Herr Klüber drove Sanin back to his hotel, and parted from him in a very constrained manner. Notwithstanding his vast amount of self-possession, the correct-minded man was feeling rather awkward and uncomfortable. But each of them had felt the same.

With Sanin, however, this feeling did not last long. It was changed to an indescribable state of joy and rapture. He walked about the room, incapable of a thought, whistling and thoroughly pleased with himself.

XVII.

"I shall wait for the officer] until ten o'clock," he thought to himself on the following morning, while finishing his toilet, "and if he is not here by that time, he may search for me!" But the Germans are early risers; the clock had barely struck nine, when the waiter came to announce to Sanin that Sub-lieutenant Von Richter requested to see him. Sanin hurriedly put on his coat and ordered the gentleman to be shown up. Mr. Von Richter, contrary to Sanin's expectations, proved to be a very young man, almost a boy. He strove hard to give his beardless face an expression of importance, but with no success: he even was not able to conceal his confusion-and, in sitting down, caught his foot in his sword and almost fell over the chair. Stammering and stuttering, he informed Sanin, in very bad French, that he was come with a message from his comrade, Baron Von Dönhof; the substance of this message was the demand of an

apology from Mr. Von Szanin for his insulting language on the preceding evening; and if such apology should be refused by Mr. Von Szanin, Baron Von Dönhof desired satisfaction. Sanin replied that he had no intention of apologizing, and was ready to give whatever satisfaction was required. Mr. Von Richter, still stammering, then asked him, with whom, at what time, and in what place, were the necessary arrangements to be made. Sanin told him, he might return to him in a couple of hours, and in the mean while he, Sanin, would endeavor to find himself a second. ("Who the devil," thought he to himself, "shall I ask to be my second?") Mr. Von Richter rose and took leave of Sanin, but on reaching the door, stood still on the threshold as though conscience-stricken, and turning to him, said in a hesitating voice, that his comrade, Baron Von Dönhof, had felt himself, in a certain degree, to blame in the proceedings of last night, and would therefore be satisfied with any "small apology"-" des exghizes léchères." To this Sanin replied that he most decidedly would not make any apologies whatever, as he did not consider himself to be in the wrong. "In that case," returned Mr. Von Richter, changing color still more, "you must exchange some friendly pistol shots-des goups de bisdolet a l'amiaple!"

"I do not at all understand you," observed Sanin; "are we to shoot into the air ?"

"Oh! no, that is not what I mean," lisped the sub-lieutenant, covered with confusion; "but I presumed that, as this was a matter between two gentlemen. . . I shall have an interview with your second," he continued, interrupting himself -and then withdrew.

Sanin threw himself into a chair as soon as the officer had retired, and fixed his eyes on the ground. "What is the meaning of all this? What sudden whirlwind have I got into? The past and future are enveloped in mist-have vanished from me. I only know that I am at Frankfort on the eve of fighting a duel." He suddenly recollected a rhyme that a mad aunt of his used to hum and dance to, and which ran as follows:

He laughed aloud and sang, as she had done, "Sub-lieutenant, come, little dove, and dance with me!" "However, I must be active, and not lose time," he exclaimed in a loud voice; then, jumping up, he saw Pantaleone standing before him with a note in his hand.

"I knocked several times, but you took no notice-so I thought you were not at home," muttered the old man, delivering a note to him. "It is from the Signorina Gemma." Sanin took the note mechanically, broke the seal and read it. wrote that she was feeling exceedingly troubled concerning what had happened, and wished to see him immediately.

Gemma

"The Signorina is feeling very anxious on your account," said Pantaleone, who was evidently acquainted with the contents of the note; "she desired me to see what you were about, and to bring you back with me."

Sanin cast his eyes on the old man, and grew thoughtful. A sudden bright idea had flashed across him. At the first moment it seemed a strange and impossible one.

"But why not?" he said interrogatively to himself. "Mr. Pantaleone!" he uttered aloud.

The old man started, thrust his chin into his neck-cloth, and looked fixedly at

Sanin.

"You know," continued Sanin, "what happened yesterday?"

Pantaleone bit his lips and shook the heavy hair off his forehead. "I do know," (Emile had related it all to him immediately on his return home.) "Ah! you know. Well, then, listen. An officer has just been here. That scoundrel challenges me to a duel. I have accepted his challenge. But I have no second. Will you be my second ?" Pantaleone gave a shudder, and lifted his eyebrows so high that they entirely disappeared under his hanging hair.

"Are you really obliged to fight?" he said at last, in Italian; until then he had been speaking in French.

"I must certainly fight. To act otherwise would be an eternal dishonor to myself."

"Hem! If I do not consent to be your second, will you try to get some one else ?" "I shall, most assuredly." Pantaleone cast his eyes down. allow me to ask you, Signor de Zanini,

"But

whether this duel of yours will not throw a shadow of suspicion over the reputation of a certain person ?"

"I do not think so: but be that as it may, there is no help for it!"

"Hem!"-Pantaleone entirely disappeared into his neck-cloth. "Well, but that ferrofluckto Kluberio-what of him?" he exclaimed suddenly, throwing his face upward.

"What of him? Nothing."

"Che" Pantaleone shrugged his shoulders in disdain. "I must, at all events, thank you," continued the old man in a hesitating voice, "that even in my present lowly condition you have recognized me as a man of some worth-un galant 'uomo! In thus acting, you have indeed proclaimed yourself to be a thorough galant 'uomo. But I must take your offer into consideration."

"Time will not allow of that, my dear Ci cippa "Tolla," prompted the old man. "I only want a single hour for reflection. The daughter of my benefactors is involved in this. . . And therefore, I must think it over, it is my bounden duty! . . . In an hour's time, . . . in three quarters of an hour you shall know my determination." "Very well; I shall wait."

"But now

XVIII.

After the lapse of an hour, the waiter again entered Sanin's room and handed him a soiled old visiting-card with the following words written on it: "Pantaleone Cippatola of Varese, Court-Singer (cantante di camera) to his Royal Highness, the Duke of Modena ;" and close upon the waiter came Pantaleone himself. He had changed his dress from top to toe. He had attired himself in a black dress-coat, worn brown with age, and a white piqué waistcoat, across which he sported a pinchbeck chain; a heavy carnelian seal hung low down on his narrow black trowsers. In his right hand he held a black hat made of hare-skin; in his left, two thick chamois leather gloves; his neck-cloth he had tied broader and higher than ever, and his shirt-frill was ornamented with a cat's-eye breastpin. On the fore-finger of his right hand he wore a ring representing two clasped hands with a flaming heart between; a strong, close smell, a smell of camphor and musk, pervaded his whole person, while the troubled solemnity of his bearing would have overwhelmed the most indifferent spectator. Sanin rose to meet him.

Sanin took a piece of paper and wrote the following words: "Calm your anxiety, my dear friend; in three hours I shall be with you, and every thing will be explained. I thank you most sincerely for your interest in me"-then intrusted the note to Pantaleone.

The latter put it carefully away into his side-pocket, and again repeating, "In an hour's time!" made for the door; but he suddenly turned back again, ran up to Sanin, caught hold of his hand, and placing it on his breast and casting his eyes up to heaven, exclaimed, "Honorable youth! Noble heart! (Nobil giovanotto! Gran cuore!) allow a decrepit old man (a un vecchiotto) to press your manly right hand! (la vostra valorosa destra!) He then jumped a few steps backward, waved his hands, and retired toward the door.

Sanin followed him with his eyes, took up a paper and commenced reading. But it was in vain; he could not understand a word he read.

"Wherefore unmercifully, my dear Mr. Cippatola! I would not for the world retract the words I said yesterday, still I am no blood-sucker! . . . But wait a little; my adversary's second will be here directly. I shall go into the next room, and you may make your conditions with him. Believe me, I shall forever remember your services, and I thank you with all my heart."

"Honor above all!" answered Pantaleone, dropping into a chair, without waiting for Sanin to offer him a seat. "If that ferrofluckto spitzbubio," continued he, confusing the French with Italian, "that tradesman Kluberio, had not sufficient sense to comprehend his own duty, or felt like a coward, why, so much the worse for him! . . . Low soul! . . . But as far as concerns the conditions of the duel, I am your man, and your interests are in my sa

cred care! . . . When I lived at Padua, there was a regiment of white dragoons stationed there, and I was very well acquainted with several of the officers! . . Their code of honor was well known to me. Besides, I frequently discussed these questions with your principe Tarbuski. . . . Do you think that officer will be here soon ?"

"I expect him every moment-but here he comes," added Sanin, looking out into the street.

Pantaleone rose, looked at his watch, arranged his hair, and quickly tucked into his shoe a tape which was hanging from under his trowsers. The young sub-lieutenant entered, looking as red and confused as before.

Sanin introduced the seconds to each other. "Mr. Von Richter, sous-lieutenant! Mr. Cippatola, artiste !" The sub-lieutenant evinced somewhat of astonishment at the sight of the old man. . . . Oh! what would he have said, if some one had whispered to him at that moment, that the presented "artiste" was also in the habit of acting as cook! But Pantaleone assumed the air of one to whom the participation in duels was quite a customary event; most probably, the reminiscences of his theatrical career assisted him considerably on this occasion, and he acted the part of a second as though he were on the stage. He and the sub-lieutenant were silent for a few moments.

"Well? Let us commence!" broke in Pantaleone, the first to speak, and playing with his carnelian seal.

"Let us," answered the sub-lieutenant; "but.. the presence of one of the adversaries

"I shall leave you, gentlemen," exclaimed Sanin; he bowed, went into his bedroom, and closed the door after him.

He threw himself on his bed, and his thoughts returned to Gemma; . . but the conversation held by the seconds reached him through the closed door. It was carried on in French; they both murdered the language, each in his own way. Pantaleone again mentioned the dragoons at Padua and the principe Tarbuski-while the sub-lieutenant spoke of "exghizes léchères" and "goup à l'amiaple." But the old man would listen to no 66 exghizes!" To Sanin's great horror he launched out to his companion in a long explanation about a certain young and in

nocent girl, whose little finger was of greater value than all the officers in the world, . (oune zeune damigella, innoucenta, qu'a ella sola dans soun peti doa vale piu que toute le zouffissié del mondo!) and repeated several times with great warmth, "It is a shame! It is a shame! (E ouna onta, ouna_onta!)" At first the sub-lieutenant took no notice of what he said, then, in a voice trembling with indignation, told him he had not come for the purpose of listening to moral sentiments

"At your age it is very useful to listen to what is sensible!" exclaimed Pantaleone.

The contest between the two seconds became at times rather stormy; it continued longer than an hour, and was concluded, at last, with the following conditions: Baron von Dönhof and Mr. de Sanin were to fight a duel on the following day, at ten o'clock in the morning, in a small wood near Hanau, at a distance of twenty paces; each was to have the right of firing twice at a signal given by the seconds. The pistols were to be without hair-triggers and not rifled. Mr. von Richter withdrew when Pantaleone triumphantly opened the bed-room door, and communicating the result of the conference, exclaimed, "Bravo Russo! Bravo giovanotto! Thou shalt be the conqueror !"

After a few minutes' time they both proceeded to Frau Roselli's. Sanin previously made Pantaleone promise to keep the duel a dead secret. The only answer the old man made was to lift his finger, and screwing up his eyes, whispered twice, "Segredezza! (Secrecy !)" He had become younger in appearance and walked with a lighter step. All these unusual although likewise unpleasant events, had reminded him vividly of the time when he himself received and offered challenges, although indeed it was but on the stage. Baritones, as is well known, are great bullies in their rôles.

XIX.

Emile rushed out to meet Sanin-he had been watching his arrival for more than an hour-and, whispering quickly into his ear that his mother was entirely ignorant of yesterday's proceedings, and that not even an allusion was to be made to the subject, and that he was again sent off to Klüber's to learn book-keeping!

and that he was determined not to go there and would hide himself somewhere -having communicated all this in a few seconds, he leaned on Sanin's shoulder, kissed him, and hurried down the street. On entering the shop, Gemma came forward to greet him; she strove to say a few words, but could not. Her lips trembled slightly, and her eyes wandered nervously away from his. He hastened to quiet her with assurances that the whole affair had come to an end in a most ridiculous way.

"You had no one with you to-day ?" she asked.

we

"One person did come—we had an explanation, and we came to a most satisfactory understanding." Gemma returned behind the counter. "She does not believe me!" he thought, and went into the next room, where he found Frau Lenore.

Her headache had passed away, but she was in a very melancholy frame of mind. She smiled pleasantly at him, at the same time warned him that he would find it dull with her to-day, as she was not in a fit state to amuse him. He sat down next to her and noticed that her eyelids were red and swollen.

"What is the matter with you, Frau Lenore; have you been crying ?"

"Hush!" she whispered, pointing to the door where her daughter was. "Do not speak so loud."

"But why have you been crying?"

"O Mr. Sanin! I do not know my self!"

"Has any one offended you ?” "Oh! no; I suddenly felt very dull. called to memory Giovan' Battista my youth

I

How it has all passed away so soon. I am growing old, my friend-and the thought of old age is unbearable to me. I feel the same as I used to, while old age is here at hand!" Tears started into Frau Lenore's eyes. "I see you look at me in astonishment.. . But you too will grow old, my friend, and will know what a bitter trial it is!"

Sanin strove to console her, reminded her of her children in whom her own youth was revived, tried even to chaff her, assuring her that she was only waiting for compliments; but she seriously asked him to cease joking, and he for the first time became convinced that such despon

dency, the despondency of coming old age-was not to be dispelled or condoled with; with patience it would pass away of its own accord. He proposed to have a game of tresette with her--he could think of nothing better. She immediately consented, and her spirits rose rapidly over the game.

Sanin played with her until dinner, and after dinner Pantaleone also took part in the game. Never had his hair fallen so low over his forehead, never had his chin disappeared so far into his neck-cloth! Every movement of his was so fraught with concentrated importance that, looking at him, one involuntarily thought, "What secret is this man concealing with such determination and firmness ?"

But-segredezza, segredezza.

Through the whole of that day, he strove in various ways to pay the profoundest respect to Sanin; at dinner, when handing the courses round, he with an air of triumph and resolution served Sanin invariably before the ladies; during their game at tresette, he made a point of yielding the buying cards up to him, and dared not take the liberty of making him abate; and in an opportune moment, declared that it was his firm belief that the Russians were the most magnanimous, the bravest, and the most determined nation in all the world!

"O thou consummate old actor !" thought Sanin to himself.

Frau Roselli's unexpectedly gloomy frame of mind did not so much astonish Sanin as her daughter's behavior toward himself. It was not that she avoided him

quite the reverse; she was constantly seating herself somewhere near him, listening attentively to what he said, and looking at him; but she positively avoided. every opportunity of a tête-à-tête with him, and as soon as he made any attempt to draw her into conversation, she would rise gently from her chair and quietly leave the room for a few moments. Then she would return again, and seat herself in some distant corner, and would remain motionless there-buried in thought and as if perplexed with wonder-deep wonder. Even Frau Lenore at last began to notice her unusual behavior, and asked her twice, what was the matter with her?

"Nothing," answered Gemma; "you know that I am apt to be sad at times." "Oh! yes, that is indeed true," assented