After Dark

  CHAPTER III.

  Three more days have passed. It is evening. Rose, Trudaine and Lomaqueare seated together on the bench that overlooks the windings ofthe Seine. The old familiar scene spreads before them, beautiful asever--unchanged, as if it was but yesterday since they had all looked onit for the last time.

  They talk together seriously and in low voices. The same recollectionsfill their hearts--recollections which they refrain from acknowledging,but the influence of which each knows by instinct that the otherpartakes. Sometimes one leads the conversation, sometimes another; butwhoever speaks, the topic chosen is always, as if by common consent, atopic connected with the future.

  The evening darkens in, and Rose is the first to rise from the bench. Asecret look of intelligence passes between her and her brother, and thenshe speaks to Lomaque.

  "Will you follow me into the house," she asks, "with as little delay aspossible? I have something that I very much wish to show you."

  Her brother waits till she is out of hearing, then inquires anxiouslywhat has happened at Paris since the night when he and Rose left it.

  "Your sister is free," Lomaque answers.

  "The duel took place, then?"

  "The same day. They were both to fire together. The second of hisadversary asserts that he was paralyzed with terror; his own seconddeclares that he was resolved, however he might have lived, to confrontdeath courageously by offering his life at the first fire to the manwhom he had injured. Which account is true, I know not. It is onlycertain that he did not discharge his pistol, that he fell by hisantagonist's first bullet, and that he never spoke afterward."

  "And his mother?"

  "It is hard to gain information. Her doors are closed; the old servantguards her with jealous care. A medical man is in constant attendance,and there are reports in the house that the illness from which she issuffering affects her mind more than her body. I could ascertain nomore."

  After that answer they both remain silent for a little while, then risefrom the bench and walk toward the house.

  "Have you thought yet about preparing your sister to hear of all thathas happened?" Lomaque asks, as he sees the lamp-light glimmering in theparlor window.

  "I shall wait to prepare her till we are settled again here--tillthe first holiday pleasure of our return has worn off, and the quietrealities of our every-day life of old have resumed their way," answersTrudaine.

  They enter the house. Rose beckons to Lomaque to sit down near her, andplaces pen and ink and an open letter before him.

  "I have a last favor to ask of you," she says, smiling.

  "I hope it will not take long to grant," he rejoins; "for I have onlyto-night to be with you. To-morrow morning, before you are up, I must beon my way back to Chalons."

  "Will you sign that letter?" she continues, still smiling, "and thengive it to me to send to the post? It was dictated by Louis, and writtenby me, and it will be quite complete, if you will put your name at theend of it."

  "I suppose I may read it?"

  She nods, and Lomaque reads these lines:

  "CITIZEN--I beg respectfully to apprise you that the commission youintrusted to me at Paris has been performed.

  "I have also to beg that you will accept my resignation of the placeI hold in your counting-house. The kindness shown me by you and yourbrother before you, emboldens me to hope that you will learn withpleasure the motive of my withdrawal. Two friends of mine, who considerthat they are under some obligations to me, are anxious that I shouldpass the rest of my days in the quiet and protection of their home.Troubles of former years have knit us together as closely as if we wereall three members of one family. I need the repose of a happy firesideas much as any man, after the life I have led; and my friends assureme so earnestly that their whole hearts are set on establishing the oldman's easy-chair by their hearth, that I cannot summon resolution enoughto turn my back on them and their offer.

  "Accept, then, I beg of you, the resignation which this letter contains,and with it the assurance of my sincere gratitude and respect.

  "To Citizen Clairfait, Silk-mercer,

  "Chalons-sur-Marne."

  After reading these lines, Lomaque turned round to Trudaine andattempted to speak; but the words would not come at command. He lookedup at Rose, and tried to smile; but his lip only trembled. She dippedthe pen in the ink, and placed it in his hand. He bent his head downquickly over the paper, so that she could not see his face; but stillhe did not write his name. She put her hand caressingly on his shoulder,and whispered to him:

  "Come, come, humor 'Sister Rose.' She must have her own way now she isback again at home."

  He did not answer--his head sank lower--he hesitated for aninstant--then signed his name in faint, trembling characters, at the endof the letter.

  She drew it away from him gently. A few tear-drops lay on the paper. Asshe dried them with her handkerchief she looked at her brother.

  "They are the last he shall ever shed, Louis; you and I will take careof that!"