第13章

MY record of events approaches its conclusion.

On the next day we returned to the hotel in London.At Romayne's suggestion, I sent the same evening to my own house for any letters which might be waiting for me.His mind still dwelt on the duel; he was morbidly eager to know if any communication had been received from the French surgeon.

When the messenger returned with my letters, the Boulogne postmark was on one of the envelopes.At Romayne's entreaty, this was the letter that I opened first.The surgeon's signature was at the end.

One motive for anxiety--on my part--was set at rest in the first lines.After an official inquiry into the circumstances, the French authorities had decided that it was not expedient to put the survivor of the duelists on his trial before a court of law.

No jury, hearing the evidence, would find him guilty of the only charge that could be formally brought against him--the charge of "homicide by premeditation." Homicide by misadventure, occurring in a duel, was not a punishable offense by the French law.My correspondent cited many cases in proof of it, strengthened by the publicly-expressed opinion of the illustrious Berryer himself.In a word, we had nothing to fear.

The next page of the letter informed us that the police had surprised the card playing community with whom we had spent the evening at Boulogne, and that the much-bejeweled old landlady had been sent to prison for the offense of keeping a gambling-house.

It was suspected in the town that the General was more or less directly connected with certain disreputable circumstances discovered by the authorities.In any case, he had retired from active service.

He and his wife and family had left Boulogne, and had gone away in debt.No investigation had thus far succeeded in discovering the place of their retreat.

Reading this letter aloud to Romayne, I was interrupted by him at the last sentence.

"The inquiries must have been carelessly made," he said."I will see to it myself.""What interest can you have in the inquiries?" I exclaimed.

"The strongest possible interest," he answered."It has been my one hope to make some little atonement to the poor people whom Ihave so cruelly wronged.If the wife and children are in distressed circumstances (which seems to be only too likely) Imay place them beyond the reach of anxiety--anonymously, of course.Give me the surgeon's address.I shall write instructions for tracing them at my expense--merely announcing that an Unknown Friend desires to be of service to the General's family."This appeared to me to be a most imprudent thing to do.I said so plainly--and quite in vain.With his customary impetuosity, he wrote the letter at once, and sent it to the post that night.