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Show THE WRONG CARD. "What will you have, sir?" "Give me a fillet of beef, ?? mushrooms, Lyonnais potatoes, and green peas." "Yes, sir." Away went the waiter, but returned in three minutes. "There are no mushrooms, sir-only one plate." "Well, bring me one plate-how many do you suppose I want!" "But, sir, Monsieur Delavignes-a very old customer-ordered me to save him some mushrooms every day, and he has not yet dined." "Never mind Monsieur Delavignes; I must have the mushrooms-I can't dine without them." "It is impossible, sir." "Very well, give me the potatoes and peas to-day, and lay in a larger supply of mushrooms to-morrow." "Yes, sir." The order, minus the fungie, being executed, Monsieur Rendeau Hillaire proceeded to demolish his meal, inwardly wishing that Delavignes-whoever he might be-was a little less partial to mushrooms. "Waiter!" "Sir?" "Bring me a bottle of Haute Sauterne." The waiter made a gesture of comic anger. "Sacre! how unfortunate! Monsieur Delavignes used the last we had in the house yesterday. We had but a half dozen." "Does this mysterious Delavignes drink six bottles of wine at dinner?" "No, sir, he had three friends with him. Is there any other wine you would like?" "Medoc will do." The wine was brought, and the waiter began searching about the table among the dishes. "What do you want?" demanded Rendeau Hillaire. "Pardon, sir, there is a fork missing-a private fork, belonging to a gentleman who dines here. It has been given some one by mistake, to day, and I must find it before Monsieur Delavignes-" "Confound him! Does he own the whole restaurant? What sort of man is he that he reserves the last dish of mushrooms, drinks up all the Haute Sauterne, and keeps a private fork?" [Missing] sir, and very eccentric." [Missing] so. Is that the fork?" [Missing] man showed the one he was [missing] a heavy fork of solid silver, finely chased with a coat of arms and the letter "D." "That is it, sir; pardon me, I will give you another." Much vexed at this last unconscious piece of rivalry between himself and Delavignes, Rendeau Hillaire completed his dinner in silence, paid for it, and left the restaurant, merely saying as he went out. "Waiter, has Monsieur Delavignes used up all the toothpicks? If not, I will take one." Sauntering out from the place, the young man perceived an elegant carriage drive up, and on glancing at it, he discovered the same coat of arms on its panels as that engraved on the fork. Having by this time conceived almost a dislike for Monsieur Delavignes, he hastened away without looking at the occupant of the vehicle, and beat his steps toward the hotel where Madame Fleurdorce, the reigning beauty of the day, resided. Rendeau Hillaire had for some ?? his cherished secret passion for this fair lady, and had, with much difficulty, succeeded in procuring an introduction to her, since which time his attentions to her had been most undivided. But she seemed to regard him coldly, and rumor whispered that she had a friend who possessed her entire affections. Who that friend was, rumor did not see fit to say. Madame Fleurdorce was at home, and was happy to see Monsieur Rendeau Hillaire. She chatted pleasantly with him, about the opera, the gay season, and similar topics, but carefully avoided anything which could lead the conversation into a more serious or tender path. This required some tact, for the young man missed no opportunity for pressing his suit, and ere he had been twenty minutes in her company, was verging, in spite of her, on the forbidden subject. There was only one thing thing to do-change the conversation, which she did, abruptly. "Are you fond of flowers, Monsieur Rendeau Hillaire?" "Extravagantly. My smoking room is a perfect conservatory." "Are not these camellias beautiful? They are of very rare colors." The charming widow handed him a large bouquet of camellias, which had ornamented the mantel, in a delicate vase of Sevres ware. "They are, indeed, lovely. What garden are they from? I have seen none like them in Paris." "I do not know where they were procured. They were given me this morning, by a connoisseur in such things-a Monsieur Delavignes." Rendeau Hillaire started. "I have heard of the gentleman," he said. After this his visit was tame. He was almost frightened by the persistency with which fate threw that mysterious personage across his path, and left the presence of the fair widow much earlier than he had intended, although not until he had gained her promise to accompany him to a grand masque ball to be given at the house of a mutual friend. The night of this ball arrived, without any further contretemps between Rendeau Hillaire and his unknown rival, and the former found Madame Fleurdorce quite charming in her pink domino. The salon of Count Vendiron, where the ball was given, was crowded, and everybody agreed that there had not been a more brilliant fete in all Paris for a year. At four o'clock in the morning Rendeau Hillaire and his fair partner prepared to depart, after having greatly enjoyed the occasion, but as they passed down the great stairway, a somewhat unpleasant occurrence took place, which rather marred their pleasure. A tall man in Spanish majo's costume, closely masked, opposed himself before them, and in a voice more or less affected by wine demanded why they were going so early. "I do not know you, sir," said Rendeau Hillaire, sternly; "let me pass, if you please." "I am appointed," said the majo, with an unsteady gesture, "by my friend, Count Vendiron, to see that no one leaves at an unreasonable hour. He has commissioned me to stop all who try to pass, and if they refuse to exact a kiss from each lady." Madame Fleurdorce trembled, and drew close to her cavalier's side. "This pleasantry is sadly out of place here," said Rendeau Hillaire; "if you are a friend of Count Vendiron I will let your impertinence pass unpunished, but I warn you not to continue in it." "Come, come" cried the stranger, balancing himself with difficulty, "you are too hasty. I have nothing to do with you, but I must claim my due-a kiss from your fair domino!" "Stand aside, fellow!" "Do you call me ‘fellow?'" "Stand aside, or I will throw you over the balustrade!" The majo sprang upon Rendeau Hillaire, and seizing both his arms, would have hurled him down the stairs, had not a young man, who was descending just behind, come to the rescue. This latter had hold of the short jacket and ample scarf of the majo whirled him round like a feather, and raising him clear of the low balustrade, dropped him easily to the floor some ten feet below. A tremendous excitement now ??, in consequence of the scream of Madame Fleurdorce and the crash of the fall. The staircase was instantly crowded, and the ball broken up in confusion. The impudent stranger was taken up and found to be only bruised a little. He walked to Rendeau Hillaire, demanded his card, handed him one in return, and disappeared before anybody could speak to him, or make more than a conjecture as to who he was. Rendeau Hillaire now endeavored to find his benefactor-the young man who had thrown the ruffian over the balustrade-but he was also missing. In the struggle his mask had slipped down, and exposed a pale, handsome face, with a black mustache, but Rendeau did not recognize it, although should they meet again, he would certainly remember it. The man in the majo's dress he thought he should know, too, by a large, curiously carved antique ring, with a blue stone on his little finger. On entering his apartments, after returning home, he examined the card which he had received. It bore the name of Delavignes, and address [unreadable] The next day Rendeau Hillaire dispatched a friend to the place mentioned in the card with a sarcastic note, saying that as Monsieur Delavignes had stood in his way on many occasions, he should be happy to have him stand in the way of any weapon whose use monsieur understood, at a certain time and place, to be arranged by their friends. This note brought an answer in due time, presenting Monsieur Delavigne's compliments to Monsieur Rendeau Hillaire, and saying that a meeting with small swords would be agreeable to him, although he did not quite understand the cause of quarrel between them, as he was not aware that he had ever had the honor of Monsieur Rendeau Hillaire's acquaintance. To this the last named gentleman replied in another note that he had been grossly insulted by Monsieur Delavignes, but if he was too drunk at the time to know what he was about, an apology would be accepted. Delavignes replied in turn that he did not get drunk, and had insulted no one. Furthermore, that the stigma of intoxication thus put upon him allowed him to listen to no further explanation. The result of all this correspondence was that the affair was arranged to come off on the morning of the Thursday following, in a meadow on the country estate of one of the seconds, not far from Paris. On the morning designated, the parties met at the meadow and commenced to make preparations. The two principals did not look at each other until all was in readiness; but when led forward by the seconds, an exclamation of surprise burst from the lips of Rendeau Hillaire. "Heaven bless me! This is not the man!" He recognized the pale, handsome face and black mustache of the young man who had thrown the ruffian in the majo costume down stairs at Count Vendiron's ball! "What do you say, sir?" asked Delavignes. I say that you are not the person that insulted me." "What do you mean?" "I mean that I was insulted by a man at a masked ball, and that you threw him over the balustrade, thereby, saving me from being thrown down by him. Instead of fighting you I wish to tender you mu most sincere thanks and to beg your pardon for this awkward mistake!" "But you challenged me-my name is Delavignes." "Stay! Is that your card?" "It is." "It was given me by the man you threw down stairs!" "Ah, ha! there is some strange error here." "Give me your hand, and let us seek the solution of it together as friends." "With all my heart!" And the two young men gave each other a friendly hand shake, and buried the deadly feelings with which they had first met, in the natural good-fellowship which is common to all who are brave and good-natured. "Now" said Delavignes's second, whose meadow had so providentially escaped being stained with blood, "now, let us dine here, at my chateau, and return to Paris together in one carriage." The invitation was accepted, and at a late hour the four returned in excellent spirits and on excellent terms with each other. As the carriage entered the suburbs of Paris, Monsieur Delavignes started in his seat. "Here, driver, stop. I have a duty to perform!" "What now?" chorused the rest. "Do you see that man?" pointing toward a richly-dressed but villainous looking fellow just issuing from a gaming house. "Yes we see him." "Well, that is the Marquis de Revillac-Brizy. He is a professional gambler, but having the entree of many respectable solons, has made almost a fortune by playing unfairly. One night I detected him in cheating, and denounced him before the whole company as a swindler of the worst kind, whose title and ancient family gave him all the better opportunities to fleece unsuspecting gentlemen. He said he was insulted, and we exchanged cards, but I have heard nothing of him since. Coach man, give us your whip." Before the party could hardly see what Delavignes was about, he had taken the carriage whip, and approached the Marquis de Revillac Brizy. "Do you know me?" he asked. "I do. You are Monsieur Delavignes-a man who-" "Who is about to administer to you the punishment which a coward and poltroon deserves." With which he took the decayed marquis by the collar, and gave him the most artistic horse whipping that that part of Paris had ever seen. When the unfortunate had received sufficient flagellation, Delavignes compelled him to apologize, and beckoned his friends to leave the carriage in order to witness the apology. "Now, then, rascal," said he, "we are quits. You skinned me at cards, and I have returned the compliment with a whip. You were afraid to fight when I desired, so I have taken all the fight into my own hands. I mistook you for a gentleman when I met you, and you mistook me for a fool, or you would never have cheated me first, then challenged me, and finally let the whole affair drop. Good-night, Monsieur le Marquis de Revillac Brizy. I hope you will profit by your lesson. "Pardie" growled the marquis, "if I remembered your address, you would have seen whether I dared to fight, or no!" "But I gave you my card." "And I lost it at a ball the very next night." "At Count Vendiron's ball, was it not?" asked Rendeau Hillaire, who had been intently regarding an antique ring, with a blue setting, on the marquis's little finger. "It was." "Ah, ha! then I, too, have a little score to settle with you. You were drunk last night, and insulted a lady who was with me." "I do not recollect anything about it." "You were too much intoxicated?" "Yes." "And are you sorry for what you did?" "Well-yes." "That is sufficient. Gentlemen, we have no further affair here. Let us return to our hotels." They re-entered their carriage. "Here is a curious coincidence," said Delavignes-"that you and I should both have a quarrel with a man, and that you should be near killing me for him! By the way, who was the lady who was with you at Count Vendiron's ball?" "Madame Fleurdorce." "A charming woman!" "Yes, indeed-but unapproachable." "How so?" "She has a favored suitor already." "No." "How do you know?" "I am exceedingly intimate with her, and would be aware of it if anybody was." "But you yourself-perhaps you are the one!" "Hardly likely." "Why so?" "She is my half sister." Twelve months afterward the beautiful widow Fleurdorce became Madame Hillaire. |