THE GOOD FELLOW. 695 



Charles, station yourself on my left, and let us effect an honourable retreat.' 

 Charles, foreseeing at the outset that matters would become worse, had at- 

 tempted to disappear ; but he must have his violin, which had been seized by 

 uncle Casar. Suddenly he saw himself surrounded, pushed by all the young 

 people, united to force Mongerand to retreat. The latter tried to make head 

 against them, and drive back the crowd : he was obliged to yield he had al- 

 ready gained the door of the staircase, when uncle Caesar handed Charles his 

 violin, saying, ' Here's your scratch.' Mongerand seized it and broke it on 

 the nose of uncle Caesar," saying, ' And here's my farewell.' " 



This was beyond endurance. Mongerand and Charles were kicked 

 down stairs. " What an infernal wedding," cried Mongerand ; " all 

 was going on so well but for the arrival of that old fool, who came 

 from Lyons expressly to spoil sport." Soon after Charles takes Mon- 

 gerand as an assistant minstrel : but we feel we have already tres- 

 passed too much upon our space; we shall therefore rapidly hurry to 

 the catastrophe. Charles sees his heroic wife perish with her son in 

 their abode of misery. A rich uncle takes away his daughter, and 

 gives him a thousand crowns to send him to the Colonies. He is 

 going to start, when he meets Mongerand, who had acquired some 

 property by the death of his own wife, and who persuades him to go 

 to England on a matrimonial expedition. " I have an idea," said he, 

 " that I will turn the head of some lady. She will have a million will 

 marry me. I'll give you half of it, and you'll have no need of taking 

 the leap of Niagara." Eight years after this, Charles returns to Paris 

 in a most miserable plight. The first place he visits is the tomb of 

 his wife. He attempts to see his daughter ; but she knows him not, 

 and gives him alms. Soon after he meets Mongerand, and the fol- 

 lowing closing scene takes place. 



" ' So ! you did not expect to see me here/ said Mongerand ; ' did you ? 

 I came precisely because you foibade me ; such is my custom. I have deter- 

 mined to keep you company/ ' Leave me to my grief I can no longer bear 

 your presence/ said Charles with impatience : ' it augments my despair. 

 You have caused my misfortunes, leading me to commit folly upon folly.' 

 Oh, then it is my fault that you should like pleasure, women and wine !' 

 ' But for your advice I had listened to my wife, and should not have caused 

 her death.' ' You have assumed a tone which I had punished in any 

 other.' While saying this, Mongerand planted himself before Charles to stop 

 his passage ; the'latter flung him aside, and proceeded on his way. ' Inso- 

 lent fellow ! ' said Mongerand, ' but that I pity you' ' Pity !' cried Charles 

 retracing his steps with haste, and scowling upon him, ' You pity me 

 wretch ! this last disgrace alone was wanting beware lest I avenge the death 

 of my wife and son! ' 'Charles, you heap insult upon insult.' ' You have 

 arms, avenge yourself; give me one of those pistols! ' ' Begone, Charles ! 

 I'll not follow you.' ' Ha ! coward, you are fit only for deeds of baseness ! ' 

 ' Coward ! ' cried Mongerand, with flashing eyes, ' you compel me let's to 

 it then ! ' He took two pistols from his pocket, examined their loading, then 

 presenting one to Charles, he drew back ten paces. ' Come, let us fire toge- 

 ther, and finish the affair.' They raised their pistols and fired almost at the 

 same instant. Mongerand heard the ball whistle by his ear ; Charles received 

 that of his adversary in his heart he fell and expired, muttering the name of 

 his daughter. Mongerand went up to him : at first he was for assisting him ; 

 but, observing that he was dead, he quietly put the pistols into his pocket, 

 and departed, saying : ' 'Tis a pity HE WAS A GOOD FELLOW ! ' " 



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