A Tramp Abroad - The Original Classic Edition. Twain Mark

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       near-sighted, it seems to me that this conflict need not necessarily be fatal. There are chances that both of you may survive. Therefore, cheer up; do not be downhearted."

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       This speech had so good an effect that my principal immediately stretched forth his hand and said, "I am myself again; give me the weapon."

       I laid it, all lonely and forlorn, in the center of the vast solitude of his palm. He gazed at it and shuddered. And still mournfully contemplating it, he murmured in a broken voice:

       "Alas, it is not death I dread, but mutilation."

       I heartened him once more, and with such success that he presently said, "Let the tragedy begin. Stand at my back; do not desert me in this solemn hour, my friend."

       I gave him my promise. I now assisted him to point his pistol toward the spot where I judged his adversary to be standing, and cautioned him to listen well and further guide himself by my fellow-second's whoop.

       Then I propped myself against M. Gambetta's back, and raised a rousing

       "Whoop-ee!" This was answered from out the far distances of the fog, and

       I immediately shouted:

       "One--two--three--FIRE!"

       Two little sounds like SPIT! SPIT! broke upon my ear, and in the same instant I was crushed to the earth under a mountain of flesh. Bruised as I was, I was still able to catch a faint accent from above, to this effect:

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       "I die for... for ... perdition take it, what IS it I die for? ... oh, yes--FRANCE! I die that France may live!"

       The surgeons swarmed around with their probes in their hands, and applied their microscopes to the whole area of M. Gambetta's person, with the happy result of finding nothing in the nature of a wound. Then a scene ensued which was in every way gratifying and inspiriting.

       The two gladiators fell upon each other's neck, with floods of proud and

       happy tears; that other second embraced me; the surgeons, the orators, the undertakers, the police, everybody embraced, everybody congratulated, everybody cried, and the whole atmosphere was filled with praise and with joy unspeakable.

       It seems to me then that I would rather be a hero of a French duel than a crowned and sceptered monarch.

       When the commotion had somewhat subsided, the body of surgeons held a consultation, and after a good deal of debate decided that with proper

       care and nursing there was reason to believe that I would survive my injuries. My internal hurts were deemed the most serious, since it was apparent that a broken rib had penetrated my left lung, and that many of my organs had been pressed out so far to one side or the other of where they belonged, that it was doubtful if they would ever learn to perform their functions in such remote and unaccustomed localities. They then

       set my left arm in two places, pulled my right hip into its socket again, and re-elevated my nose. I was an object of great interest,

       and even admiration; and many sincere and warm-hearted persons had

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       themselves introduced to me, and said they were proud to know the only man who had been hurt in a French duel in forty years.

       I was placed in an ambulance at the very head of the procession;

       and thus with gratifying 'ECLAT I was marched into Paris, the most conspicuous figure in that great spectacle, and deposited at the hospital.

       The cross of the Legion of Honor has been conferred upon me. However, few escape that distinction.

       Such is the true version of the most memorable private conflict of the

       age.

       I have no complaints to make against any one. I acted for myself, and I

       can stand the consequences.

       Without boasting, I think I may say I am not afraid to stand before a modern French duelist, but as long as I keep in my right mind I will never consent to stand behind one again.

       CHAPTER IX

       [What the Beautiful Maiden Said]

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       One day we took the train and went down to Mannheim to see "King Lear"

       played in German. It was a mistake. We sat in our seats three whole hours and never understood anything but the thunder and lightning; and even that was reversed to suit German ideas, for the thunder came first and the lightning followed after.

       The behavior of the audience was perfect. There were no rustlings, or whisperings, or other little disturbances; each act was listened to in silence, and the applauding was done after the curtain was down. The doors opened at half past four, the play began promptly at half past

       five, and within two minutes afterward all who were coming were in their

       seats, and quiet reigned. A German gentleman in the train had said that a Shakespearian play was an appreciated treat in Germany and that

       we should find the house filled. It was true; all the six tiers were

       filled, and remained so to the end--which suggested that it is not only balcony people who like Shakespeare in Germany, but those of the pit and gallery, too.

       Another time, we went to Mannheim and attended a shivaree--otherwise an opera--the one called "Lohengrin." The banging and slamming and booming and crashing were something beyond belief. The racking and pitiless pain

       of it remains stored up in my memory alongside the memory of the time

       that I had my teeth fixed.

       There were circumstances which made it necessary for me to stay through the four hours to the end, and I stayed; but the recollection of that

       long, dragging, relentless season of suffering is indestructible. To

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       have to endure it in silence, and sitting still, made it all the harder.

       I was in a railed compartment with eight or ten strangers, of the two sexes, and this compelled repression; yet at times the pain was so exquisite that I could hardly keep the tears back.

       At those times, as the howlings and wailings and shrieking of the singers, and the ragings and roarings and explosions of the vast orchestra rose higher and higher, and wilder and wilder, and fiercer and fiercer, I could have cried if I had been alone. Those strangers would not have been surprised to see a man do such a thing who was being gradually skinned, but they would have marveled at it here, and made

       remarks about it no doubt, whereas there was nothing in the present case which was an advantage over being skinned.

       There was a wait of half an hour at the end of the first act, and I could have gone out and rested during that time, but I could not trust myself to do it, for I felt that I should desert to stay out. There was another wait of half an hour toward nine o'clock, but I had gone through so much by that time that I had no spirit left, СКАЧАТЬ