"Alphonse Signol, on very pressing business."
I thought it was about his drama, and, as I did not consider that business so pressing as Signol did, and as I was very tired, I went to bed and told my servant to tell any caller that I was not at home. Towards five o'clock I woke and rang. Signol had returned and written another note, which, when brought to me, contained these words:—
"DEAR DUMAS,—I fight a duel with swords to-morrow morning with M. Marulaz, lieutenant of the 3rd Guards Regiment. I told you I should ask you to be my second and I came this morning to beg you to render me that service. You were not at home, so I had to look for someone else. I have found a substitute. If I am killed, I bequeath le Chiffonnier to your charge; it will be the only source of income I have to leave to my mother.
"Vale et me ama "SIGNOL"
This letter filled me with sad thoughts for the rest of that day and night. I had no notion where Signol lived, or whether he had a home at all, so I could not send to him. I suddenly bethought me that I might possibly gain news of him at the café des Variétés, which he frequented most days; also, a month previous to this time, he had had a quarrel with Soulié, which had ended in the exchange of a couple of pistol shots. It was now nearly five o'clock in the afternoon. Rochefort (a friend of mine, a clever fellow who composed several original plays, one of them being Jocko, besides some delightful poems) was taking a glass of absinthe at one of the café tables. He rose when he caught sight of me.
"Ah!" he said, scratching his nose,'a habit he had, "you know poor Signol!..."
"Well?"
"He has just been killed!"
I heaved a sigh, although, really, it was no news to me, for my presentiments had already told me Rochefort's news. Here is an account of what had happened. When he left me two nights before, he had gone to get his stall ticket from the Théâtre-Italien. By ill-luck they gave him a stall in the orchestra. A second unfortunate coincidence decreed that an officer and soldiers of the 3rd Regiment of the Guard should be on duty that night at the Italiens. There was an empty seat in front of Signol, which an officer came and appropriated at the conclusion of the first act. He was the son of General Marulaz, now, I believe, himself a general. It was not really his turn on duty, but he had taken the place of one of his friends; his friend had a special engagement that night (notice the strange chain of circumstances!), he therefore begged Marulaz to be so good as to take his place. Marulaz consented, and had hardly sat down before he felt two hands leaning on the back of his stall. He did not think any rudeness was intended by the action, so he did not take any notice at first; but when the hands remained there for ten minutes, he turned round and saw that they belonged to Signol. Marulaz politely intimated that the back of his seat was not the right place for Signol's hands and, without replying, Signol withdrew them. The young officer thought the incident was accidental, and accordingly attached no significance to it. Five minutes later, on leaning back in his seat, he again felt the hands there. He did not wait this time, but turned round immediately.
"Monsieur," he said, "I have already intimated to you that your hands annoy me there; have the goodness to put them in your pockets if you have no other place for them, but please be so good as to take them off my seat!"