LORD RUNSWICK AND ANTOINETTE JOSSELIN
who struck it with his cane (for he was "en pékin," it appears—in mufti); and Lord Runswick laid his own cane across the Frenchman's back; and next morning they fought with swords, by the Mare aux Biches, in the Bois de Boulogne—a little secluded, sedgy pool, hardly more than six inches deep and six yards across. Barty and I have often skated there as boys.
The Englishman was run through at the first lunge, and fell dead on the spot.
A few years ago Barty met the son of the man who killed Lord Runswick—it was at the French Embassy in Albert Gate. They were introduced to each other, and M. Rondelis told Barty how his own father's life had been poisoned by sorrow and remorse at having had "la main si malheureuse" on that fatal morning by the Mare aux Biches.
Poor Antoinette, mad with grief, left the stage, and went with her little boy to live in the Pollet, near her parents. Three years later she died there, of typhus, and Barty was left an orphan and penniless; for Lord Runswick had been poor, and lived beyond his means, and died in debt.
Lord Archibald Rohan, a favorite younger brother of Runswick's (not the heir), came to Dieppe from Dover (where he was quartered with his regiment, the 7th Royal Fusileers) to see the boy, and took a fancy to him, and brought him back to Dover to show his wife, who was also French—a daughter of the old Gascon family of Lonlay‑Savignac, who had gone into trade (chocolate) and become immensely rich. They (the Rohans) had been married eight years, and had as yet no children of their own. Lady Archibald was delighted with the child, who was quite beautiful. She fell in love with the little creature at the first sight of him—and fed him, on the evening of his arrival, with crumpets and buttered toast. And in return he danced "La Dieppoise" for her, and sang her a little ungrammatical ditty in praise of wine and women. It began:
"Beuvons, beuvons, beuvons donc
De ce vin le meilleur du monde ...
Beuvons, beuvons, beuvons donc
De ce vin, car il est très‑bon!
Si je n'en beuvions pas,
J'aurions la pépi‑e!
Ce qui me...."
"Beuvons, beuvons, beuvons donc
De ce vin le meilleur du monde ...
Beuvons, beuvons, beuvons donc
De ce vin, car il est très‑bon!
Si je n'en beuvions pas,
J'aurions la pépi‑e!
Ce qui me...."
I have forgotten the rest—indeed, I am not quite sure that it is fit for the drawing‑room!
"Ah, mon Dieu! quel amour d'enfant! Oh! gardons‑le!" cried my lady, and they kept him.