"A month, the day after to-morrow, monsieur. I remember that fatal day perfectly well; they brought the poor fellow home in a cab, with a bullet in his side; I went for the doctor; and when he tried to take out the bullet, the wounded man shut his eyes—and it was all over."
"Albert had returned to Paris, then?"
"Yes, monsieur; he came back first after he'd been gone quite a long while, but he only stayed about a week and then went off again. When he fought this duel, he'd only come home the night before."
"Whom did he fight with? what was it about?"
"Mon Dieu! monsieur, nobody knows; the poor young man died so soon; he wasn't able to say anything; he didn't take anybody with him for a second but Joseph, his servant, who told us that his master fought a duel with pistols near Pantin, with a young man he, Joseph, didn't know, and who didn't have any second. You see, he hadn't been in Monsieur Albert's service long. As to the cause of the quarrel, he didn't know anything about it. I remember seeing a messenger go up to Monsieur Albert's rooms that day; I suppose he came to bring the challenge. That's all I know."
"It's all very obscure. Where is this Joseph? I should like to talk with him."
"He's gone back to his province. As Monsieur Albert was dead, Monsieur Vermoncey didn't keep him. Ah! that poor man—he's terribly broken up; he don't go out, nor see anyone. But, if you'd like to try to see him, monsieur——"
"No, no, it's not necessary; I have no desire to disturb his grief.—Well, as poor Albert is dead, there's nothing for me to do but go away."
Tobie Pigeonnier returned to his cabriolet, reflecting profoundly on what he had learned. He alighted on Boulevard des Italiens, and stalked proudly into Tortoni's, where he found Mouillot and Balivan, the two loyal habitués.
The young men exclaimed in surprise when they saw Tobie smilingly draw near, take a seat at their table, and order chocolate, rolls and butter, with the air of a man who is not afraid to spend his money.