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Updated: June 12, 2025
I caught myself wishing that I was a boy again, with an hour's romp on the sheeny crust in view. Gradually the mantle of peace fell upon me, and there was a sense of rest. I was going to forgive the world the wrong it had done me; perhaps it would feel ashamed of itself and reward me for my patience. So Hillars was "going to pieces."
"No," said I coldly; "he was shot." "Oh, I know that," was the reply; "but give a conditioned man the same wound and he will recover, nine times out of ten. The elder Hillars was so enervated by drink that he had no strength to fight the fever which came on top of the bullet-hole. Something happened over there; and it's pounds to pence there's a woman back of the curtain.
I've taught the Frenchman who represents the Paris Temps how to play poker, and he threatens to become my Frankenstein, who will eventually devour me." Hillars laughed, and it sounded like the laughter of other days. "Jack, I think you will do me good. Stay with me and keep me away from the bottle if you can. No man drinks for pure love of liquor.
If you can get any photographs do so. I know how you dislike this sort of work, prying into private affairs, as you call it, but with all these sensational sheets springing up around us, we must keep in line now and then. Do you know anything about Hillars; is he dead or alive? Take all the time you want for the story and send it by mail." "The Princess Hildegarde!" I cried aloud.
I had spoken my few lines and was going behind the scenes out of which I had come. As I waited for Pembroke the past two years went by as in a panorama. I thought of the old lawyer and the thousand-dollar check; the night at the opera with Phyllis; the meeting of Hillars and his story. "When there is nothing more to live for, it is time to die."
But instead of kissing it, I pressed my lips on her round white arm. As though my lips burned, she drew back. "Have a care, monsieur; have a care," she said, icily. "Such a kiss has to be won." I stammered an apology and stepped out. Then I heard a low laugh. "Good night, Mr. Hillars; you are a brave gentleman!" The door closed and the vehicle sped away into the darkness.
No attention was given to the horse. The others were watching Hillars. He stood perfectly motionless. All at once the pistol fell from his hand; then both hands flew instinctively to his breast. There was an expression of surprise on his face. His eyes closed, his knees bent forward, and he sank into the road a huddled heap.
The arms raised slowly till the pistols were on the level of the eyes. "Two!" The innkeeper saw Hillars move his lips. That was the only sign. "Three!" The pistols exploded simultaneously. The right arm of the Prince swung back violently, the smoking pistol flying from his hand. Suddenly one of the horses gave a snort of pain and terror, and bolted down the road.
If there was such a place as Elysium in the nether world, Hillars and I should talk it all over there. It is pleasant to contemplate the fact that when we are dead we shall know "the reason why." "Come along," said Pembroke, entering. So we went to the opera. They are full of wonderful scenes, these continental opera houses.
Now and then he lifted his head and gazed inquiringly at the two figures in the road. "Is it bad, Herr?" the innkeeper asked. "Very. Get back to the inn. I don't want to peter out here." Then he fainted. It required some time and all the innkeeper's strength to put Hillars on the horse. When this was accomplished he turned the horse's head toward the inn. And that was all. "Dan?" said I.
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