you and I are banded together to destroy life, not make
it eternal."

But with all my persuasions, all my arguments, I was only
able to get him to reduce the distance to thirty-five yards;
and even this concession he made with reluctance,
and said with a sigh, "I wash my hands of this slaughter;
on your head be it."

There was nothing for me but to go home to my old
lion-heart and tell my humiliating story. When I entered,
M. Gambetta was laying his last lock of hair upon the altar.
He sprang toward me, exclaiming:

"You have made the fatal arrangements--I see it in your eye!"

"I have."

His face paled a trifle, and he leaned upon the table
for support. He breathed thick and heavily for a moment
or two, so tumultuous were his feelings; then he hoarsely
whispered:

"The weapon, the weapon! Quick! what is the weapon?"

"This!" and I displayed that silver-mounted thing.
He cast but one glance at it, then swooned ponderously
to the floor.

When he came to, he said mournfully: