A Coon Avenger.
--A certain English gentleman, who was a regular frequenter of the green-room of Drucy Lane Theatre in the days of Lord Byron's committee, and who always stood quietly on the hearth- rug there with his back to the fire, was in his usual place one night, when a narrative was related by another gentleman, newly returned from the continent, of a barrier duel that had taken place in Paris
A young Englishman — a mere boy — had been despoiled in a gambling house in the Palaces Royal
, and charged a certain gaming Count
with cheating him; had gone out with the Count
, wasted his fire, and had been slain by the Count
, under the frightful circumstances of the Count
's walking up to him, laying his hand on his heart, saying: ‘ "You are a brave fellow, have you a mother?"’ And, on his replying in the affirmative, remarking coolly, ‘"I am sorry for her,"’ and blowing his brains out. The gentleman on the hearth-rug paused in taking his snuff to hear the story, and observed, with great placidity, ‘"I am afraid I must kill that rascal."’ A few nights elapsed, during which the green-room hearth-rug was without him, and then he reappeared precisely as before, and only incidentally mentioned, in the course of the evening, ‘ "Gentlemen, I killed that rascal,"’ He had gone over to Paris
on purpose, and tracked the Count
to the same gambling house, had thrown a glass of wine in his face in the presence of the company assembled there, had told him that he had come to avenge his young compatriot — and had done it by putting the Count
out of the world, and coming back to the hearth-rug as if nothing had happened.