e that de Boignes, unable to restrain himself, called
out excitedly: "_Mais, tirez donc, Monsieur!_" With a nod, de
Beauvallon pressed the trigger. There was an answering flash and a
report; and, as the smoke drifted away, Dujarier reeled and fell,
blood gushing from his mouth and nostrils.

When Dr. de Guise examined him, he looked grave. He saw at once that
the injury was serious. As a matter of fact, Dujarier was dead before
they returned to Paris.

As the cab reached the house in the rue Lafitte, Lola, waiting there
in an agony of suspense, heard the rumble of wheels. Rushing
downstairs, she stepped back with a cry of terror, for three men were
carrying a heavy burden into the hall. Instinctively, she realised
that the worst had happened, that her suspense was at an end.

"Mademoiselle, we have ill tidings for you," said de Boignes.

"I know it," said Lola. "Dujarier is killed. I felt sure this would
happen. You should not have let him fight."

The funeral of Dujarier, which took place a couple of days later in
the cemetery at Montmartre, was attended by characteristic pomp. The
velvet pall above his coffin was held by Balzac, Dumas, and Joseph
Mery, and a flowery "oration" delivered at the graveside by Emile de
Girardin:

"Whether it endure but a single day, or be deep and
prolonged, Man's sorrow is always barren and profitless. It
cannot restore to a disconsolate mother, bemoaning her
untimely loss, the son for whom she weeps, or give him back
to his friends.... Let the words written by Dujarier: 'I am
about to fight a duel for the most absurd and futile of
causes,' never be effaced from our memory. Farewell,
Dujarier! Rest in peace! Let us carry away from the
graveside the hope that the recollection of so lamentable an
end will last long enough to shield others from a similar
one. Let all mothers--still astounded and trembling--derive
some measure of confidence from this hope, and pray to God
for poor Dujarier with all the fervour of their souls!"

As may be imagined, talk followed. A vast amount of talk, in the
newspapers and elsewhere. "The topic was discussed," one reads, "at
the royal table itself by the family of Louis-Philippe; and Queen
Amelie and Aunt Adelaide stigmatised the conduct of this wicked hussy,
Lola Montez, in severe terms."

IV

After such an experience, Lola felt that she had had enough of France
for a time. Accor