His Masterpiece

been roaming forgetfully about the Central Markets, during that burning July night, like a loitering artist enamoured of nocturnal Paris.

fear of the rain to be idiotic; and so amid the pitch-like darkness, under the lashing shower

panes of the high, shutterless windows, showing up the melancholy frontages of the old-fashioned dwellings in all their details; here a stone balcony, there the railing of a terrace, and there a garland sculptured on a frieze. The painter had his studio

of the Headle

sed-indeed, he started-on finding a living, breathing body huddled against the woodwork. Then, by the light of a second flash, he perceived a tall y

ne! Who are you, an

e her; he only heard

door, after ill-treating me. Yes, a train ran off the rails, near Nevers. We were four hours late, and a person

y outlined above, while the horizon suddenly became clear on the left as far as the blue slate eaves of the Hotel de Ville, and on the right as far as the leaden-hued dome of St. Paul. What startled her most of all, however, was the hollow of the stream, the deep gap in which the Seine flowed, black and turgid, from the heavy piles of the Pont Marie, to the light arches of

d train and a brutal cabman, seemed to him a ridiculous invention. At the second t

stop here all

, 'I beseech you, monsieur, take me

lly, however, he turned towards the Quai des Celestins, where the

Where do you think one can pick up a cab

la Masure, and the Rue du Paon-Blanc, which made breaks in the line of frontages; then near the Pont Marie one could have counted the leaves on the lofty plane trees, which there form a bouquet of magnificent verdure; while on the other side, beneath the Pont Louis Philippe, at the Mail, the barges, ranged in a quadruple line, had flared with the piles of yellow apples with which they were heavily laden.

ver. Oh, heaven! wha

mpelled by so strong a wind that it swept along the quay

' said Claude; 'I can

zed with compassion. Had he not once picked up a cur on such a stormy night as this? Yet he felt angry with himself for softening. He never had anything to do with women; he treated them all as if ignorant of their existence, with a painful timidity which he disguis

ame even more frightened

; it's impossible. I beseech you, monsie

was willing to give her shelter? He had already rung the bell t

nsieur; I t

d inside, scarce knowing what she was about. The heavy door had closed

oorkeeper. Then he added, in a whisper, 'Give

y could across the yard. It was a baronial courtyard, huge, and surrounded with stone arcades, indistinct amidst the gloom. However, they came to a narrow passage without

and be careful,' said Claud

uching the walls on both sides with her outstretched hands, as she advanced along that endless passage which bent and came back to the front of the building on the quay. Then there were still other stairs right under the roof-creaking, shaky wood

wait, else you'll

her as if she had been climbing for hours, in such a maze, amidst such a turning and twisting of stairs that she would never be able to find her way down again. Inside the studio there

it's all r

astically on the walls, which were painted in grey distemper. No, she did not distinguish anything. She mechanically raised her eyes to the large studio-window, against which the rain was beating with a deafening roll

ale. 'That clap wasn't far off. We were just in tim

it with a bang and turned the key, w

ow, we ar

means bad looking, and assuredly she was young: twenty at the most. This scrutiny had the effect of making him more suspicious of her still, in spite of an unconscious feeling, a vague idea, that she was

k him straight in the face. And the aspect of that bony young man, with his angular joints and wild bearded face, increas

for he placed his bed at her disposal, she shrinkingly repli

,' he retorted. 'Come now, don

ide an old screen, behind which she noticed a washstand and a

t worth while; I assure yo

became angry, gesticulati

s I give you my bed, what have you to complain of? You nee

s going to strike her, she tremblingly unfastened her hat. The water was dripping from her skirts. He kept

ke to sleep in my she

took a clean pair from the wardrobe and began to make the bed with all the deftness of a bachelor accustomed to that kind of t

ll do; won't

he was on the point of blowing out the candle, however, he reflected that if he did so she would have to undress in the dark, and so he waited. At first he had not heard her stir; she had no doubt remained standing against the iron bedstead. But at last

oiselle?' now asked Claude,

e replied, in a scarcely audible voic

, then. Go

d-ni

-minded; he imagined a romance concocted to destroy his tranquillity, and he gibed contentedly at having frustrated it. His experience of women was very slight, nevertheless he endeavoured to draw certain conclusions from the story she had told him, struck as he was at present by certain petty details, and feeling perplexed. But why, after all, should he worry his brain? What did it matter whether she had told him the truth or a lie? In the morning she would go off; ther

ch. Why the devil had he been sleeping there? His eyes, still heavy with sleep, wandered mechanically round the studio, when, all at once, beside the screen he noticed a heap of petticoats. Then he at once remembered the girl. He began to listen, and heard a sound of long-drawn, regular breathing, like that of a child comfortably asleep. Ah! so she was s

s lying on the floor. Some water had dripped from them, but they were damp still. And so, while grumbling in a low tone, he ended by picking them up one by one and spreading them over the chairs in the sunlight. Had one ever seen the like, clothes thrown about anyhow? They would never get dry, and she would never go off! He turned all that feminine apparel over very awkwardly, got entangled wi

habitual shrug of the shoulders, he was taking up his brushes, when he heard some words stammered amidst a rustling of bed-clothes. Then, however, soft breathing was heard again, and this time he y

unshine, unconscious of everything. In her feverish slumbers a shoulder button had become unfastened, and a sleeve slipping down allowed her bosom to be seen, with skin whi

he's a beauty!' mutte

t for his picture, and it was almost in the right pose. S

. No thought of sex came to him. It was all a mere question of chaste outlines, splendid flesh tints, well-set muscles. Face to face with nature, an uneasy mistrust of his powers made him feel small; so, squaring his elbows, he became very attentive and respectful

r else there was some still more intricate drama beneath it all; something horrible, inexplicable, the truth of which he would never fathom. All these hypotheses increased his perplexity. Meanwhile, he went on sketching her face, studying it with care. The whole of the upper part, the clear forehead, as smooth as a polished mirror, the small nose, with its delicately chiselled and nervous nostrils, denoted great kindliness and gentleness. One divined

erhaps she had felt the weight of that gaze thus mentally di

reat h

oung man crouching in his shirt-sleeves in front of her and devouring her

de, angrily, his crayon suspended in

ely limited to professional models, was a

pane tightly wrapped round her throat, her body almost doubl

ed Claude. 'Come, just lie as

ears. At last she stammered,

her obstinacy stupid. And as in response to his urgent requests she only began to sob, he quite lost his head in despair

you at all? You know I haven't. Besides, listen, it is very unkind of you to ref

o cry, with her head

much in want of this sketch

h with her, so he held his tongue at last, feeling embarrassed, and wishing too th

s a question of painting, I'd kill father and mother, you know. Well, you'll excuse me, won't you? And if you'd like me to be very nice, you'd just give me a few minutes more. No, no; keep quiet as you are

ad not stirred, but remained crouching on his low chair, at a distance from the bed. At last she risked the ordeal, a

ying a word, she slowly brought her bare arm from beneath the coverings, and again slipped

I'll make haste, you wi

left her cheeks, and her lips parted in a vague confiding smile. And from between her half-opened eyelids she began to study him. How he had frightened her the previous night with his thick brown beard, his large head, and his impulsive gestures. And yet he was not ugly; she even detected great tenderness in the depths of his brown eyes, while his nose altogether surprised her. It was a finely-cut woman's nose,

k used on the previous night stood on the floor, which looked as if it had not been swept for fully a month. There was only the cuckoo clock, a huge one, with a dial illuminated with crimson flowers, that looked clean and bright, ticking sonorously all the while. But what especially frightened her were some sketches in oils that hung frameless from the walls, a serried array of sketches reaching to the floor, where they mingled with heaps of canvases thrown about anyhow. She had never seen such terrible painting, so coarse, so glaring, showing a violence of colour, that jarred upon her nerves like a carter's oath heard on the doorstep

first, in order to be polite, and more especially to divert her attention from her pose.

ch she had closed, as if

ine,' s

er his name. Since the night before they had been t

me is

It was the sudden, merry peal of a big girl, still scarcely more than a hoyden. She

hristine-they begin

to continue the conversation. He fancied that she was beginning to feel tired and uncomfortable, and in hi

elf ever since she had felt easier in mind. Truth to tell, the heat was indeed so oppressive that it

she said, seriously, though m

continued, with a

d of sunshine on one's skin does one good. We could have

tion, questioned her about her adventure, without, however, feeling inquisitive, for he car

n settled by letter upon a means of recognition. She was to wear a black hat with a grey feather in it. But, a little above Nevers, her train had come upon a goods train which had run off the rails, its litter of smashed trucks still obstructing the line. There was quite a series of mishaps and delays. First an interminable wait in the carriages, which the passengers had to quit at last, luggage and a

ptical, though half disarmed, in his surprise at the neat

as no one at the station

k station, deserted at that late hour of night. She had not dared to take a cab at first, but had kept on walking up and down, carrying her small bag, and still hoping that somebody wo

ting as interested as if he were listening

oors. After that I felt more easy, because the cab trundled along all right through the lighted streets, and I saw people about. At last I recognised the Seine, for though I was never in Paris before, I had often looked at a map. Naturally I thought he would keep along the qu

have invented that driver. And as she suddenly stopped, somewha

d not pay him. It was raining in torrents, and the quay was absolutely deserted. I was losing my head, and when I had pulled out a five-franc piece, he whipped up his horse and dr

which had rattled by furiously while he was crossing the Pont Louis Philippe, amid the downpour of the storm. And he reflected how improbable truth

at Passy, and that I should have to spend the night there, in this terrible Paris. And there was the thu

of quays stretching away in a furnace-like blaze, the deep moat of the river, with its leaden waters obstructed by huge black masses, ligh

resumed his drawing. But she became

, with an air of concern, as if to excuse his curtness: 'Your p

e no p

nor mother? You are al

all

im to retire from active service. For nearly five years afterwards, her mother, a Parisian by birth, had remained in that dull provincial town, managing as well as she could with her scanty pension, but eking it out by fan-painting, in order that she might bring up her daughter as a lady. She had, however, now been dead for fifteen months,

adventure, all taking so romantic a turn, made him relapse into embarrassment again, into all his former aw

pretty?' he a

own. Besides, I don't know

if talking to herself in a very low voice, sti

id not get on very well; first, because I fell ill, then because I paid no attention. I was always laughing and skipping about like

and interrupted h

nted, made me do a little water-colour, and I sometimes helped he

psy-turvy view of the study of herself which the painter had begun, and her consternation at the violent tones she noticed, the rough crayon strokes, with which the shadows were dashed off, prevented her from asking to look at it more clos

discomfort. A sudden feeling of sham

d for your kindness, mademoiselle. Forgive me, I have really abused it.

upon advising her to rise. All at once, as the real state of things struck him, he swung his arms about like a madman, set the screen in position, and went to

d, he failed to hear her hesitat

e caught

u be so kind-I can'

ntly rubbing them together, and he handed them to her over the partition; again noticing her arm, bare, plump and rosy like that of a child. Then he tossed the skirts on to the foot of the bed and pushed her boots forward, leavi

e. Open the drawer and take a clean towel. Do y

t he was blundering a

you. I will leave you to your own

et done; it would mean a loss of his whole morning. Without deciding anything, as soon as he had lighted his spirit lamp, he washed his saucepan and began to make some chocolate. He thought it more distingue, feeling rat

as it were, in a twinkle. Her rosy face did not even show traces of the water, her thick hair was twisted in a knot at the back of her head, not a s

o about everything i

She was evidently no longer afraid of him. It seemed as though she had re-donned her armour and become an amaz

kfast with m

going to the station, where my trunk must have a

must be hungry, that it was unreasonable

go down and fetch you a ca

t take suc

foot. Let me at least take you to t

ou. If you wish to oblige m

night, she meant to tell some falsehood, and keep the recollection of her adventure entirely to herself. He made a furious gesture, which was tantamount to sendi

n. I sha'n't resort

ly arranged and smoothed the ribbons, her face turned towards the golden rays of the sun. Somewhat surprised, Claude looked in vain for the traits of childish softness that he had just portrayed; the upper part of her face, her clear foreh

ed tone, 'I do not think you hav

help laughing, with a

sieur, not i

rembled before him, had she become contemptuously surprised at having trembled at all? What! he had not made the slightest attempt at courtship, not even pres

edate once more, 'that the cabstand is at

where there is a

in front of her. As her eyes met the big canvas turned to the wall she felt a wish to see it, but did not dare to ask. Nothing detained her; stil

a small loaf placed erect against

stopped to breakfast with me. My doorke

anding she turned round, and for a moment remained quite still. H

thank you

a few moments, closely and cordially pressed. The young girl was still smiling at him, and he had a question on the tip o

ye, mon

e, madem

stairway whose steps creaked, when Claude turned abruptly into his studio, clo

ho had just gone, had not fooled him most abominably? And he had been silly enough to believe in her cock-and-bull stories! All his suspicions revived. No one would ever make him swallow that fairy tale of the general's widow, the railway accident, and especially the cabman. Did such things ever happen in r

eat deal of fuss he began to make it himself, lifting the mattress in his arms, banging the pillow about with his fists, and feeling oppressed by the pure scent of youth that rose from everything. Then he had a good wash to cool himself, and in the

e suddenly exclaimed. 'It must be this

l with the roof, and inhaled, with an air of profound relief, the whiff of warm air that entere