His Masterpiece

overwhelms the faithless one with insults although tortured by an uncontrollable desire to worship her yet again. So on the Thursday, after three frightful days of fruitless and sol

o, it was needful that he should look up some comrades with whom to quarrel, and, above all, walk about and t

latter must be at his office. Then the thought of Dubuche occurred to him, but he hesitated, for their old friendship had lately been cooling down. He felt that the fraternity of the earlier times of effort no longer existed between them. He guessed that Dubuche lacked intell

For a moment he strolled along aimlessly; but, as he paused at the corner of the Rue de Seine, not knowing which way to go, he suddenly recollected what his friend had told him about a certain night spent at the Dequersonniere studio-a night of terrible hard work, the eve of the day on which the pupils' designs had to be deposited at the School of Arts. At once he walked towards the Rue du

ards to reach a third, across which ran a sort of big closed shed, a huge out-house of board and plaster work, which had once served as a packing-case maker's wor

pile of coke that had not been swept away; while at the other end a large iron cistern with a tap was suspended between two towels. And amidst the bare untidiness of this shed, the eye was especially attracted by the walls which, above, displayed a litter of plaster casts ranged in haphazard fashion on shelves, and disappeared lower down behind forests of T-squares and bevels, and piles of drawing boards, tied together with webbing straps. Bit by bit, such parts of the partitions as had remained unoccupied had bec

o the French Art Sc

hich students enter

the prizes offered f

term of residence, t

who had no designs to exhibit-'the niggers,' as they were called remaining to help the others, the competitors who, being behind time, had to knock off the work of a week in a dozen hours. Already, at midnight, they had stuffed themselves with brawn, saveloys, and similar viands, washed down with cheap wine. Towards one o'clock they ha

n him out. Oh, that mug! What does he wan

mong these young fellows, was to rival one's friends in beastly language. He was, nevertheless, recovering and beginning to answer, when Dubuche recognised him. The la

told you never to come in. Just w

nd no mistake.' The moment the vehicle appeared, a clamour arose. It was a quarter to nine o'clock, there was barely time to reach the School of Arts. However, a helter-skelter rush emptied the studio; each brought out his chases, amidst a general jostling; those who obstinately wished to give their designs a last finishing touch were knocked about and carried away with their comrades. In less than fi

e, who came at the fag-end, very vexed at not having had anoth

ng to do afterwar

which will take

escaped him. 'All right, then,' said he; 'in that cas

unless I'm kept to

, and constantly rebounding over the rough paving-stones, amid the jolting of the frames with which it was laden. Its escort galloped along madly, compelling the passers-by to draw back close to the houses in order to save themselves from being knocked down; while the shop-keepers, standing open-mouthed on their doorsteps, believed in a revolution. The whole neighbourhood s

'good-bye, then; I'

to-n

e des Beaux Arts. The court gates of the Art School stood wide

unicipal Offices, if only to shake hands with Sandoz. That would, at any rate, mean ten minutes well spent. But he positively gasped when he was told by an attendant that M. Sandoz had asked for a day off to attend a funeral. However, he knew the trick of old. His friend always found the same pretext whenever he wanted to do a good day's work at ho

spired him with interest. Some stonemasons, in their working blouses, bespattered with mortar, were there at table, and, like them, and with them, he ate his eight sous' 'ordinary'-some beef broth in a bowl, in which he soaked some bread, followed by a slice of boiled soup-beef, garnished with haricot beans, and served up on a plate damp with dish-water. However, it was still too good,

? Fagerolles was a nice fellow, gay, and by no means a fool, although he studied at the School of Arts. One could talk with him, ev

es chequered with signboards up to the very eaves, and pierced with small windows, whence came the hum of every kind of handiwork that can be carried on at home. In one of the narrowest parts of the street a small newspaper shop made him stop. It was betwixt a hairdresser's and a tripeseller's, and had an outdoor display of idiotic prints, romantic balderdash mixed with filthy caricatures fit for a barrack-room. In front of these 'pictures,' a lank hobbledehoy stood lost in reverie, wh

of the flora of the Paris streets, at the edge of that narrow pavement constantly struck by the omnibus wheels, always soddened by the gutter water, and opposite the print and newspaper shop, flanked by the barber's and tripeseller's. At first his father had made an ornamental draughtsman of him for personal use. But when the lad had developed high

oofing of glass and iron at the foot of the staircase, which was a wide one, with a wrought-iron railing, eaten with rust. As the painter passed the warehouse on the first floor, he glanced through a glass door and noticed M.

onsieur. Is Henr

nosegay vases and cruets and statuettes. He had in his hand a new model of a thermom

me in to lunch,'

did not come back; I beg pardon for having

od-

false principle which he sometimes felt like a bar across his skull. And when he had reached the quays again, he thought of going home to see whether his picture was really so very bad. But the mere idea made him tremble all over. His studio seemed a chamber of horrors, where he could no more continue to live, as if, indeed, he had left the corpse of s

ysis, occupied on the other side of the landing a single room, where she lived in morose and voluntary solitude. The street was a deserted one; the windows of t

oom, bending over his table,

rbing you?'

ough of it. I've been killing myself for the last hour over a senten

air, and the other, seeing him so

t's go out. A sharp walk will take a l

who, as a rule, came only for two hours in the morning and two hours in the evening. O

asked. 'It's to be a piece of skate

if you

y am I to la

ve, at any rate; we'll see afterwards. Dinner

hich way the wind blew, they ended by going up the street, reached the Place de l'Observatoire, and turned down the Boulevard du Montparnasse. This was their ordinary promenade; they reached the spot instinctively, being fond of the wide expanse of the outer bou

e's getting on with his big machine. I know that h

red Claude. 'Let's

ayer of whitening. At this point, the street, wide and deserted, has a quiet, provincial aspect, with a somewhat ecclesiastical touch. Large gateways stand wide open showing a succession of deep roomy yards; from a cowkeeper's establishment comes a tepid, pungent smell of

sight of the herbalist's shop delayed them for a moment. Between its windows, decked with enemas, bandages, and similar things, beneath the dried herbs hanging above the doorway, whence came a constant aromatic smell, a thin, dark woman stood taking stock of them, wh

e floor, several muddy buckets straggled here and there, while a heap of moistened plaster was lying in a corner. On the shelves, formerly occupied by fruit and vegetables, were scattered some casts from the antique, covered with a tracery of cinder-like dust which had gradually collected

houdeau, who sat before his f

t hundred francs per annum, for a period of four years. In the capital, however, he had found himself at sea, defenceless, failing in his competitions at the School of Arts, and spending his allowance to no purpose; so that, at the end of his term, he had been obliged for a livelihood to enter the employment of a dealer in church statues, at whose establishment, for ten hours a day, he scraped away at St. Josephs, St. Rochs, Mary Magdalens, and, in fact, all the sai

aid Claude, 't

ve a long pull at his pipe,

some flesh, and living flesh, too; not

athing, isn't i

leaves around her head. A

flew into a v

taging girl, eh? And quite modern, dash it all. I know she's nude, so let her be a peasant woman

fraid of Claude, and bowed to his ideal of strength a

intaging girl. And you'll see whether the

the tour of the huge block of clay, excla

conscription; and his misfortunes dated from the enthusiasm that a gentleman of the neighbourhood had shown for the walking-stick handles which he carved out of roots with his knife. From that moment, having become a rustic genius, an embryo great man for this local connoisseur, who happened to be a member of the museum committee, he had been helped by him, adulated and driven crazy with hopes; but he had successively failed in everything-his studies and competitions-thus missing the town's purse. Nevertheless, he had started for Paris, after worrying his father,

ued Sandoz, 'your stove

that he showed for wood carving. And he painted like a whitewasher, mixing his colours as a hodman mixes his mortar, and managing to make the clearest and brightest of them quite muddy. His triumph consisted, however, in combining exactness with aw

that painting, and though he was as a rule so harsh towards ba

trickster; you paint, at any rat

od-looking, fair fellow, with a big pink nose, and

an next door always stand on her do

t Mahoudeau, who seemed

rs,' declared Sandoz, shaki

Jory, when he had at length grasped the situation. 'Well, well, what

you have tumbled on your lady-love's finger-na

he had crowned everything by running away with a music-hall singer under the pretext of going to Paris to follow the literary profession. During the six months that they had been camping together in a shady hotel of the Quartier Latin, th

s-where he had fallen in with the whole band of Plassans-he had taken to art criticism, and, for a livelihood, he wrote articles for twenty francs apiece in a small, slashing paper called 'The Drummer.' Indeed, one of these articles, a study on a picture by Claude exhibited at Papa Malgras's, had just caused a tremendous scandal; for Jory had therein run down all the painters whom the public appreciated to ext

rly father has apologised. He is afraid I shall drag his name through th

ful to have any,' mutter

d with the skill he thus displayed was allied constant duplicity, a habit of incessantly lying, which he had contracted in the devout sphere of his family, where his an

you don't know t

e invectives continued, when some light taps on on

uisance,' said Mahoudeau, w

woman?' asked Jory. 'Let her c

ourhood. The truth was, that one sometimes espied black cassocks stealthily crossing that mysterious shop, where all the aromatic herbs set a perfume of incense. A kind of cloistral quietude pervaded the place; the devotees who came in spoke in low voices, as if in a confessional, slipped their purchases into their bags furtively, and went off with downcast eyes. Unfortunately, some very horrid rumours had got abroad-slander invented by the wine-shop keeper opposite, said pious folks. At any rate, since the

les, which she brought with her in her clothes and greasy, tumbled hair; the sickly sweetness of mallow, the sharp odour o

ise. 'Oh, dear me! you have company

ery vexed. 'Besides, I am going out;

tared at the emaciated Mathilde, an

me who poses for that figure?

ed his explanations. 'Oh! she only poses for the head and

rp, brazen-faced laughter, showing the while the gapin

out on some business now. Isn't it so, y

red that they were expected, and helped him to cover the figure of the vintag

pushed against her, while Chaine, who was no longer painting, glanced at her over his picture. So far, he had not ope

come home

our dinner and go

heaps of clay and the puddles of water, while the chalky light from

ets seemed to sound in advance of them; they seized upon Paris and quietly dropped it into their pockets. There was no longer the slightest doubt about their victory; they freely displayed their threadbare coats and old shoes, like destined conquerors of to-morrow who disdained bagatelles, and had only to take the trouble to become the masters of all the luxury surrounding them. And all this was attended by huge contempt for everything that was not art-

their disputations. When they reached the Esplanade, the wrangling became so violent that they stopped in the middle of that large open space. Beside himself, Claude called Jory a numskull; was it not better to destroy one's work than to launch a mediocre performance upon the world? Truckling to trade was really disgusting. Mahoudeau and Sandoz, on their side, shouted both together at the same time. Some passers-by, feeling uneasy, turned round to look, and at last gathered round these furious young fellows, who seemed bent on swallowing each other. But they went off vexed, thinking that some practical joke had been played upon them, when they suddenly saw the quartette, all good friends again, go into raptures

particular?' asked Sando

r, 'we are going with yo

out him, muttered: 'I don't

ont de la Concorde. In front of the Corps Legislatif the pai

eech the other day. How he

parcel of idiots whom no one would remember ten years after their death.' The young men had now begun to cross the bridge, and the

e at last, 'this isn

walks, the avenue of the Champs Elysees sloped upward as far as the eye could reach, topped by the colossal Arc de Triomphe, agape in front of the infinite. A double current, a twofold stream rolled along-horses showing like living eddies, vehicles like retreating waves, which the reflections of a panel or the sudden sparkle of the glass of a

t, kept saying: 'Ah! Paris! It's

ot glory herself that swept from the summit of that avenue over the

one day,' said Sandoz,

said Mahoudeau and Jory

d the Madeleine, and went up the Rue Tronchet. At last, as they reached t

ped from the sky; in fact, it did see

Thursday, eh? Then Fagerolles and Gagniere ar

-la-Chaise, followed by a roundabout return along the outer boulevards. They roamed the streets, the open spaces, the crossways; they rambled on for whole days, as long as their legs would carry them, as if intent on conquering one district after an

rhood. They met there regularly on Sunday nights; and on Thursday afternoons, at about five o'clock, those who were then at liberty had made it a habit to look in for a moment. That day, as the weather was fine and bright, the little t

erolles by himself,

a pale, thin, young man, whose pert girlish face was lighted up by a pair of winning, satirical grey eyes

ok for you at your father's; a

fellow plagues me! I hooked it this morning, after a row. He wants me to draw some t

and blame. His smile went from one to the other, while, by the aid of a few drops of beer spilt on the table, his long nimble fingers be

ked Mahoudeau; 'ha

een here for

irl was almost a child, one of those young Parisian hussies who are as lank as ever at eighteen. She suggested a frizzy poodle-with the shower of fair little locks that fell over her dainty little nose, and her large smiling mouth, set betwee

d Jory. 'Who is she staring a

nonsense. Don't imagine that I have been he

ng of the throng, and learning all about life from the everlasting tittle-tattle of the cooks, who retailed all the scandal of the neighbourhood while waiting for five sous' worth of Gruyere cheese to be served them. Her mother having died, her father himself had begun to lead rather a gay life, in such wise that the whole of the grocery stores-tea, coffee, dried vegetables,

siveness of a school girl, in order to join Fagerolles, beside whom she made herself quite at home, giving him a smacking kiss, and drinking out of his glass. And she smiled at the others in a very engaging manner, for she was parti

t why do those three look as if they were sulking.

replacing the cigarette between Jory's lips, she strode off with her arms raised, and making a very comical grimace; in such wise that when the gentleman reappeared, looking sedate and somewhat pale, he found her in her former seat, still looking

uld consent to pose for a sketch; while Mahoudeau already pictured her as a Paris gamin, a statuette that would be sure to sell. She soon went

ndeed well known; a legend was becoming current respecting them. They themselves were now talking on common-place subjects: about the heat, the difficulty of finding room in the omnibus to the Odeon, and the discovery of a wine-shop where real meat was obtainable. One of them wanted to start a dis

t last, 'are we going

re was a bore. Besides, he would tu

'There's a leg of mutton this eve

er as if he were the redoubtable chieftain of a horde of savages. Jory's famous article was producing its effect; the very public was becoming his accomplice, and of itself was soon to found that school of t

had gone down the Rue de Clichy, they went straight along the Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin, turned towards the Rue de Richelieu, crossed the Seine by the Pont des Arts, so as to fling their gibes at the Institute, and finally reached the Luxembourg by way of the Rue de Seine, where a poster, prin

der, gentle smile habitual to him on such occasions. And immediately afterwards a terrible hubbub, of laughter, argument, and mere shouting, arose in his little flat. Sandoz himself set the example, all the while assisting the charwoma

gniere,' was the

to Melun, where his well-to-do parents, who were both dead, had left him two houses; and he had learnt painting, unassisted, in the forest of Fontainebleau. His landscapes were at

e way?' he

come in!' s

lready laying an ex

, while she is about it,' said Claude

iety. Jory said that he had seen him in a carriage with an old l

om to be so late?' aske

wallow his first spoonful of s

ea of them! They clutch hold of you at the back of your head just as if somebody were breathing down your back. Yes, yes, it's

e turned pale, as if experienc

houdeau; 'you'll tell us

read swiftly disappeared. There was nothing refined about the repast, and the wine was mere common stuff, which they watered considerably from a feeling of delicacy, in order to lessen

er soul! Turn him

finding himself amidst such howling, thrust his fat,

fault of the omnibuses. I had to wait

he sha'n't have any of that mut

red, all in black, trousers and frock-coat alike, and cravated and booted in the stiff

that his fine ladies didn't ask him to stay to dinner, and so now he's c

h! what an idea! How ill-natured you are! And

beckoning to Dubuche, said to him: 'Lay your own place, bring a plat

about a mother having refused him her daughter because he was an architect. The end of the dinner thus became very boisterous; they all rattled on together. The only dessert, a piece of Brie cheese, met with enormous success. Not a scrap of it was left, and the bread almost ran sho

around him, hand in hand, and intoxicated with hope. As he had but two rooms, the bedroom did duty as a drawing-room, and became as much theirs as his. For lack of sufficient chairs, two or three had to seat themselves on the bed. And on those warm summer evenings the window remained wide open to let in the air. From it two black silhouettes were to be seen risin

ng, at about nine o'cloc

I have done

the kettle on the fire, haven't

y returned a quarter of an hour afterwards. He had no doubt been to

en to a high pitch again. Fa

e two arms don't correspond"; whereupon I reply: "Look for yourself, monsieur-the model's are like that." It was lit

e; and although he continued to paint with purely tricky skill, he no longer talked of anything but substantial, thickly-painted work, of bits of nature thrown on to canvas, palpitat

is sense of rectitude being off

oes away-Oh, I know you are all against me, because I defend the School. But, you see, my idea is th

and Claude had need of all his

arn it under the ferule of professors who want to cram their ow

he had been sitting, and with his eyes raised

changing beauty, without any idiotic idea of ennobling it by mutilation. To understand that all so-called ugliness is nothin

m on once more; he was again seized by his passion for living flesh. Th

ute they are even more intolerant than we are. The hanging committee of the Sa

r wrath. They demanded reforms; every one had a solution of the problem ready-from universal suffrage, applied to the election

r in mind that all th

ds apply to the old

rol, at the time of t

re drew Mahoudeau to the open window, where, in a low v

it's first of all a landscape, dwindling away in the distance; a bit of melancholy road, with the shadow of a tree that one ca

exclaimed, 'I say, Gagniere, what are y

but continued talking,

-the infinite. And Wagner, too, w

from Fagerolles

scape, perhaps; a little bit of the Seine. It is so difficult

dscape painters, those masters who were the first to conquer nature, he worried about correctness of tone, pondering and pondering over the precise value of tints, till theoretical scruples ended

feel delighted at the prospect of

e painters. And, besides, you know very well what you are about; you have something at your

vein of talent, and despised gracefulness, though it ever invincibly sprung from his big, coarse fingers-the fingers

fed the Salon, calling it 'a foul bazaar, where all the bad painting made even the good turn musty.' In his inm

en, he declared: 'Well, your hanging committee quite disgusts me! I say, shall I demolish it? I'll begin bombardi

into a phalanx to conquer the world, each contributing his individual effort; this one helping that one forward, and the whole band reaching fame at once in one row. Claude, as the acknowledged chief, was already sounding the victory, distributing laurels with such lyrical abundance that he overlooked himself. Fagerolles himself, gibing Parisian though he might be, believed in the necessity of forming an army; while even Jory, although he had a coarser appetite, with a deal of the provincial still about him, displayed much useful comradeship, catching various artistic phrases as they fell from his companions' lips, and already preparing in his mind the art

nt to come to an understanding among fellows who have something in t

. Amidst the sudden silence of the others, he inquir

ready coming back again, throwing the door wide open as he said-'Ah! it's ver

gly bestowed. Bongrand was then forty-five years old, stout, and with a very expressive face and long grey hair. He had recently become a member of the Institute, and wore the rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honou

make the tea,'

Bongrand himself was holding forth in a stentorian voice. The grandson of a farmer of the Beauce region, the son of a man risen to the middle classes, with peasant blood in

o it!' said he, with sweeping gestures. 'Am I an executioner to ki

ervice by defending our pictures be

y make matters worse for yo

testations; Fagerolles ob

of "The Village Wedd

ing angry; he had ris

ting sick of that picture. It is becoming a perfect nightmar

e. The picture had brought about an evolution in art, for it had inaugurated a new formula. Coming after Delacroix, and parallel with Courbet, it was a piece of romanticism tempered by logic, w

Claude, 'than the two first groups, the fidd

au; the one who is turning round and beckoning! I ha

dded Gagniere, 'and the pretty bit of the

f inward suffering; and when Fagerolles asked him what he was

then, he feels so plucky when it's a question of getting up. But when once he is a-top, the deuce take it! the worries begin. A real torture, fisticuffs, efforts which must be constantly renewed,

ke Bongrand, with the name of master-was that not the height of bliss? He, with his arms resting on the back of his chai

ccentric gentleman living on a small income, who never indulged in any other extravagance than that of buying pictures. The other artists laughed and asked for the gentleman's address. Then they fell foul of the picture dealers, dirty black-guards, who preyed on artists and starved them. It was really a pity that connoisseurs mistrusted painters to such a degree as to insist upon a middleman under the impression that they would thus make a better bargain. This question of bread and butter excited them yet more, though Claude showed magnificent contempt for it all. The artist was robbed, no doubt, but what did that matter, if he had painted a masterpiec

at the prospect of attack. He forgot the hundred paintings which had brought him his glory, he was thinking of the work which he had left

asleep, one now only heard the miawing of an amorous tabby. They all talked at random, intoxicated by their own words, hoarse with shouting, their

noise, my moth

the stairs died away at last, and

pictured himself re-entering his studio as one returns into the presence of a woman one adores, his heart throbbing violently, regretting even this one day's absence, which seemed to him endless desertion. And he would go straight to his canvas, and realise his dream in one sitting. However, at every dozen steps or so, amidst the flickering light of the gaslamps, Bongrand caught him by a button of his coat, to repeat to him that, after all,