Max

ightly appeal to her audience of pleasure-seekers. Like a dancer in her dressing-room, she but awaited the signal to step forth into

ept like the fumes of wine; the insidious sense of nocturnal energy swept the brain, as the traffic

hand-in-hand in so strange a fellowship. A new excitement, unlike the excitement of the morning, was at work within him; his blood danced, his brain answered to every fleeting picture. He was in that subtlest of all moods when the mind swings out upon the human tide, comprehending its every ripple with a deep intuition that seems like a re

wd, a hand was laid upon his shoulder and a f

we girded for

s, the easy friendliness that seemed to accept all things as they came. His instant answer

ry characteristic, but there ar

us, but he ignored the anomaly. His boats were burned; the great ice-bound sea protected him from the past; he was here in Paris, in the first moments of a fascinating present, under the guardianship of this comrade whose face he had never seen until yesterday, whose very

romise; and as they passed on, ever mounting toward Montmartre, his brain quickened to new joy, new curiosity in every flaunting advertisement, every cobble-stone in the long steep way of the Boulevard Barbés, the rue de

crowded curio shop-the curio shop that in time to come was destined to become so fam

onely pavement; to the right, the Escalier de Sainte-Marie, picturesque as its name, wound its precipitous way apparently to the very stars, while at their feet, creeping upward to the threshold of the church, was the plantation of rocks, trees, and holly bushes that in the mysterious darkness seemed aquiver with

gain pressed his

steps?" He point

to the rue Müller, and, if you desire it,

mpanion with him, and side by side they began the mounting of the stone steps-those steps, fl

igher and higher they climbed, sensible with each step of a greater isolation, of a rarer, clearer air. Above them, in one of the higher houses in the rue Müller, some one was playing a

though it called to him in some curious way, he suddenl

the wooden paling that fronts the Sacré-Coeur, his elbows resting upon it, his

hind him. "I thought you

nspiration, the curious illumin

st wonderful! It is here that I shall

moredly at the finality, the

find a dwelling in the s

do not consider difficulties, monsieur. It i

ay seek your inspiration in Montmartre, but

I? What co

do. You can live here, certainly, if you want to-there is no law to forbid it-and

will know her from here-study her, love her from here. This place is one of miracle. One might know life here, living in the skies. Listen! That musician know

red Blake's Celtic blood, ba

scraps from Louise-C

ever hear

ontmartre. Listen, now!" His voice quickened. "He's playing a bit ou

le Plaisi

Amantes-que le

t les coeurs qu'o

le Rire, ici

t le droit de t

ocureur de la

erviteur-ou

as the music deepened with the passion of the pl

ic flowed forth again, but curiously al

ened. "Ah, but list

ittle house her lover has provided for her; it is twilight, and she is in the garden, looking down upon all this"-he waved his hand comprehensively-"it is her moment-the triumph and

says?" Max whi

of the song in the same hushed way as h

e suis donnée, toute fl

de féerie, l'ame encore gr

might be extinguished-the music ce

said; "but the words of that so

that 'l'ame encore grisé

emotional moment, he gave a litt

added, "never a little model in all

ignored

ever in love," h

old! You look like a child from school, and you talk like some quaint l

r; but about this love, I have thought a little, and have gained to a conclusion. It

d that man sh

ulders. "We come into the world

d phil

s were based upon it we would have

enthusiasm caug

ould a poor devil of a wanderer like myself be, if he hadn't the dream in

hed him

have nev

f love ever since I was seventeen. But, bless your

u think the right woman will be co

ing over the parapet, his shou

I know, the world was made as it is, and neither you nor I can change it; no, nor ten thousand cleverer than we! It's all a mystery, and the queerest

en who can do without either

bnormalities

hat there are certain people to whom these things you speak of are poo

h twisted into a

who is sufficie

s pocket in the café that morning-Max stepped back, his

r! You s

een surprise; he turned sharply

, to ignore the softer side of life and set yourself

ry well, my frie

defy the world, the flesh, and the devil

w l

ths-not a

tistic exaltation passed; again he was the boy-the adventurer, brimming with spirits, thirsting to break a

ghing face, the bright

om the bogs of Clare! Come here, and take my arm a

t, bantering tone that had in it a touch of something bordering upon affection, and with

all the arrogance had melted from his voice, his tone

of taking you to a little Montmartre cabaret, where many a poet wrote his first verse

yes. "Oh, my friend, that is the place! That is the

oulevard de Clichy and th