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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:41:23 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:41:23 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/13114-0.txt b/13114-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f095023 --- /dev/null +++ b/13114-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3335 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13114 *** + +THE COLLECTORS + +Being Cases mostly under the Ninth and Tenth Commandments + +by + +FRANK JEWETT MATHER, Junr. + +1912 + + + + + + + +Comprising a _Ballade_, wherein the Wrongfulness of Art Collecting is +conceded, and as well Certain Stories: _Campbell Corot_, which recounts +the career of an able and candid Picture Forger. _The del Puente +Giorgione_, which tells of an artful Great Lady and an Artless Expert. +_The Lombard Runes_, a mere interlude, but revealing a certain duplicity +in Professional Seekers for Truth. _Their Cross_, so called from an +inanimate Object of Price which wrought Woe to a well meaning New York +Couple. _The Missing St Michael_, a tale of Italianate Americans which is +full of Vanities and, though alluring to the Sophisticated, quite unfit +for the Simple Reader. _The Lustred Pots_, again a mere interlude, but of +a grim sort, as it grazes the Sixth Commandment and _The Balaklava +Coronal_, which, notwithstanding its exotic title, is mostly of our own +People, showing the Triumph of a resourceful Dealer over two Critics and +a Captain of Industry. To which seven stories are added some _Reflections +upon Art Collecting_, setting forth Excuses and Palliations for a +Practice usually regarded as Pernicious. + + + + +FOREWORD + + +Of the seven stories of art collecting that make up this book "Campbell +Corot" and the "Missing St. Michael" first appeared under the pseudonym +of Francis Cotton, in "Scribner's Magazine," and are now reprinted by its +courteous permission. Similar acknowledgment is due the "Nation" for +allowing the sketch on art collecting to be republished. Many readers +will note the similarity between the story "The del Puente Giorgione" and +Paul Bourget's brilliant novelette, "La Dame qui a perdu son Peintre." My +story was written in the winter of 1907, and it was not until the summer +of 1911 that M. Bourget's delightful tale came under my eye. Clearly the +same incident has served us both as raw material, and the noteworthy +differences between the two versions should sufficiently advise the +reader how little either is to be taken as a literal record of facts or +estimate of personalities. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +A Ballade of Art Collectors + +Campbell Corot + +The del Puente Giorgione + +The Lombard Runes + +Their Cross + +The Missing St. Michael + +The Lustred Pots + +The Balaklava Coronal + +On Art Collecting + + + + +A BALLADE OF ART COLLECTORS + + +Oh Lord! We are the covetous. + Our neighbours' goods afflict us sore. +From Frisco to the Bosphorus + All sightly stuff, the less the more, +We want it in our hoard and store. + Nor sacrilege doth us appal-- +Egyptian vault--fane at Cawnpore-- + Collector folk are sinners all. + +Our envoys plot _in partibus_. + They've small regard for chancel door, +Or Buddhist bolts contiguous + To lustrous jade or gold galore +Adorning idol squat or tall-- + These be strange gods that we adore-- +Collector folk are sinners all. + +Of Romulus Augustulus + The signet ring I proudly wore. +Some rummaging _in ossibus_ + I most repentantly deplore. +My taste has changed; I now explore + The sepulchres of Senegal +And seek the pots of Singapore-- + Collector folk are sinners all. + +Lord! Crave my neighbour's wife! What for? + I much prefer his crystal ball +From far Cathay. Then, Lord, ignore + Collector folk who're sinners all. + + + + +CAMPBELL COROT + + +The Academy reception was approaching a perspiring and vociferous close +when the Antiquary whispered an invitation to the Painter, the Patron, +and the Critic. A Scotch woodcock at "Dick's" weighs heavily, even +against the more solid pleasures of the mind, so terminating four +conferences on as many tendencies in modern art, and abandoning four +hungry souls, four hungry bodies bore down an avenue toward "Dick's" +smoky realm, where they found a quiet corner apart from the crowd. It is +a place where one may talk freely or even foolishly--one of those rare +oases in which an artist, for example, may venture to read a lesson to an +avowed patron of art. All the way down the Patron had bored us with his +new Corot, which he described at tedious length. Now the Antiquary barely +tolerated anything this side of the eighteenth century, the Painter was +of Courbet's sturdy following, the Critic had been writing for a season +that the only hope in art for the rich was to emancipate themselves from +the exclusive idolatry of Barbizon. Accordingly the Patron's rhapsodies +fell on impatient ears, and when he continued his importunities over the +Scotch woodcock and ale, the Painter was impelled to express the sense of +the meeting. + +"Speaking of Corot," he began genially, "there are certain +misapprehensions about him which I am fortunately able to clear up. +People imagine, for instance, that he haunted the woods about Ville +d'Avray. Not at all. He frequented the gin-mills in Cedar Street. We are +told he wore a peasant's blouse and sabots; on the contrary, he sported a +frock-coat and congress gaiters. His long clay pipe has passed into +legend, whereas he actually smoked a tilted Pittsburg stogy. We speak of +him by the operatic name of Camille; he was prosaically called Campbell. +You think he worked out of doors at rosy dawn; he painted habitually in +an air-tight attic by lamplight." + +As the Painter paused for the sensation to sink in, the Antiquary +murmured soothingly, "Get it off your mind quickly, Old Man," the Critic +remarked that the Campbells were surely coming, and the Patron asked with +nettled dignity how the Painter knew. + +"Know?" he resumed, having had the necessary fillip. "Because I knew him, +smelled his stogy, and drank with him in Cedar Street. It was some time +in the early '70s, when a passion for Corot's opalescences (with the +Critic's permission) was the latest and most knowing fad. As a realist I +half mistrusted the fascination, but I felt it with the rest, and +whenever any of the besotted dealers of that rude age got in an 'Early +Morning' or a 'Dance of Nymphs,' I was there among the first. For another +reason, my friend Rosenheim, then in his modest beginnings as a +marchand-amateur, was likely to appear at such private views. With his +infallible tact for future salability, he was already unloading the +Institute, and laying in Barbizon. Find what he's buying now, and I'll +tell you the next fad." + +The Critic nodded sagaciously, knowing that Rosenheim, who now poses as +collecting only for his pleasure, has already begun to affect the drastic +productions of certain clever young Spanish realists. + +"Rosenheim," the Painter pursued, "really loved his Corot quite apart +from prospective values. I fancy the pink silkiness of the manner always +appeals to Jews, recalling their most authentic taste, the +eighteenth-century Frenchman. Anyhow, Rosenheim took his new love +seriously, followed up the smallest examples religiously, learned to know +the forgeries that were already afloat--in short, was the best informed +Corotist in the city. It was appropriate, then, that my first relations +with the poet-painter should have the sanction of Rosenheim's presence." + +Lingering upon the reminiscence, the Painter sopped up the last bit of +anchovy paste, drained his toby, and pushed it away. The rest of us +settled back comfortably for a long session, as he persisted. "Rosenheim +wrote me one day that he had got wind of a Corot in a Cedar Street +auction room. It might be, so his news went, the pendant to the one he +had recently bought at the Bolton sale. He suggested we should go down +together and see. So we joggled down Broadway in the 'bus, on what looked +rather like a wild-goose chase. But it paid to keep the run of Cedar +Street in those days; one might find anything. The gilded black walnut +was pushing the old mahogany out of good houses; Wyant and Homer Martin +were occasionally raising the wind by ventures in omnibus sales; then +there were old masters which one cannot mention because nobody would +believe. But that particular morning the Corot had no real competitor; +its radiance fairly filled the entire junk-room. Rosenheim was in +raptures. As luck would have it, it was indeed the companion-piece to +his, and his it should be at all costs. In Cedar Street, he reasonably +felt, one might even hope to get it cheap. Then began our _duo_ on the +theme of atmosphere, vibrancy, etc.--brand new phrases, mind you, in +those innocent days. As Rosenheim for a moment carried the burden alone, +I stepped up to the canvas and saw, with a shock, that the paint was +about two days old. Under what conditions I wondered--for did I not know +the ways of paint--could a real Corot have come over so fresh? I more +than scented trickery. A sketch overpainted---or it seemed above the +quality of a sheer forgery--or was the case worse than that? Meanwhile +not a shade of doubt was in Rosenheim's mind. As I canvassed the +possibilities his _sotto-voce_ ecstasies continued, to the vast +amusement, as I perceived, of a sardonic stranger who hovered unsteadily +in the background. This ill-omened person was clad in a statesmanlike +black frock-coat with trousers of similar funereal shade. A white lawn +tie, much soiled, and congress gaiters, much frayed, were appropriate +details of a costume inevitably topped off with an army slouch hat that +had long lacked the brush. He was immensely long and sallow, wore a +drooping moustache vaguely blonde, between the unkempt curtains of which +a thin cheroot pointed heavenward. As he walked nervously up and down, +with a suspiciously stilted gait, he observed Rosenheim with evident +scorn and the picture with a strange pride. He was not merely odd, but +also offensive, for as Rosenheim whispered _'Comme c'est beau_!' there +was an unmistakable snort; when he continued, _'Mais c'est exquis_!' the +snort broadened into a mighty chuckle; while as he concluded 'Most +luminous!' the chuckle became articulate, in an 'Oh, shucks!' that could +not be ignored. + +"'You seem to be interested, sir,' Rosenheim remarked. 'You bet!' was the +terse response. 'May I inquire the cause of your concern?' Rosenheim +continued placidly. With a most exasperating air of willingness to +please, the stranger rejoined: 'Why, I jest took a simple pleasure, sir, +in seeing an amachoor like you talking French about a little thing I +painted here in Cedar Street.' For a moment Rosenheim was too indignant +to speak, then he burst out with: 'It's an infernal lie; you could no +more paint that picture than you could fly.' 'I did paint it, jest the +same,' pursued the stranger imperturbably, as Rosenheim, to make an end +of the insufferable wag, snapped out sarcastically, 'Perhaps you painted +its mate, then, the Bolton Corot.' 'The one that sold for three thousand +dollars last week? Of course I painted it; it's the best nymph scene I +ever done. Don't get mad, mister; I paint most of the Corots. I'm glad +you like 'em.' + +"For a moment I feared that little Rosenheim would smite the lank annoyer +dead in his tracks. 'For heaven's sake be careful!' I cried. 'The man is +drunk or crazy or he may even be right; the paint on this picture isn't +two days old.' 'Correct,' declared the stranger. 'I finished it day +before yesterday for this sale.' Then a marked change came over +Rosenheim's manner. He grew positively deferential. It delighted him to +meet an artist of talent; they must know each other better. Cards were +exchanged, and Rosenheim read with amazement the grimy inscription +'_Campbell Corot, Landscape Artist_.' 'Yes, that's my painting name,' +Campbell Corot said modestly; 'and my pictures are almost equally as good +as his'n, but not quite. They do for ordinary household purposes. I +really hate to see one get into a big sale like the Bolton; it don't seem +honest, but I can't help it; nobody'd believe me if I told.' Rosenheim's +demeanour was courtly to a fault as he pleaded an engagement and bade us +farewell. Already apparently he divined a certain importance in so +remarkable a gift of mimicry. I stayed behind, resolved on making the +nearer acquaintance of Campbell Corot." + + * * * * * + +"Rosenheim clearly understands the art of business," interrupted the +Antiquary. "And the business of art," added the Critic. "Could your +seedy friend have painted my Corot?" said the Patron in real distress. +"Why not?" continued the Painter remorselessly. "Only hear me out, and +you may judge for yourself. Anyhow, let's drop your Corot; we were +speaking of mine." + +"To make Campbell Corot's acquaintance proved more difficult than I had +expected. He confided to me immediately that he had been a durn fool to +give himself away to my friend, but talk was cheap, and people never +believed him, anyway. Then gloom descended, and my professions of +confidence received only the most surly responses. He unbent again for a +moment with, 'Painter feller, you knowed the pesky ways of paint, didn't +yer?' but when I followed up this promising lead and claimed him as an +associate, he repulsed me with, 'Stuck up, ain't yer? Parley French like +your friend? S'pose you've showed in the Saloon at Paris.' Giving it up, +I replied simply: 'I have; I'm a landscape painter, too, but I'd like to +say before I go that I should be glad to be able to paint a picture like +that.' Looking me in the eye and seeing I meant it, 'Shake!' he replied +cordially. As we shook, his breath met me fair: it was such a breath as +was not uncommon in old-time Cedar Street. Gentlemen who affect this +aroma are, I have noticed, seldom indifferent to one sort of invitation, +so I ventured hardily: 'You know Nickerson's Glengyle, sir; perhaps you +will do me the favour to drink a glass with me while we chat.' Here I +could tell you a lot about Nickerson's." "Don't," begged the Critic, who +is abstemious. "I will only say, then, that Nickerson's, once an +all-night refuge, closes now at three--desecration has made it the yellow +marble office of a teetotaler in the banking line--and the Glengyle, that +blessed essence of the barley, heather, peat, and mist of Old Scotland, +has been taken over by an exporting company, limited. Sometimes I think I +detect a little of it in the poisons that the grocers of Glasgow and +Edinburgh send over here, or perhaps I only dream of the old taste. Then +it was itself, and by the second glass Campbell Corot was quite ready to +soliloquise. You shall have his story about as he told it, but abridged a +little in view of your tender ages and the hour. + + * * * * * + +"John Campbell had grown up contentedly on the old farm under Mount +Everett until one summer when a landscape painter took board with the +family. At first the lad despised the gentle art as unmanly, but as he +watched the mysterious processes he longed to try his hand. The +good-natured Düsseldorfian willingly lent brushes and bits of millboard +upon which John proceeded to make the most lurid confections. The forms +of things were, of course, an obstacle to him, as they are to everybody. +'I never could drore,' he told me, 'and I never wanted to drore like that +painter chap. Why he'd fill a big canvas with little trees and rocks and +ponds till it all seemed no bigger than a Noah's ark show. I used to ask +him, "Why don't you wait till evening when you can't see so much to +drore?"' To such criticism the painter naturally paid no attention, while +John devoted himself to sunsets and the tube of crimson lake. From +babyhood he had loved the purple hour, and his results, while without +form and void, were apparently not wholly unpleasing, for his master paid +him the compliment of using one or two such sketches as backgrounds, +adding merely the requisite hills, houses, fences, and cows. These +collaborations were mentioned not unworthily beside the sunsets of +Kensett and Cropsey next winter at the Academy. From that summer John was +for better or worse a painter. + +"His first local success was, curiously enough, an historical +composition, in which the village hose company, almost swallowed up by +the smoke, held in check a conflagration of Vesuvian magnitude. The few +visible figures and Smith's turning-mill, which had heroically been saved +in part from the flames, were jotted in from photographs. Happily this +work, for which the Alert Hose Company subscribed no less than +twenty-five dollars, providing also a fifty-dollar frame, fell under the +appreciative eye of the insurance adjuster who visited the very ruins +depicted. Recognising immediately an uncommonly available form of +artistic talent, this gentleman procured John a commission as painter in +ordinary to the Vulcan, with orders to come at once to town at excellent +wages. By his twentieth year, then, John was established in an attic +chamber near the North River with a public that, barring change in the +advertising policy of the Vulcan, must inevitably become national. For +the lithographers he designed all manner of holocausts; at times he made +tours through the counties and fixed the incandescent mouth of Vulcan's +forge, the figures within being merely indicated, on the face of a +hundred ledges. That was a shame, he freely admitted to me; the rocks +looked better without. In fact, John Campbell's first manner soon came to +be a humiliation and an intolerable bondage. He felt the insincerity of +it deeply. 'You see, it's this way,' he explained to me, 'you don't see +the shapes by firelight or at sunset, but you have seen them all day and +you know they're there. Nobody that don't have those shapes in his brush +can make you feel them in a picture. Everybody puts too little droring +into sunsets. Nobody paints good ones, not even Inness [we must remember +it was in the early '70s], except a Frenchman called Roosoo. He takes 'em +very late, which is best, and he can drore some too.'" + +"A very decent critic, your alcoholic friend," the Critic remarked. "He +was full of good ideas, as you shall see," the story-teller replied. "I +quite agree with you, if the bad whisky could have been kept away from +him he might have shone in your profession. Anyhow, he had the makings of +an honest man in him, and when the Vulcan enlarged its cliff-painting +programme, he cut loose bravely. Then followed ten lean years of odd +jobs, with landscape painting as a recreation, and the occasional sale of +a canvas on a street corner as a great event. When his need was greatest +he consented to earn good wages composing symbolical door designs for the +Meteor Coach Company, but that again he could not endure for long. Later +in the intervals of colouring photographs, illuminating window-shades, or +whatever came to hand, he worked out the theory which finally led him to +the feet of Corot. It was, in short, that the proper subject for an +artist deficient in linear design is sunrise. + +"He explained the matter to me with zest. 'By morning you've half +forgotten the look of things. All night you've seen only dreams that +don't have any true form, and when the first light comes, nothing shows +solid for what it is. The mist uncovers a little here and there, and you +wonder what's beneath. It's all guesswork and nothing sure. Take any +morning early when I look out of my attic window to the North River. +There's nothing but a heap of fog, grey or pink, as there's more or less +sun behind. It gets a little thick over toward Jersey, and that may be +the shore, or again it mayn't. Then a solid bit of vi'let shows high up, +and I guess it's Castle Stevens, but perhaps it ain't. Then a pale-yellow +streak shoots across the river farther up and I take it to be the +Palisades, but again it may be jest a ray of sunshine. You see there +really ain't no earth; it's all air and light. That's what a man that +can't drore ought to paint; that's what my namesake, Cameel Corot, did +paint better than any one that ever lived.' + +"At this point of his confession John Campbell glared savagely at me for +assent, and set down a sadly frayed and noxious stogy on Nickerson's +black walnut. I hastened to agree, though much of the doctrine was heresy +to a realist, only objecting: 'But one really has to draw a scene such as +you describe just like any other. In fact, the drawing of atmosphere is +the most difficult branch of our art. Many very good painters, like my +master, Courbet, have given it up.' 'Corbet!' he replied contemptuously; +'he didn't give it up; he never even seen it. But don't I know it's hard, +sir? For years I tried to paint it, and I never got nothing but the fog; +when I put in more I lost that. They're pretty, those sketches--like +watered silk or the scum in the docks with the sun on it; but, Lord, +there ain't nothing into 'em, and that's the truth. At last, after +fumbling around for years, I happened to walk into Vogler's gallery one +day and saw my first Corot. Ther' it was--all I had been trying for. It +was the kind of droring I knew ought to be, where a man sets down more +what he feels than what he knows. I knew I was beginning too late, but I +loved that way of working. I saw all the Corots I could, and began to +paint as much as I could his way. I got almost to have his eye, but of +course I never got his hand. Nobody could, I guess, not even an educated +artist like you, or they'd all a don' it.' + + * * * * * + +"After this awakening John Campbell began the artist's life afresh with +high hopes. His first picture in the sweet new style was honestly called +'Sunrise in Berkshire,' though he had interwoven with his own +reminiscences of the farm several motives from various compositions of +his great exemplar. He signed the canvas Campbell Corot, in the familiar +capital letters, because he didn't want to take all the credit; because +he desired to mark emphatically the change in his manner, and because it +struck him as a good painting name justified by the resemblance between +his surname and the master's Christian name. It was a heartfelt homage in +intention. If the disciple had been familiar with Renaissance usages, he +would undoubtedly have signed himself John of Camille. + +"'Sunrise in Berkshire' fetched sixty dollars in a downtown auction room, +the highest price John had ever received; but this was only the beginning +of a bewildering rise in values. When John next saw the picture, Campbell +had been deftly removed, and the landscape, being favourably noticed in +the press, brought seven hundred dollars in an uptown salesroom. John +happened on it again in Beilstein's gallery, where the price had risen to +thirteen hundred dollars--a tidy sum for a small Corot in those early +days. At that figure it fell to a noted collector whose walls it still +adorns. Here Campbell Corot's New England conscience asserted itself. He +insisted on seeing Beilstein in person and told him the facts. Beilstein +treated the visitor as an impostor and showed him the door, taking his +address, however, and scornfully bidding him make good his story by +painting a similar picture, unsigned. For this, if it was worth anything, +the dealer promised he should be liberally paid. Naturally Campbell +Corot's professional dander was up, and he produced in a week a Corotish +'Dance of Nymphs,' if anything, more specious than the last. For this +Beilstein gave him twenty-five dollars, and within a month you might have +seen it under the skylight of a country museum, where it is still +reverently explained to successive generations of school-children. + +"If Campbell Corot had been a stronger character, he might have made +some stand against the fraudulent success his second manner was +achieving. But, unhappily, in those experimental years he had acquired +an experimental knowledge of the whisky of Cedar Street. His irregular +and spend-thrift ways had put him out of all lines of employment. +Besides, he was consumed by an artist's desire to create a kind of +picture that he could not hope to sell as his own. Nor did the voice of +the tempter, Beilstein, fail to make itself heard. He offered an +unfailing market for the little canvases at twenty-five and fifty +dollars, according to size. There was a patron to supply unlimited +colours and stretchers, a pocket that never refused to advance a small +bill when thirst or lesser need found Campbell Corot penniless. Almost +inevitably he passed from occasional to habitual forgery, consoling +himself with the thought that he never signed the pictures and, before +the law at least, was blameless. But signed they all were somewhere +between their furtive entrance at Beilstein's basement and their +appearance on his walls or in the auction rooms. Of course it wasn't the +blackguard Beilstein who forged the five magic letters; he would never +take the risk, 'Blast his dirty soul!' cried Campbell Corot aloud, as he +seethed with the memory of his shame. He rose as if for summary +vengeance, to the amazement of the quiet topers in the room. For some +time his utterance had been getting both excited and thick, and now I +saw with a certain chagrin that the Glengyle had done its work only too +well. It was a question not of hearing his story out, but of getting him +home before worse befell. By mingled threats and blandishments I got him +away from Nickerson's, and after an adventurous passage down Cedar +Street, I deposited him before his attic door, in a doubtful frame of +mind, being alternately possessed by the desire to send Beilstein to +hell and to pray for the eternal welfare of the only genuine Corot." + +"You certainly make queer acquaintances," ejaculated the Patron uneasily. + +"Hurry up and tell us the rest; it's growing late," insisted the +Antiquary, as he beckoned for the bill. + +"I saw Campbell Corot only once more, but occasionally I saw his work, +and it told a sad tale of deterioration. The sunrises and nymphals no +longer deceived anybody, having fallen nearly to the average level of +auction-room impressionism. I was not surprised, then, when running into +him near Nickerson's one day I felt that drink and poverty were speeding +their work. He tried to pass me unrecognised, but I stopped him, and +once more the invitation to a nip proved irresistible. My curiosity was +keen to learn his attitude toward his own work and that of his master, +and I attempted to draw him out with a crass compliment. He denied me +gently. 'The best things I do, or rather did, young feller, are jest a +little poorer than his worst. Between ourselves, he painted some pretty +bum things. Some I suppose he did, like me, by lamplight. Some he +sketched with one hand while he was lighting that there long pipe with +the other. Sometimes, I guess, he was in a hurry for the money. Now, +when I'm painting my level best, like I used to could, mine are about +like that. But people don't know the difference about him or about me; +and mine, as I told your Jew friend, are plenty good enough for +every-day purposes. Used to be, anyway. Nobody can paint like his best. +Think of it, young feller, you and me is painters and know what it +means--jest a little dirty paint on white canvas, and you see the +creeping of the sunrise over the land, the breathing of the mist from +the fields, and the twinkling of the dew in the young leaves. Nobody but +him could paint that, and I guess he never knowed how he done it; he +jest felt it in his brush, it seems to me.' + +"After this outburst little more was to be got from him. In a word, he +had gone to pieces and knew it. Beilstein had cast him off; the works in +the third manner hung heavy in the auction places. Leaning over the +table, he asked me, 'Who was the gent that said, "My God, what a genius I +had when I done that!"?' I told him that the phrase was given to many, +but that I believed Swift was the gent. 'Jest so,' Campbell Corot +responded; 'that's the way I felt the last time I saw Beilstein. He'd +been sending back my things and, for a joke, I suppose, he wrote me to +come up and see a real Corot, and take the measure of the job I was +tackling. So up to the avenue I went, and Beilstein first gave me my +dressing down and then asked me into the red-plush private room where he +takes the big oil and wheat men when they want a little art. There on the +easel was a picture. He drew the cloth away and said: "Now, Campbell, +that's what we want in our business." As sure as you're born, sir, it was +a "Dance of Nymphs" that I done out of photographs eight years ago. But I +can't paint like that no more. I know the way your friend Swift felt; +only I guess my case is worse than his.' + +"The mention of photographs gave me a clue to Campbell Corot's artistic +methods. It appeared that Beilstein had kept him in the best +reproductions of the master. But on this point the disciple was reticent, +evading my questions by a motion to go. 'I'm not for long probably,' he +said, as he refused a second glass. 'You've been patient while I've +talked--I can't to most--and I don't want you to remember me drunk. Take +good care of yourself, and, generally speaking, don't start your whisky +till your day's painting is done.' I stood for some minutes on the corner +of Broadway as his gaunt form merged into the glow that fell full into +Cedar Street from the setting sun. I wondered if the hour recalled the +old days on the farm and the formation of his first manner. + +"However that may be, his premonition was right enough. The next winter I +read one morning that the body of Campbell Corot had been taken from the +river at the foot of Cedar Street. It was known that his habits were +intemperate, and it was probable that returning from a saloon he had +walked past his door and off the dock. His cards declared him to be a +landscape painter, but he was unknown in the artistic circles of the +city. I wrote to the authorities that he was indeed a landscape painter +and that the fact should be recorded on his slab in Potter's Field. I was +poor and that was the only service I could do to his memory." + +The Painter ceased. We all rose to go and were parting at the doorway +with sundry hems and haws when the Patron piped up anxiously, "Do you +suppose he painted my Corot?" "I don't know and I don't care," said the +Painter shortly. "Damn it, man, can't you see it's a human not a +picture-dealing proposition?" sputtered the Antiquary. "That's right," +echoed the Critic, as the three locked arms for the stroll downtown, +leaving the bewildered Patron to find his way alone to the Park East. + + + + +THE DEL PUENTE GIORGIONE + + +The train swung down a tawny New England river towards Prestonville as I +reviewed the stages of a great curiosity. At last I was to see the Del +Puente Giorgione. Long before, when the old pictures first began to speak +to me, I had learned that the critic Mantovani, the master of us all, +owned an early Giorgione, unfinished but of marvellous beauty. At his +death, strangely enough, it was not found among his pictures, which were +bequeathed as every one knows to the San Marcello Museum. The next word I +had of it was when Anitchkoff, Mantovani's disciple and successor, +reported it in the Del Puente Castle in the Basque mountains. He added a +word on its importance though avowedly knowing it only from a photograph. +It appeared that Mantovani in his last days had given the portrait to his +old friend the Carlist Marquesa del Puente, in whose cause--picturesque +but irrelevant detail--he had once drawn sword. Anitchkoff's full +enthusiasm was handsomely recorded after he had made the pilgrimage to +the Marquesa's crag. One may still read in that worthy but short-lived +organ of sublimity, "Le Mihrab," his appreciation of the Del Puente +Giorgione, which he describes as a Giambellino blossoming into a Titian, +with just the added exquisiteness that the world has only felt since Big +George of Castelfranco took up the brush. How the panel exchanged the +Pyrenees for the North Shore passed dimly through my mind as barely worth +recalling. It was the usual story of the rich and enterprising American +collector. Hanson Brooks had bought it and hung it in "The Curlews," +where it bid fair to become legendary once more, but at last had lent it +with his other pictures to the Prestonville Museum of Science and the +Fine Arts, the goal of my present quest. While the picture lay _perdu_ at +Brooks's, there had been disquieting gossip; the Pretorian Club, which is +often terribly right in such matters, agreed that he had been badly sold. +None of this I believed for an instant. What could one doubt in a picture +owned by Mantovani and certified by Anitchkoff? Upon this point of +rumination the train stopped at Prestonville. + +My approach to the masterpiece was reverently deliberate. At the +American House I actually lingered over the fried steak and dallied long +with the not impossible mince pie. Thus fortified, I followed Main +Street to the Museum--one of those depressingly correct new-Greek +buildings with which the country is being filled. Skirting with a shiver +the bleak casts from the antique in the atrium and mounting an absurdly +spacious staircase, I reached a doorway through which the _chef +d'oeuvre_ of my dreams confronted me cheerlessly. Its nullity was +appalling; from afar I felt the physical uneasiness that an equivocal +picture will usually produce in a devotee. To approach and study it was +a civility I paid not to itself but to its worshipful _provenance_. A +slight inspection told all there was to tell. The paint was palpably +modern; the surface would not have resisted a pin. In style it was a +distant echo of the Giorgione at Berlin. Yet, as I gazed and wondered +sadly, I perceived it was not a vulgar forgery--indeed not a forgery at +all. It had been done to amuse some painter of antiquarian bent. I even +thought, too rashly, that I recognised the touch of the youthful Watts, +and I could imagine the studio revel at which he or another had +valiantly laid in a Giorgione before the punch, as his contribution to +the evening's merriment. The picture upon the pie wrought a black +depression that some excellent Japanese paintings were powerless to +dispel. As my train crawled up the tawny river, now inky, my thoughts +moved helplessly about the dark enigma--How could Mantovani have +possessed such rubbish? How could Anitchkoff, enjoying the use of his +eyes and mind, have credited it for a moment? My reflections +preposterously failed to rest upon the obvious clue, the mysterious +Marquesa del Puente, and it was not until I met Anitchkoff, some years +later, that I began to divine the woman in the case. + +After ten years of absence he had come back to America on something like +a triumphal tour. I had promptly paid my respects and now through a +discreet persistency was to have a long evening with him at the +Pretorian. As I studied the dinner card, guessing at his gastronomic +tastes, my mind was naturally on his remarkable career. Anitchkoff, +brought from Russia in childhood, had grown up in decent poverty in a +small New England city. Very early he showed the intellectual ambition +that distinguished all the family. Our excellent public schools made his +way to the nearest country college easy and inevitable. There began the +struggle the traces of which might be read in an almost melancholy +gravity quite unnatural in a man become famous at thirty-five. With the +facility of his race he learned all the languages in the curriculum and +read ferociously in many literatures. In his junior year the appearance +of a great and genial work on psychology made him the metaphysician he +has remained through all digressions in the connoisseurship and criticism +of art. How his search for ultimate principles involved a mastery of the +minutiae of the Venetian school I could only guess. But one could imagine +the process. Seeking to ground his personal preferences in a general +esthetic, he would have found his data absolutely untrustworthy. How +could he presume to interpret a Giorgione or a Titian when what they +painted was undetermined? Upon these shifting sands he declined to rear +his tabernacle. To the work of classifying the Venetians, accordingly, he +set himself with dogged honesty. As a matter of course Mantovani became +his chief preceptor--Mantovani who first discovered that the highly +complex organism we call a work of art has a morphology as definite as +that of a trilobite; that the artist may no more transcend his own forms +than a crustacean may become a vertebrate. For a matter of ten years +Anitchkoff, espousing a fairly Franciscan poverty, gave himself to this +ungrateful task. How he contrived to live in the shadow of the great +galleries was a mystery the solution of which one suspected to be bitter +and heroic. Gradually recognition as an expert came to him and with it an +irksome success. His fame had developed duties, and while his studies in +esthetics remained fragmentary, he was persistently consulted on all +manner of trivialities. From Piedmont to the confine of Dalmatia he knew +every little master that ever made or marred panel or plaster, and he +paid the penalty of such knowledge. Surmising the tragedy of his career +and its essential nobility I had discounted the ugly rumours connecting +him with the sale of the Del Puente Giorgione. When every fool learned +that the Giorgione at "The Curlews" was false, many inferred that +Anitchkoff, having praised it, must have a hand in Brooks's bad +bargain--a conclusion sedulously put about and finally hinted in cold +type by certain rival critics. Personally I knew that Brooks had bagged +his find under quite other advice, but while I would always have sworn to +Anitchkoff's complete integrity in the whole Del Puente matter, my wonder +also grew at so hideous a lapse of judgment. I hopelessly fell back upon +such banalities as the errability of mankind, being conscious all the +time that some special and most curious infatuation must underlie this +particular error. Anitchkoff's card interrupted some such train of +thought. He came in quietly as sunshine after fog. His face between the +curtains reminded me strangely of the awful moment in the Prestonville +Museum--paradoxically, for he was as genuine and reassuring as the Del +Puente Giorgione had been baffling and false. + +We began dinner with the stiffness of men between whom much is unsaid. +As the oystershells departed, however, we had found common memories. He +recalled delightfully those little northern towns in the debatable +region which from a critic's point of view may be considered Lombard or +Venetian, with a tendency to be neither but rather a Transalpine +Bavaria. To me also the glow of the Burgundy on the tablecloth brought +back strange provincial altarpieces in this territory--marvels in +crimson and gold, and a riddle for the connoisseur. Then the talk +reached higher latitudes. He mused aloud about that very simple reaction +which we call the sense of beauty and have resolutely sophisticated ever +since criticism existed--I intent meanwhile and eating most of a mallard +as sanguine as a decollation of the Baptist. By the cheese Anitchkoff +seemed confident of my sympathy, and I, having found nothing amiss in +him except an imperfect enjoyment of the pleasures of the table, was +planning how least imprudently might be raised the topic of the Del +Puente Giorgione. But it was he who spoke first. At the coffee he asked +me with admirable simplicity what people said about the affair, and I +answered with equal candour. + +"You too have wondered," he continued. + +"Of course, but nothing worse," I replied. + +Then with the hesitancy of a man approaching a dire chagrin, and yet with +a rueful appreciation of the humour of the predicament that I despair of +reproducing, he began: + +"It happened about this way. When I first came to Italy and began to meet +the friends of Mantovani, they told me of an early Giorgione he owned but +rarely showed. He used to speak of it affectionately as 'il mio Zorzi,' +to distinguish it perhaps from the more important example he had sold to +one of our dilettante iron-masters. The little unfinished portrait I +heard of, from those whose opinion is sought, as a superlatively lovely +thing. It was mentioned with a certain awe; to have seen it was a +distinction. For years I hoped my time would come, but the opportunity +was provokingly delayed. How should you feel if Mrs. Warrener should show +you all her things but the great Botticelli?" I nodded understandingly. +Mrs. Warrener, for a two minutes' delay in an appointment, had debarred +me her Whistlers for a year. + +"That's the way Mantovani treated me," Anitchkoff continued. "Whenever I +dared I asked for the 'Zorzi,' and he always put me off with a smile. +That mystified me, for I knew he took a paternal pride in my studies, but +I never got any more satisfactory answer from him than that the 'Zorzi' +was strong meat for the young; one must grow up to it, like S---- and +P---- and C---- (naming some of his closest disciples). These allusions +he made repeatedly and with a queer sardonic zest. Occasionally he would +volunteer the encouragement--for I had long ago dropped the +subject--'Cheer up, my boy; your turn will come.' When he so Quixotically +gave the picture to the Marquesa del Puente, it seemed, though, as if my +turn could never come, but I noted that he had been true to his doctrine +that the 'Zorzi' was only for the mature; the Del Puente was said to be +some years his senior. One knew exasperatingly little about her. It was +said vaguely that Mantovani entertained a tender friendship for her, +having been her husband's comrade in arms in half a dozen Carlist +revolts. That seemed enough to explain the gift." + +At this point Anitchkoff must have caught my raised eyebrows, for he +added contritely, "It was odd for Mantovani to give away a Giorgione. +You're quite right. I was ridiculously young." "You may imagine," he +pursued, "that the flight of the Giorgione to the Pyrenees only +embittered my curiosity. For years I might have seen it--shabbily to be +sure--by merely opening a door when Mantovani was occupied, now it had +departed to another planet. Remember those were my 'prentice days when I +lived obscurely and absolutely without acquaintance in the Marquesa's +world. She seemed as inaccessible as the Grand Lama. But you know how +things will come about in least expected ways: Jane Morrison, quite the +only human being who could possibly have known both the Marquesa and me, +actually gave me a very good letter of introduction. Then almost +oppressive good luck, came a note from her mountain Castle, telling that +the Chatelaine would be glad to receive me whenever my travels led me her +way. She mentioned our common enthusiasm for the Venetians and graciously +wanted my opinion on the Giorgione, which the enemies of Mantovani, her +friend and my spiritual father, as she called him, had spitefully +slandered. Such slanders had never happened to reach my ears but I was +already eager to refute them. + +"It was two years later that I made the visit on the way to the Prado. +All day long the diligence rattled up hill away from the railroad, and it +was dusk before I saw the Del Puente stronghold on its crag, evidently a +half hour's walk from the miserable _fonda_ where the diligence dropped +me. It was no hour to present an introduction, but I bribed a boy to take +the letter up that night. He returned, disappointingly, without an +answer. The next morning wore on intolerably amid a noisy squalor that I +could not escape until my summons came. It was early afternoon before an +equerry arrived on muleback bearing the Marquesa's note. She was +enchanted to meet me but desolated at the unlucky time of my arrival. +Tomorrow she crossed the Pyrenees for Paris and hoped my route might lie +that way. Meanwhile her home was wholly dismantled for the winter, and +the ordinary hospitalities were denied her. But she counted on the +pleasure of seeing me at four; we might at least chat, drink a cup of +tea, and pay our homage to Mantovani's 'Zorzi.' Nothing could have been +more charming or more tantalising. As I toiled up towards the Del Puente +barbican I could feel the precious afternoon light dwindling. Breathless +I set the castle bell a-jangling with something like despair. + +"Heavy doors opened in front of me as I passed the sallyport and the +grassgrown courtyard. At the entrance a majordomo in shabby but fairly +regal livery greeted me and conducted me through empty corridors and up +a massive staircase. The castle was indeed dismantled--apparently had +been in that condition from all time. As my superb guide halted before a +door which, exceptionally, was curtained, and knocked, my heart failed +me. I dreaded meeting this strange noblewoman, almost regretted the +nearness of the 'Zorzi,' knowing the actual colours could hardly surpass +those of my fancy. The little speeches I had been rehearsing resolved +themselves into silence again as I saw her by a tiny fire; a compelling +apparition, erect, with snowy hair waving high over burning black eyes. +To-day when I coldly analyse her fascination I recall nothing but these +simple elements. She permitted not a moment of the shyness that has +always plagued me. What our words were I do not now know, but I know +that I kissed the two hands she held out to me as she called me +Mantovani's son and her friend. Then I talked as never before or since, +told her of my struggles and ambitions, and from time to time I was mute +so that I might hear the deep contralto of the French she spoke +perfectly but with Spanish resonance. There was probably tea. Anyhow the +light went away from the deep casements unnoticed, and it was she who, +with a chiding finger, recalled me to duty and the Giorgione. 'Wretch,' +said she, 'you are here to see it not me. The light is going and your +devoirs yet unpaid.' + +"As she took my arm and led me through the gallery, I had an odd +presentiment of going towards a doom. While I followed her up a winding +stair, the misgiving increased. Did venerable lemurs inhabit the Basque +mountains? Could so magnificent; an old age be of this earth? An +ancestral shudder from the Steppes came over me. It was her ruddy train +rustling round the turns ahead that aroused these atavistic +superstitions. But when we stood together on the landing all doubts fell +away; a broad ray of sunlight that struck through an open doorway showed +her spectral beauty to be after all reassuringly corporeal. Over the +threshold she fairly pushed me with the warning, 'The place is holy, we +must be silent.' For a moment I was staggered by the wide pencil of light +that shot through a porthole and cut the room in two. The little octagon, +a tower chamber I took it to be, was a prism of shadow enclosing a shaft +of flying golddust. Outside it must have been full sunset. Near the +border line of light and darkness I faintly saw the 'Zorzi,' which +borrowed a glory from the moment and from her. I felt her hand on my +shoulder and knelt, it seemed for minutes, it probably was for seconds +only. The picture, which I had not seen, much less examined, swam in the +twilight and became the most gracious that had ever met my eyes. The dusk +grew as the disc of light climbed up the wall and faded. She whispered in +my ear, 'It is enough for now. You shall come again many times.' I recall +nothing more except the Marquesa's silvery hair and the long line of her +crimson gown as she bade me 'Au revoir' at the head of the great stairs. +That night in the miserable _fonda_ below I wrote out feverishly the +notes which you have doubtless read in the 'Mihrab,' and I would give my +right hand to be able to forget." + +There was a long pause, during which Anitchkoff sipped his cognac +nervously, waiting for my comment. I pressed him ruthlessly for the +bitter end of the tale. + +"Your hypnotism I grant, but what about Mantovani and Brooks?" I +asked bluntly. + +"For Mantovani I have no right to speak," Anitchkoff replied with +dignity. "He was my master and I can admit no imputation on his memory. +Besides, your guess is as good as mine. Whether he bought the picture +in his precritical days, keeping it as a warning and imposing it upon +his followers as a hoax--this I can merely conjecture. As for Brooks, +the case is simple; he couldn't resist a Giorgione at a bargain. But +since you will, you may as well hear the rest of the story--at least my +part of it. + +"Three years later I wintered in Paris. I had run into Bing's for a chat +and a look at the Hokusais, when who should come in but Hanson Brooks in +a high state of elation. An important purchase had just arrived. He urged +us both to dine and inspect it. Bing was engaged; I glad to accept. At +dinner Brooks teased me to the top of his bent. I was to imagine +absolutely the most important old master in private possession, his for a +beggarly price. I declined to humour him by guessing, and we slurred his +sweets and coffee to hasten to the apartment. On a dressing table faced +to the wall was a little panel which he slowly turned into view. For a +moment I gasped for joy, it was the Del Puente Giorgione; and then an +awful misgiving overcame me--I saw it as it was. Brooks marked my +amazement and, misreading the cause, slapped me on the back and asked +what I thought of that for a hundred thousand pesetas. The figure again +bowled me over. For the picture as it stood it was a thousand times too +much, while a mere tithe of the value of the name the panel bore. I +blurted out that the price was suspiciously wrong, and added that I must +see the portrait by daylight before venturing an opinion. The thought +that Mantovani had owned it for twenty years and more made a sleepless +night hideous; at sunrise my loyalty reasserted itself by a lame +compromise. + +"I daresay you will not blame me for hoping against hope, as I did the +next day and for some months after, that somewhere under that modern +paint there was indeed a sketch by Giorgione's hand. You must remember +that I could as little doubt my own existence as Mantovani's judgment on +such a point. In the sequel it seemed as if no humiliation were to be +spared me. It was Mantovani's chief rival and favourite victim, Merck, +who after a torturing correspondence had the pleasure of telling me he +had seen the 'Zorzi' painted by the amateur Ricard; it was Campbell who, +after recommending it to Brooks, publicly accused me of dishonest +brokerage. That's all I can tell you about the Del Puente Giorgione." + +I seized his hand impulsively, and clumsily offered him, in a breath, +whisky, shuffleboard, or cowboy pool--sound Pretorian remedies for all +human woes. These consolations he refused and took his leave. Midnight +found me in the same chair, thinking less of Anitchkoff, whose case now +lay clear, than of Mantovani and the Marquesa del Puente, about whom it +seemed there still might be something to say. + +The chances of a roving life have brought some slight addition to the +evidence. Stopping over a boat at Dieppe, a few summers ago, I happened +to see my good friend Mme. Vezin registered at the Casino, where I +recognised an acquaintance or two. That decided me to spend the night and +call at her villa. Her salon never failed to divert me, for, drawing +together the most disparate people, she handled them with easy +generalship. Under her chandelier ardent art students from the Middle +West and the poor relations of royalty might be heard exchanging +confidences and foreign tongues. So, as I climbed the hill at the verge +of the chalk and pasture, I felt sure of the unexpected, nor was I +disappointed. Shrill voices from my fellow countrywomen came down the +garden path and assured me that art had accompanied Mme. Vezin in her +annual retreat from the Luxembourg Gardens. Entering I found the same +perfect hostess and much the old dear, queer scene. I was bracing myself +for a polyglot evening--being with all my travel quite incapable of +languages--when the little maid announced importantly Mme. la Marquise +del Puente. All rose instinctively as there entered an erect white-haired +woman simply dressed in a black gown along which hung a notable crimson +scarf. Murmuring the indispensable banalities I bowed distantly, meaning +to observe her impersonally before an encounter. But she disarmed me by +throwing herself on my mercy. She knew me already through dear Mr. Hanson +Brooks. It was her first visit here; I, she saw, was of the household. +Would I not show her the curiosities and protect her from the bores? +Sullenly I followed her while she discussed the bijoux that littered the +shelves, and the deep modulations of her voice insensibly mollified me. I +had intended in Anitchkoff's behalf to count every wrinkle of her +seventy-five unhallowed years, but found myself instead admiring her +cloud of silver hair, avoiding the gaze of her black eyes, and noting +with a kind of fascination the precise gestures of her fine hand as she +took up or set down Mme. Vezin's poor little things. + +At last she settled into an armchair, beckoning me to a footstool, and I +began to talk unconscionably, she urging me on. She professed to know my +writings--it was of course impossible that she should have seen those +rare anonymous letters to the most ladylike of Boston newspapers: she +touched my dearest hobby, that republics and governments generally must +be judged not by their politics but by the amenity of the social life +they foster. Feeling that this was witchcraft or divination even more +questionable, and dreading she had another Giorgione to sell, I made a +last futile effort for freedom, proposing introductions. With a phrase +she subdued me, and my halting French began to be eloquent. I confessed +my innermost ambition, the creation of a criticism learned and judicial +in substance but impressionistic in form. She dwelt upon the beauties of +her eyrie in the Basque mountains which I must one day see. As we chatted +on obliviously an audience of marvelling art students and baigneurs +formed about us quietly. Their serried faces suddenly revealed to me my +ignominious surrender. I started as from a dream and, as she bade me not +forget to call, I kissed her long hand and fled with only a curt farewell +to my hostess. + +The channel breeze and the scent of the clover sobered me up. My pity +went out to Anitchkoff and then I remembered that I had seen Fouquart +at the Casino. It seemed too good to be true. Here at Dieppe were both +this enigmatic Marquesa and the prime repository of all authentic +scandal of our times. For the old dandy Fouquart had lived not wisely +but too well through three generations of cosmopolitan gallantry. Had +the censorship and his literary parts permitted, he could have written +a chronicle of famous ladies that would put the Sieur de Brantôme's +modest attempt to shame. I found him among the rabble, moodily playing +the little horses for five-franc pieces, but at the mention of the +Marquesa del Puente he kindled. + +"A grand woman," he said emphatically, as he dragged me to a safe corner, +"a true model to the anemic and neurotic sex of the day." When asked to +specify he told me how the energy and passion of twenty generations of +robber noblefolk had flowered in her. Scruples or fears she had never +known. From childhood attached to the Carlist cause, she had become the +soul of that movement in the Pyrenees. It was she who haggled with +British armourers, traced routes, planned commissariats, and most of all +drew from far and near soldiers of fortune to captain a hopeless cause. +In such recruiting, Fouquart implied, her loyalty had not flinched at the +most personal tests. What seemed to mystify Fouquart was that none of +these whilom champions ever attained the grace of forgetfulness. Every +year many of these tottering old gentlemen still reported at Castle del +Puente, and there she held court as of old. He himself, although their +relations had been not military but civil, occasionally made so idle a +pilgrimage. "To the shrine of our Lady of the crimson teagown," I +ventured. "You too, _mon vieux_!" he chuckled with ironical +congratulations. Ignoring the impertinence, I interposed the name of +Mantovani. "Our respected colleague," Fouquart exclaimed delightedly. +Before Mantovani fuddled his head about pictures he had been a good +blade, taking anyone's pay. For ten years and through half as many little +wars he had been the Marquesa's titular chief of staff. Her husband? +Well, her husband was a good Carlist--and a true philosopher. As I tore +myself away from the impending flow of scandal, Fouquart murmured +regretfully. "Must you go? It is a pity. We have only begun, _à demain_." +But we had really ended, for the next morning, shaking off a nightmare of +a red-robed Lilith who tried to sell me a questionable Zeuxis, I took the +early steamer. Of the Marquesa del Puente, whom I believe to be still at +her castle, I have seen or heard nothing since. + + * * * * * + +After some reflection in the corner of the Pretorian where Anitchkoff +once told me his story, I have come measurably into the clear about the +whole matter. Mantovani's position is plain up to a certain point. Either +the 'Zorzi' was given to him or else he bought it in his hopeful youth. +In either case he surely kept it merely as a solemn hoax on his learned +contemporaries. He may have withheld it from Anitchkoff maliciously, or +again out of simple considerateness for a trusting disciple. When +Mantovani came to set his worldly affairs in order, however, it must have +struck him that the joke could not be perpetuated on the walls of the San +Marcello gallery, while the panel was one that a great connoisseur would +not willingly have inventoried by his executors. It was at this time that +he bestowed the 'Zorzi' upon the Marquesa del Puente, as a final token +between them. It may fairly be assumed that he knew her to be incapable +of believing the precious souvenir to be a veritable Giorgione. Such +simplicity as that gift and credulity presuppose lay neither in his +nature nor in hers. Beyond this point certitudes fail us lamentably, and +we are reduced to an exasperating balance of possibilities. Did he send +the picture as an elaborate and unavoidable slight? or was it essentially +a delicate alms, in view of the Marquesa's known poverty and proved +resourcefulness? or, again, did he with a deeper perversity set the thing +afloat to trouble the critical world after he was gone, foreseeing +perhaps some such international comedy as was actually played with the +'Zorzi' as leading gentleman? All these things must remain problematical +for Mantovani cannot tell, and the Marquesa del Puente will not if indeed +she knows. + + + + +THE LOMBARD RUNES + + +Professor Hauptmann dropped wearily into his chair at the noisy Milanese +_table d'hôte_ and snarled out a surly "_Mahlzeit_" to the assembled +feasters. It was echoed sweetly from his left with a languishing +"_Mahlzeit, Herr Professor_." The advance disconcerted him. Resolving +upon a policy of complete indifference to the fluffy and amiable vision +beside him, he devoted himself singly to the food. The _risotto_ +diminished as his knife travelled rhythmically between the plate and his +bearded lips. Conceding only the inevitable, nay the exacted courtesies +to his neighbour, he performed still greater prodigies with the green +peas, and it was not until he leaned back for a deft operation with a +pocket comb, that the vivacious, blue-eyed one got her chance to ask if +it were not the Herr Professor Hauptmann, the great authority on the +Lombard tongue. The query floored him; he could not deny that it was, and +as curlylocks began to evince an intelligent interest in Lombard matters, +his stiffness melted like wax under a burning glass. He was soon if not +the protagonist at least the object of an animated, yes fairly intimate +conversation. + +To non-German eyes the pair were worth looking at. He was clad in +tightfitting sage-green felt, so it appeared, with a superfluity of +straps, buttons, lacings, and harness of all sorts. A conical Tyrol hat +garnished with a cock's plume and faded violets was crushed between his +back and that of the chair. As his large nervous feet reached for the +chairlegs below, one could see an expanse of moss-green stockings, only +half concealed at the extremities by resplendent yellow sandals. Bearded +and moustached after the military fashion, nothing betrayed the professor +except the myopic droop of the head. As for Fraülein Linda Göritz, no +mere man may adequately describe her. A German new woman of the artistic +stamp, she was pastelling through Lombardy where the Professor was +archeologising. Short, crisp curls gathered about her boyish head. Her +general effect was of a plump bonniness that might yield agreeably to an +audacious arm. She cultivated an aggressive pertness that would have +seemed vulgar, had it not been redeemed by something merely frank and +German. Shortskirted, she wore a high-strapped variant of the prevalent +sandals. The sides of her blue bolero were adorned with stilted yellow +lilies in the top of the Viennese new-art mode. In front her shirtwaist +appeared cool and white, at the sleeves it flowered alarmingly into +something like an India shawl. A string of massive amethysts completed a +discord as elaborate as a harmony of Richard Strauss. Her whole +impression was almost as inviting as it was grotesque. One could not chat +with her without liking her, and it is to be suspected that only a very +guileless or austere male could like her without proceeding to manifest +attentions. + +By the cheese, she had captured her amazed professor, and then she +carried him off bodily for coffee in the Arcade. He talked little, but it +didn't matter, for she talked much and well. Nor could a provincial Saxon +scholar be quite indifferent at finding himself known to an intelligent +and much travelled Viennese. A cousin, it appeared, had followed his +lectures and had highly extolled the ingenuity of his phonology of the +Lombard tongue, a language which was, she must remember--a hesitating +pause--yes, surely East--"East Germanic, Ja wohl!" responded the +Professor thunderously, though idiots had written to the contrary. And +then he told her at length the reasons why, until she pleaded her early +morning sketching and firmly bound him to accompany her the next +afternoon to the Certosa of Pavia. The Herr Professor rarely paid much +attention to hands, but as he held Fraülein Göritz's for Good Night he +could not but note that it was soft and filled his big grip so well that +he was sorry when it was gone. He dismissed the observation, however, as +unworthy a philologer and went to sleep pondering a new destruction for +the knaves who held the Lombard tongue to be not East but West Germanic. + +And here, to appreciate the weight and importance of Linda's fish, a +little explanation is necessary. Hauptmann was not merely a philologer, +which is a formidable thing in itself, but he belonged to the esoteric +group that deals with languages which have no literature. As he had often +remarked, any fool could compile a grammar of a language that has left +extensive documents; the process was almost mechanical, but to +reconstruct a grammar of a language that has left practically no remains, +that required acumen. Hauptmann did not belong, however, to the +transcendental school that creates purely inferential languages--East +Germanic and West, General Teutonic, Original Slavic, Indo-European and +the like. These are the _Dii majores_ and their inventions are as +complete as if one should detect, say, the relation of the little to the +big fleas not by the cunning use of the microscope but by sheer +inference. This larger game Hauptmann sagaciously left to others, ranging +himself with those who piece together the scanty and uncertain fragments +of languages that have existed but have failed to perpetuate themselves +in documents and inscriptions. Vandalic had powerfully allured him, and +so had Old Burgundian: he had had designs also upon Visigothic, and had +finally chosen Lombard rather than the others because the material was +not merely defective but also delightfully vague, affording a wide +opportunity for genuine philological insight. And indeed to classify a +language on the basis of a phrase scratched on a brooch, the +misquotations of alien chroniclers, the shifting forms of misspelled +proper names, is a task compared with which the fabled reconstruction of +leviathan from a single bone is mere child's play. + +From the mere scraps and hints of Lombard words in Paul the Deacon and +other historians anybody but a German would have declined to draw any +conclusion whatever. But just as every German citizen however humble, +becomes eventually a privy counsellor, a knight of various eagles of +diverse classes, an overstationmaster, or a royal postman, so German +science for the past hundred years has permitted no fact to languish in +its native insignificance. All have been promoted to be the sponsors of +imposing theories. And Hauptmann's theory, which got him the degree of +Ph.D., _maxima cum laude_, was that Lombard is an East Germanic tongue. +This he simple intuited, needing the degree, for the fifty mangled +Lombard words displayed none of those consonants which tending to double +or of those vowels which still vexing us as umlauts, mark a language as +belonging to the great Eastern or Western group. But Hauptmann was first +in the field, and if it was impossible for him to demonstrate that he was +right, it was equally impossible for anybody else to prove that he was +wrong. So he stood his ground and by dint of continually hitting the same +nail on the same head he had so greatly flourished that he was mentioned +respectfully as far as the Lombard tongue was known, and at thirty-four +had passed from the honourable but unpaid condition of Privat-dozent to +that of Professor Extraordinarius. + +Now if the Lombards, having ignominiously taken to Latin after their +descent upon Italy, had had to wait for Hauptmann to provide them with a +language, they had left certain more substantial traces of themselves in +the valley of the Po. They died and were buried in state with their arms +and utensils for the other world. So that, while one might well be in +doubt whether an inscription was Lombard or not, an antiquary will tell +you without fail whether a clasp, a spearhead or a sword is or is not the +work of this conquering but too adaptable race. In these archaeological +matters Hauptmann took a forced and languid interest. During nightmarish +hours, when the beer and cheese had not mingled aright, he was haunted by +lines of Lombard runes. Sometimes they were East Germanic, and that was a +grief, taking, as it were, the bloom from the guess that had made him +great; and again they were West Germanic, and that was awful, the +hallucination ending in a mortal struggle with the feather bed under +which German science is incubated, and passing off with an anguished +"Donnerwetter! It cannot be Lombard. It is not possible." His not +infrequent Italian trips had, then, an archaeological pretext, and this +had been more or less the purpose of the pilgrimage in which Fraülein +Linda had become by main force an alluring if disquieting incident. + +If there is anywhere in the world a more satisfactory sight than the +Pavian Certosa, certainly neither Hauptmann nor his chance acquaintance +had ever seen it. And indeed is there anywhere else such spaciousness of +cloisters, such profusion of minutely cut marble, such incrustation, for +better or worse, of semiprecious stones. Surely nothing in a sightseeing +way approaches it as a money's worth. Fraülein Linda, a superior person +who had begun to entertain doubts as to the externals of modern Austrian +palaces and the internals of new German liners, reserved her enthusiasms +for the pale Borgonones so strangely misplaced amid all that splendour. +Hauptmann, on the contrary, admired it all impartially. The sense of bulk +and inordinate expensiveness made him for a moment almost regret that +these later Lombards who reared this pile were not of the same race-stock +with himself. There was a moment in which he could have claimed them, had +principle permitted, as West Germans. Rather he soon forgot the Lombards +in the alternate rapture and dismay aroused by the petulant yet strangely +winning personality beside him. Professor Hauptmann was used neither to +being contradicted nor managed by mere women folk, and this afternoon he +was undergoing both experiences simultaneously. It was with a feeling of +relief that he left the Certosa, which seemed in a way her territory, and +started out with her upon the neutral highroad that led to the station. +They lingered, for the hour was propitious, and their plan was to kill an +hour or so before the evening train. As the glow came over the lowlying +fields, the weary forms of the labourers began to fill the road. At a +distance Hauptmann perceived one who importunately offered a small object +to the sightseers and was as regularly repulsed. Without waiting for the +professor, who stood at attention while Fraülein Linda sketched, this +beggar or pedlar approached and prayed to be allowed to show a rare and +veritable object of antiquity. A gruff refusal had already been given +when she pleaded that they hear the peasant talk, and inspect his +treasure. "Who knows, Herr Professor, but it might be Lombard?" "Wohlan," +he replied, and sullenly took the proffered spearhead. It was of iron, +patined rather than rusted, Lombard in form, and of evident antiquity. +Hauptmann gave it a nearsighted look and was about to return it +contemptuously when the peasant urged, "But look again, sir, there are +letters, a rarity." "I dare you to read them," cried Fraülein Linda, and +the Professor read painfully and copied roughly in his notebook a short +inscription in some Runic alphabet. A scowl followed the reading and the +abrupt challenge "Where did you find this piece?" "In the fields, +digging, Padrone," was the answer, "where I dug up also this," displaying +a bronze clasp of unquestionable Lombard workmanship. "Bravo," exclaimed +Linda, "now perhaps we shall know more about your dear Lombards. I +congratulate you, Herr Professor, from the heart." "Aber nein," he +growled back, "there were monuments enough already, and this is only a +bore, for I must buy and publish it. Others too may be found in the same +field, and Lombard will become a popular pastime. It is disgusting; +compassionate me. It was the single language that permitted truly +a-priori approach. It would be almost a duty to suppress these accursed +runes for the sake of scientific method. But no; the harm is done. We +must be patient." + +What the Herr Professor said and continued to say as he drove a hard +bargain with the peasant was but half the story. A glance at the runes +had shown an awful double consonant, and, as if that were not enough, an +appalling modified vowel. By a single word scratched by the untutored +hand of a rude warrior the most ingenious linguistic hypothesis of our +times was shattered beyond hope of repair. The spearhead was Lombard, +and Lombard, dire reflection to one who had gained fame by maintaining +the contrary, belonged to the West Germanic group of the Teutonic +tongues. Wild thoughts went through his head. He recalled that Paris had +seemed worth a mass, and considered a plenary retraction with a +facsimile publication of the runes. But as he pondered this course the +inexpediency of sacrificing so fair a theory to this mere brute fact +seemed indisputable. He thought also of ascribing the doubled consonant +and the modified vowel to the illiterate blundering of the spearman who +chiselled the letters. But as his fingers traced the sharp and +purposeful strokes he realised that such a contention would be laughed +out of the philological court. For a mad moment he thought of destroying +the miserable bit of iron, but in the first place that was in itself +difficult, and then the chattering lady at his side knew that he was in +possession of a Runic inscription, probably Lombard. She was widely +connected and would certainly babble in the very city where his bitter +rival Professor Anlaut had maintained that Lombard was West Germanic. As +Hauptmann noticed that the road had become deserted, that the dusk had +increased, and that Fraülein Linda's observations on the luckiness of +the "find" were interminable, a homicidal fancy just grazed the border +of his agitated consciousness. But no, that would not do either; the +scientific conscience forbade the destruction of any datum however +embarrassing. Destroy the spearhead he could not, and with a flash of +intuition it came over him that it must simply be lost as promptly and +hopelessly as possible. + +But this too was by no means easy. As they strolled down the road, ditch +after ditch in the lower fields presented itself as apt for the purpose, +but never the favourable moment. In fact Fraülein Linda's talk came back +to the accursed runes with exasperating persistency. They would confirm +his theory. She was happy in being present at this auspicious discovery. +It would be a cause wherefore she should not wholly be forgotten. It was +this sentimental hint that gave a reasonable hope of taking her mind off +the runes, and the harassed philologer set himself resolutely to the +task. For her slight advances he found bolder responses, and still +scanning the irrigating ditches closely for an especially oozy bottom, he +expatiated on the loveliness of the afterglow and confirmed the +recollection of last evening that Fraülein Linda's dimpled hand might be +an eminently pleasant thing to hold. Thus gradually she was won from the +Lombard runes to more personal interests, and as in the slow progress +towards the station they neared a bridge, Hauptmann divined the spot +where the East Germanic hypothesis lately in peril of death might receive +an indefinite reprieve. + +He found Linda, as he now called her, neither disinclined to sit on the +parapet nor to receive the support of his arm. Her chatter had dwindled +to sighs and exclamations. He felt the need of a competing sound as the +chug of the spearhead in the ditch should announce the discomfiture of +the West Germans. But before committing the telltale runes to this +ditch, Hauptmann scanned it carefully over Linda's curly head, and +considered thoughtfully its worthiness to receive so important a +deposit. The survey could not have been more reassuring. Like so many of +the main irrigating ditches that carry the water of Father Po and his +tributaries to the lower fields, the sluggish stream consisted equally +of water, weeds, and ooze. No Lombard or other object held in that +mixture was likely soon to be found. There was a moment of tense silence +and then a single plucking sound which various eavesdroppers might have +located at the surface of the ditch or near Linda's plump left cheek. +Neither guess would have been wrong, for if she sighed once more it was +not for the vanishing Lombard runes. + +Fraülein Linda Göritz is, if something of a sentimentalist, also a bit of +an analyst, and when, in the train, she learned that the spearhead was +lost she accepted Hauptmann's cheerful comment with a certain scepticism. +He insisted with a suspicious vivacity that it didn't matter, that indeed +he preferred to have the merely professional reminiscence eliminated from +an experience that had personally moved him so deeply. To this reading of +the affair she naturally could not object, but as she gave him her hand +quite formally for farewell, she said: "To-night you have forgotten the +runes, tomorrow you forget me, nicht wahr? You are wrong. Them you will +not find again: there are many of me. You should have forgotten me +first." She escaped while a protest was on his lips. + +Since that evening Fraülein Göritz has followed Professor Hauptmann's +brilliant career with a certain interest and perplexity. He has ceased to +be an Extraordinarius, but his promotion was based on his ingenious +researches in Vandalic. After that trip to the Certosa he discontinued +all Lombard studies, and, it is said, actually withdrew from publication +a scathing article in which the West Germanic contingent were handled +according to their deserts. She has a vague and not wholly comfortable +feeling of having counted for something as a deterrent, and she has been +heard to hint that his strange distaste for his favourite Lombard +investigations, is due to a deep and intimates cause--an unfortunate +affair of the heart associated with that historic region. + + + + +THEIR CROSS + + +How their cross reached Fourth Avenue one may only surmise, but there +surely was knavery at some point of its transit. It was too splendid in +its enamelling, too subtle in the chiselling of its gilded silver to have +slipped into the byways of the antiquary's trade with the consent of the +Tuscan bishop who controlled or should have controlled its sale. For the +matter of that, it still contained one of St. Lucy's knuckles, which in +case of a regular transaction would have been transferred to a less +precious reliquary. No, there must have been a pilfering sacristan, or +worse, a faithless priest, to explain its translation from the Chianti +hills to Novelli's shop in Fourth Avenue. + +Once there it was certain that one day or another John Baxter must find +it. How he became infected with the collector's greed and acquired the +occult knowledge that feeds that malady it would take too long to tell. +Yet it may be said that the yearning amateur was about the only potent +ingredient in the mild composite that was John Baxter. His eyes, skin, +hair, and raiment had never seemed of any particular colour, nor did he +as a whole seem of any especial size. His parents, who were neither rich +nor poor, cultured nor the contrary, had sent him to an indifferent +school and college. In the latter he had joined a middling chapter of a +poorish fraternity, and, was graduated with a rank that was neither high +nor low. During those four easy going years he had played halfhearted +baseball and football, and had all but made the "Literary Monthly." + +On entering the world, as the phrase goes, he came into possession of a +small patrimony and accepted a minor editorial position on a feeble +religious monthly. For the ensuing fifteen years John Baxter overtly read +manuscripts, composed headlines for edifying extracts, even wrote +didactic little articles on his own account. Secretly, meanwhile, the +lust of the eye was claiming him, and he was becoming surcharged with a +single great passion. + +His ascent through books, prints, Colonial furniture, miniatures, rugs, +and European porcelain to the dizzy heights of Chinese porcelain and +Japanese pottery and painting, it would be tedious and unprofitable to +follow. It is enough to say that all along the course his dull grey eye +emphatically proved itself the one thing not mediocre about him. It +grasped the quality of a fine thing unerringly; it sensed a stray good +porcelain from the back row of the auction room. How he knew without +knowing why was a mystery to his fellows and even to himself. For if he +frequented the museums of New York, and had made one memorable pilgrimage +to the Oriental collections of Boston, he was quite without travel, and +his education had been chiefly that of the shops and salesrooms. Thus his +finds represented less knowledge than an active faith which served as +well. A Gubbio lustre jug of museum rank had been bought before he knew +the definition of majolica. Before he had learned the peril of such a +hazard he had fearlessly rescued a real Kirman mat from an omnibus sale. +His scraps of old Chinese bronze and stoneware represented the promptings +of a demon who had yet to discover the difference between Sung and +Yungching. + +These achievements gave John Baxter a certain notoriety in his world and +the unusual luxury of self esteem. What brought him the scorn of blunter +associates, who openly derided him as a crank, assured him a certain +deference from the _cognoscenti_. The small dealers respected him as an +authority; the auctioneers greeted him by name as he slipped into his +chair, and appealed to him personally when a fine lot hung shamefully. He +had the entrée at two or three of the more discerning among the great +dealers, who occasionally asked his opinion or gave him a bargain. In +short a really impressive John as he sees himself was growing up within +the skin of poor John Baxter, feeble scribbler for the weak-kneed +religious press. As he looked about his cluttered room of an evening he +could whisper proudly, "No, it's not a collection, but I can wait. And +there is meanwhile nothing in this room that is not good, very good of +its type." Sometimes in more expansive musings he would take out of its +brocaded bag a wooden tobacco box artfully incrusted with lacquer, +pewter, and mother of pearl, the work of the great Kôrin, and would +declare aloud, "Nobody has anything better than this, no museum, +certainly no mere millionaire." + +Such days and nights had fed an already inordinate craving. He burned +for the beautiful things just beyond his grasp, suffered for them amid +his morning moralisings, dreamt of them at night. His was never the +disinterested love of the beautiful that certain lucky collectors retain +through all the sordidness of the quest. Had you observed John in the +auction room you would have felt something concentratedly feline in his +attitude and would hardly have been surprised had he pounced bodily upon +a fine object as it passed near him down the aisle. No other ghost of +the auction rooms--and strange enthusiasts they are, had an eye that +gleamed with so ominous a fire. There is peril in turning even a weak +will into a narrow channel. It may exert amazing pressures--like the +slender column of mere water that lifts a loaded car to, or with bad +direction, through, the roof. + + * * * * * + +Whether we should call John Baxter's courtship and marriage a digression +or the culmination of his career as a collector might have remained +doubtful were it not for the cross in Fourth Avenue. When he found it, +hardly a week before he met Miriam Trent, he naturally did not take it +for a touchstone. That it was in a manner such, may be inferred from the +fact that the anxious morning before the wedding, he stopped at Novelli's +for a last look, a ceremony strangely parodying the bachelor supper of +more ordinary bridegrooms. After a lingering survey of its deep +translucent enamels penned within crisply chiselled silver, like tiny +lakes rimmed by ledges, he handed the cross back to the reverent Novelli. +It had never looked more desirable, he barely heard Novelli's genial +congratulation on the coming of the great day, as he wondered how so +splendid a rarity had stayed in that little shop for two years. On +reflection the reason was simple. The price, six hundred dollars, was a +shade high for another dealer to pay, while the cross itself was so fine +an object as merely to excite the distrust of Novelli's average +customers. "Fools," muttered John, "how little they know," and hurried +towards the florist's. As he made his way back towards an impressive +frock-coat, his first, he found himself recalling with a certain +satisfaction that even if this were not his wedding day, he really never +could have hoped to buy the cross. + +What Miriam Trent would have thought had she learned that her bridegroom +waived all comparison between herself and the cross only because it was +unattainable, one may hardly surmise. But as a sensible person who +already knew John's foible and was accustomed to making allowances, she +possibly would have been amused and just a bit relieved. She was +everything that he was not. Where one passion absorbed him, she gave +herself gladly to many interests and duties. A second mother to her +numerous small brothers and sisters, and to her amiable inefficient +father as well, she had somehow managed school and college for herself, +and in accepting John and his worldly goods she gave up a decently paid +library position. The insides of books were also familiar to her, in +impersonal concerns she had a shrewd sense of people, in general she +faced the world with a brave and delicate assurance. Finally she believed +with fervour the creed and ethics that John happened to inculcate every +week, and it is to be feared that she took him for a prophet of +righteousness. Armed at all points that did not involve her personal +interests, there was she peculiarly vulnerable. She must have accepted +John, aside from the glamour of his edifying articles, simply because of +his evident and plaintively reasserted need of her. + +Yet they were very happy together, as people who marry on this unequal +basis often are. After their panoramic week at Niagara, along the St. +Lawrence, and home by the two lakes and the Hudson, they settled down in +John's room, which by the addition of two more had been promoted to being +the living room of an apartment. Her few personal possessions made a +timid, tolerated appearance between his gilt Buddhas and pewter jugs. But +she herself queened it easily over the bizarre possessions now become +hers. Had you seen her of an evening, alert, fragile, golden under the +lamp, and had you seen John's vague glance turn from a moongrey row of +Korean bowls to her deeper eyes, you would have been convinced not merely +that he regarded her as the finest object in his collection, but also +that he was right. It would be intrusive to dwell upon the joys and +sorrows of light housekeeping in New York on a small income. Enough to +say that the joys preponderated in this case. They read much together, he +gradually cultivated an awkward acquaintance with her friends--he had +practically none, and at times she made the rounds of the curiosity shops +and auctions with him. Here, she explained, her part was that of +discourager of enthusiasm, but repression was never practised in a more +sympathetic and discerning spirit. Her taste became hardly inferior to +his, and their barren quests together established a new comradeship +between them. It was probably, then, merely an accident that he never +included Novelli's in these aimless rounds, and so never showed her the +enamelled cross. + +In the long run their imaginary foraging, always a recreation to her, +became a sore trial to him. With the demonstration that two really cannot +live cheaper than one, the old covetousness smouldering for want of an +outlet once more burned hotly within. It expressed itself outwardly in a +general uneasiness and irritability. The little fund, her money and his, +that lay in savings bank began to spend itself fantastically. One day he +reckoned that two-thirds of the cross had been put by, and banished the +disloyal thought with difficulty. Visionary plans of selling something +and making the collection pay for itself were entertained, but when it +came to the point nothing could be spared. Perhaps the gnawings of this +hunger might have been controlled, had he thought to confide in Miriam. +More likely yet, a system of rare and strictly limited indulgence might +have banked the fires between times. However that be, the thwarted +collector was to be sunk for a time in the devoted husband. Miriam lay +ill of a wasting fever. + +After a two days' trial of the rooms, the doctor and the trained nurse, +who scornfully slept amid the collection, regarding it as a permanent +centre of infection, declared the situation impossible, and with the +slightest preliminary consultation of bewildered John, white-coated men +were sent for, who carried Miriam to the hospital. About her door John +hung like a miserable debarred ghost, for after the first few days her +mind wandered painfully, and his presence excited her dangerously. For +weeks he vacillated between perfunctory work at the office, +unsatisfactory talks with busy doctors and impatient nurses, and long +apprehensive hours in what had been home. In "Little Venice," in the best +powder-blue jar and the rest, he found no solace, on the contrary, the +occasion of revolting suggestions. There was an imp that whispered that +she must die and that he should resume collecting. With horror he fled +the evil place, and spent an endless night on tolerance within hearing of +her moanings. + +Fevers have this of merciful, that a term is set for them. Her malady +though it often maims cruelly rarely kills. The temperature line on the +chart, which for days had described a Himalaya, dwindled suddenly to a +Sierra, as quickly to an Appalachian, and then became a level plain. +Terribly wracked by the ordeal but safe they pronounced her. The visiting +physician occasionally omitted her in his daily round. But convalescence +was more trying than the struggle with the fever. The lethargic hours +seldom brought either sleep or rest. Beset by nervous fears, the +collective suffering of the giant building weighed upon her, and she +begged to be taken home. + +It was a pathetic triumphal entry that she made among their household +gods. The sheer grotesqueness of her home struck her painfully for the +first time, as she was helped to an ancient chair that stood before the +suspended Kirman rug--her throne John had always called it. As she once +more occupied it, there came a curious revulsion against her gorgeously +shabby domain. Other women, she reflected, had neat places, cool expanses +of wallpaper, furniture seemly set apart. She resented the stuffiness of +it all, the air of musty preciousness that pervaded the room. And when +John took both her hands and said: "Now the collection is itself again; +the queen has come home," she broke down and cried. She did much of that +in the weeks that followed. You would have supposed her another person +than plucky Miriam Baxter. But the situation hardly made for +cheerfulness. Light housekeeping being no longer practicable, they +depended on the unwilling ministrations of a slovenly maid. John, who, to +do him justice, had never boasted much surplus vitality, felt vaguely +that something was now due from him that he could not supply. To escape +an inadequacy that was painful he drifted back to the exhibitions and +sales, this time alone. He never bought anything, for he was saving +manfully for a purpose that daily increased in his mind. He would pay +with his pocketbook what with his person he could not. + +His always modest luncheon reduced itself to a sandwich, he walked to +save carfares, cut off two Sunday newspapers, wore a threadbare spring +overcoat into the winter. Then one day he took Miriam to a famous +specialist from whom they learned very much what they already knew, but +with the advantage of working orders. The great man told John in brief +that it was a bad recovery which might readily become worse. A change and +open air life were imperative; a sea voyage would be best. If such a +change were not made, and soon, he would not be answerable for the +consequences. + +All this John retold in softened form to Miriam in the waiting room. "We +might as well give it up," she said resignedly. "Of course we can't +travel. We haven't the money, and you can't get away." With the nearest +approach to pride he had ever shown in a nonaesthetic matter John +protested that he could get away, and better yet that there was money, +five hundred good dollars, more than enough for a glimpse at the Azores +and Gibraltar, a hint of rocky Sardinia, a day at Naples, a quiet +fortnight on the sunny Genoese Riviera, and then home again by the long +sea route. His thin voice rose as he pictured the voyage. Even she +caught something of his spirits, and as they got off the car near +Novelli's, by a sudden inspiration John said, "Now for being a good +girl, and doing what the doctor says, you shall see the most beautiful +thing in New York." + +In a minute Novelli was carefully taking the precious thing from its +drawer and solemnly unfolding the square of ruby velvet in which it lay. +Miriam saw the rigid Christ, at the left Mary Mother in azure enamel, at +the right the Beloved Apostle in Crimson. From the top God Father sent +down the pearly dove through the blue. Below, a stately pelican offered +its bleeding breast to the eager bills of its young. And it all glowed +translucently within its sharp Gothic mouldings. Behind, the design was +simpler--in enamelled discs the symbols of the evangelists. St. Lucy's +knuckle lay visible under a crystal lens at the crossing, and surely +relic of a saint was seldom encased more splendidly. Even pathetic Miriam +kindled to it. "Yes, it is the most beautiful thing in New York," she +admitted. "I suppose it costs a fortune, Mr. Novelli." "No, a mere +nothing, for it, six hundred dollars." "Why, we might almost buy it," she +cried. "It's lucky you haven't saved more, John. I really believe you +would buy it." "I'd like to sell it to Mr. Baxter," said Novelli, "he +understands it," only to be cut short with a brusque, "No, it's out of +our class, but I wanted Mrs. Baxter to see it, and I wanted you to know +that she appreciates a fine object as much as I do." "Evidently," said +Novelli as they parted. "I hope she will do me the honour of coming in +often; there are few who understand, and whether they buy or not I am +always glad to have them in my place." + +About a week later John Baxter closed and locked his office desk, hurried +down to the savings bank, and drew five hundred dollars. Most of it was +to go into steamer tickets forthwith, a little balance was to be changed +into Italian money. As he meditated a route downtown, he recalled the +only adieu still left unpaid. To be sure the cross had remained for three +years at Novelli's but it might go forever any day, and with it a great +resource for a weary moralist. Farewells were plainly in order, and with +no other thought he walked back to the shop and greeted Novelli, who +without waiting to be asked produced the crimson parcel that contained +the precious relic. As John looked it over from panel to panel, as if to +stamp every composition upon his memory, Novelli watched him, reflected, +hesitated, smiled benevolently, and spoke. "Mr. Baxter, I am in great +need of money and must sacrifice the cross. I want you to take it. +Vogelstein has offered me four hundred and fifty dollars for it but he +shall not have it if I can sell it to anybody who deserves it better and +will value it. It is yours at that price. What do you say?" + +John tried for words that failed to come. + +"It's a bargain, Mr. Baxter," pursued Novelli, "but of course if you +don't happen to have the money there's nothing more to say." + +"But I have it right here," retorted John in perplexity, "only it's for +quite a different purpose." + +"You know your own business, of course, and I don't urge you, but if you +have the money and don't take it, you make a great mistake. You know that +well enough, and then remember how Mrs. Baxter admired it the other day." + +"Yes-s," faltered John dubiously. + +"Then why do you hesitate? You know what it is, and what it is worth, as +an investment, I mean. By taking your time and selling it right you can +surely double your money." + +"But"-- + +"No, there it is. I am honestly doing you a favour," and Novelli thrust +the swathed cross into the hands of his fairly hypnotised customer. +John's left hand clutched it instinctively, while with the frightened +fingers of his right he counted off nine fifty dollar bills. + +"Thank you, Mr. Baxter, neither you nor your wife will ever regret it. +Nobody in America has anything finer, and that you know." + +These words pounded terribly in John's brain as he found his way home, +stumbled up stairs, and boggled with the latchkey. All the way down, +unheeded passersby had wondered at the crimson burden (he had not waited +for a parcel to be made) hugged closely to the shabby black cutaway. The +danger signal smote Miriam in the eyes as she rose to be kissed. Standing +away from her, he placed the shrouded cross on the table and tried for +the confession that would not say itself. + +"Why, it's our cross," she cried wonderingly. "Mr. Novelli has lent it to +us for a last look before we go where the lovely thing was made. But, +John, what's the matter? How you do look! Has something awful happened?" + +"Yes," and the pale nondescript head sunk into his hands. "I have bought +it. I don't know how. I had the money, I was there, and I bought it." + +She repressed the word that was on her lips, and the harder thought that +was in her mind, looked long at his humiliation until the pity of a +mother came over her tired face. She had mercifully escaped scorning him. +Then she spoke. + +"It was a bad time to buy it, wasn't it, Dear, but it is a beautiful +thing, almost worth a real trip to Italy." She added with a curious air +of a suppliant, "And then perhaps we can sell it." + +"Yes, that's so, perhaps we can sell it," echoed John listlessly, +wrapping the cross closely in its crimson cover and laying it in his most +treasured lacquer box. "Yes, perhaps we can sell it," he repeated, and +there was a long silence between them. + + + + +THE MISSING ST. MICHAEL + + +Dennis, our Epicurean sage, addressed us all as we lolled on his terrace, +drank his tea, and divided our attention between his fluent wisdom and +his spacious view of the Valdarno. + +"The question is," he repeated, "what will Emma do? Will she be brave, +or, rather ordinary enough, to act for herself and him, or will she +refuse him because of what she thinks we shall think of them both? As we +calmly sit here she may be deciding. That is if you are sure, Harwood, +that Crocker was really bound for Emma's when you saw him." + +"How could anybody mistake his beaming Emma face?" growled Harwood. "He +was marching like a squad of Bersaglieri." "And she knows that Crocker +wants it terribly?" added the Sage's wife. + +"She does, indeed," sighed Frau Stern repentantly, "for that demon +(pointing to Harwood) did tell me and I haf, babylike, told her." + +"Here is the case, then," resumed Dennis: "She knows we know Crocker +wants her and it, but she doesn't know he doesn't know she has it." + +"Precisely, most clearly and gracefully put, my dear," laughed +Mrs. Dennis. + +"And she knows, too," he pursued imperturbably, "that we may think he +wants her merely for it." + +"Bravo!" puffed Harwood smokily from his camp-stool. "She is too clever +to expect any weak generosity from any of us. She believes we will think +the worst. And won't we? Viva Nietzsche, and perish pity!" + +"Shame upon us, then," cried Frau Stern. "She will gif up that fine young +man for fear of our talk? Never!" + +"She will send him away, dear Frau Stern, the moment he gives her the +chance," declared Dennis. "What else can she do? She can never take the +chance of our surmises. Behold us, the destroyers! The victims are +prepared." + +"Can't we do something about it?" Harwood chuckled. "Repent? Be as +harmless as doves? Let's write a roundrobin solemnly stating that, to +the best of our knowledge and belief, he wants her for herself and +not for it." + +"Gently," exclaimed Mrs. Dennis, as she blew out Harwood's poised and +lighted match. "You surely don't imagine Crocker will propose the very +day she shows it to him." + +"My dear," protested Dennis, "don't we all know him well enough to +understand that any shock will produce that effect? If his mother died or +his horse, his vines got the scale, his Ghirlandaio sprung a crack, his +university gave him an honorary degree--these would all be reasons for +proposing to Emma. Dear old Crocker is like that; any jolt would affect +him that way." + +"Has it occurred to anybody that Emma may have foreseen just this +complication and quietly got rid of it first?" suggested Mrs. Dennis, the +really practical member of our group, adding, "That's how I'd have served +you if I'd wanted him." + +"Never," responded Dennis. "She loves it too well, and then she would +feel we felt she had spirited it away on purpose." + +"Besides," continued Harwood, whose buried aspirations Emmawards had long +ago flowered into a minute analysis of her moods, "she is true blue, you +know. She will never serve us like that. She may immolate the mighty +Crocker upon the altar of our collective curiosity, but she will never +dodge us." + +"Cannot we all go back to our own countries and leave them alone," +suggested Frau Stern almost tearfully; "but no; we no longer haf +countries. Here we belong; elsewhere the air is too strong for our little +lungs. I pity us, and I pity more those poor young people. If only they +will but haf the sense to trample on our talk." + +"That, too, would be a sensation," Dennis added cheerfully, and we went +our ways, as usual, without having reached anything so vulgar as a +conclusion. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Emma Verplanck stood in the _loggia_ of her tiny villa and +winced in the focus of the curiosities she despised. She scanned the +white road that rimmed her valley before descending sharply to Florence +beyond the hill, and especially the crescent of dust where an approaching +figure would first appear. Now and then, as if for a rest, her eye traced +the line of flaming willows down toward the plunge of her brook into the +larger valley, or the file of spectral poplars that led into the +vineyards hanging on the declivity of Fiesole. Above all, the gaunt and +gashed bulk of Monte Ceceri glistened hotly against a pale blue sky, for +if it was a backward April, the first stirring of summer was already in +the air. She thrilled with disgust as she asked herself why she dreaded +this call. Why should she fear lest an elementary test, a very simple +explanation such as she planned for that afternoon, should compromise an +established friendship? + +Interrupting this self-examination the mighty but unwieldy form of Morton +Crocker loomed in the white dust crescent, and his premature panama +swiftly followed the curve of the low grey wall towards her gate. As his +steps were heard, her mind flew to the forbidding St. Michael on his gold +background in her den and she could fairly hear Harwood saying to all of +us, "Three to one on the Saint, who takes me?" The jangling of the bell +recalled her to Crocker, and she braced herself in the full sunlight to +receive him. For a moment, as he loomed in the archway, she indulged that +especial pride which we reserve for that which we might possess but +austerely deny ourselves. + +Her mingled moods produced an unusual softness. Crocker felt it and +wondered as she gave him her hand and had him sit for a prudent moment +outside. All the hot way up the valley he had had a sense of a crisis. It +was odd to be summoned whither he had been drifting for four years, and +now the sight of Emma disarmed, perplexed him. It seemed ominous. One +finds such transparent kindness in clever people generally at parting, +when one would be remembered for one's self and not for a phrase. Then +Crocker for an instant glimpsed the wilder hope that the softening was +for him and not for an occasion. Emma had never seemed more desirable +than to-day. A white strand or two in her yellow hair, the tiny wrinkles +at the corners of her steady grey eyes, and the untimely thinness of her +long white fingers made him eager to ward off the advancing years at her +side, to keep unchanged, as it were, these precious evidences that she +had lived. + +Some sense of his tenderness she must have had, for as she chatted +gravely about his farming, about the lateness of the almond blossoms, +about everything except people, who always tempted her sharp tongue, her +manner became almost maternally solicitous. "To-day you shall have your +first tea in my den, Crocker" (so much she presumed on her two years' +seniority), she said at last, "and you are commanded to like my things." +"What has thy servitor done to deserve this grace?" he managed to reply. +"Nothing," she said, "graces never are for deserts. Or, rather, you poor +fellow, you have been asked to tramp out here in this glare and really +deserve to sit where it is cool." As they walked through the hall and the +little drawing-room Crocker still felt uneasily that no road with Emma +Verplanck could be quite as smooth as it seemed. + +The den deserved its name, being a tiny brown room with a single arched +window that looked askance at the cypresses and bell towers of Fiesole. +Beside a couch, an Empire desk, and solid shelves of books, the den +contained only a couple of chairs and the handful of things that Emma +laughingly called her collection. As Crocker took in vaguely bits of +Hispano-Moresque and mellow ivories, a broad medal or so and a +well-poised Renaissance bronze, a Japanese painting on the lighted wall, +and one or two drawings by great contemporaries, Emma's friends, he was +amazed at the quality of everything. A sense of extreme fastidiousness +rebuked, in a way, his more indiscriminate zeal as a collector. +Uncomfortably near him on the dark wall he began to be aware of something +marvellous on old gold when tea interrupted his observations. Tea with +Emma was always engrossing. The mere practice and etiquette of it brought +the gentlewoman in her into a lovely salience. Her hands and eyes became +magical, her talk light and constant without insistency. A symbolist +might imagine eternal correspondence between the amber brew and her sunny +hair. It was easy to adore Emma at tea, and generally she did not resent +a discreetly pronounced homage. But this afternoon she grew almost +petulant with Crocker as they talked at random, and finally laughed out +impatiently: "I really can't bear your ignoring my St Michael, especially +as you have never seen him before and may never see him again. St. +Michael, Mr. Morton Crocker." + +"My respects," smiled Crocker, as he turned lazily toward the gilded +panel. There was the warrior saint, his lines stiff, expressive and +hieratic, his armour glistening in grey-blue fastened with embossed +gilded clasps; here and there gorgeous hints of a crimson doublet--the +unmistakable enamel, the grave and delicate tension of a masterpiece by +the rare Venetian, Carlo Crivelli. Crocker gasped and started from his +seat, losing at once his cup, his muffin, and his manners. "By Jove, Miss +Verplanck, Emma, it's my missing St. Michael. Where did you ever find it? +I must have it." His toasted muffin rolled unconsidered beside the spoon +at his feet. Emma retrieved the cup--one of a precious six in old +Meissen--he retained the saucer painfully gripped in both hands. + +"I was afraid it was," she answered, "but look well and be sure." + +"Of course we must be sure. You'll let me measure it, won't you? It's the +only way." Assuming his permission he climbed awkwardly upon the chair, +happily a stout Italian construction, and as she watched him with a +strange pity, he read off from a pocket rule: "One metre thirty-seven. A +shade taller than mine, but there is no frame. Thirty-one centimetres; +the same thing. Yes, it is my missing St. Michael," and as he climbed +down excitedly he hurried on: "How strange to find it here. I never +talked to you about it, did I? That's odd, too. I've been hunting for it +for years. You didn't know, I suppose. I want it awfully. What can we do +about it?" For Crocker, this fairly amounted to a speech, and before +replying Emma gave him time to sit down, and thrust another cup of tea +into his unwilling hands. Having thus occupied and calmed him, she said, +"I'm very sorry, I hoped it would turn out to be something else. I only +learned last week that you wanted it. You have seldom talked about your +collecting to me. There's nothing to do about it. I wish there were. You +want it so much. But I can't give it to you. That wouldn't do. And I +won't sell it to you. I wouldn't to anybody, and then that wouldn't do, +either. So there we are. Only think of their talk, and you'll see the +situation is impossible." + +Crocker's eyes flashed. "There's a lot we might do about it if you will, +Emma. Damn the St. Michael. If his case is so complicated, and I don't +see it, leave him out of the reckoning between us. Can't you see what I +need and want?" + +"They wouldn't see it, and I'm shamefully afraid of them," she said +simply, and then she added indignantly, "How could you dare, to-day? I +can't trust you for any perception, can I?" + +Not perceiving that her scruple was belated, Crocker blurted out +ruefully. "I'm an ass, and I'm sorry and I'm not. It's what I have wanted +to say these many days, and perhaps it might as well be so. But I've +wounded you and for that I'm more than sorry." + +"Let's not talk about it," Emma said gently. "Of course I'll forgive an +old friend for saying a little more than he should. Only you must stop +here. You'll forgive me, too, for owning your St. Michael. I'm honestly +sorry it happened so. I would dismiss him if I could, for he is likely to +cost me a good friend. But he creates a kind of impossibility between us, +doesn't he, and for a while it's best you shouldn't come, not till things +change with you. It's kindest so, isn't it, Crocker?" + +There was more debate to this effect before the impassive St. Michael, +until at last Crocker agreed impatiently, "You're right, Emma, or at +least you have me at a disadvantage, which comes to the same thing. +And yet it's all wrong. You are putting a painted saint between yourself +and a friend who wants to be more. It's logical, but it isn't human. As +for their talk, they'll talk, anyhow, and we might as well stand it +together. I'm probably off for a long time, Emma. I hope you'll find your +St. Michael companionable. When you decide to throw him out of the +window, let me know. Forgive me again. Good-by." She gave him her hand +silently and followed him out into the _loggia_. As she watched him +striding angrily down the valley and away, she had the air of a woman who +would have cried if she were not Emma Verplanck. + + * * * * * + +Crocker was right, we all did talk. And naturally, for had we not all +been eagerly awaiting the collision announced by the cessation of his +visits and the rumour that he was bound north. In council on Dennis's +terrace, however, we came to no unanimous reading of the affair. +Generally, we felt that even if Emma wanted a way out, which we guessed +to be the fact, she would never expose herself to our batteries, and with +regret we opined that there was no way, had we wished, to divest +ourselves of our collective formidableness. On all sides we divined a +deadlock, with Dennis the only dissenting voice. He insisted scornfully +that we none of us knew Emma, that we underestimated both her emotional +capacity and her resourcefulness, and, finally, in a burst of rash +clairvoyancy he declared that she would give away both the St. Michael +and herself, but in her own time and manner, and with some odd personal +reservation that would content us all. We should see. + +Given the rare mixture of the conventional and instinctive that was Emma +Verplanck, something of the sort did indeed seem probable. For ten years +she had inhabited her nook, becoming as much of a fixture among us as the +Campanile below. She came, like so many, for the cheapness and dignity of +it primarily. Here her little patrimony meant independence, safety from +perfunctory and uncongenial contacts at home, and more positively all +those purtenances of the gentlewoman that she required. But, unlike the +merely thrifty Italianates, she never became blunted by our incessant tea +giving and receiving. With familiarity, the ineffable sweetness of the +country penetrated her with ever-new impressions. She loved the +overlapping blue hills that stretched away endlessly from the rim of her +valley, and the scarred crag that closed it from behind. She loved the +climbing white roads, her chalky brook--sung as a river by the early +poets--with its bordering poplars and willows and its processional +display of violets, anemones, primroses, blueflags, and roses. She loved +even better that constant passing trickle of fine intelligences which +feeds the Arno valley as her brook refreshed its vineyard. The best of +these came gladly to her, for she was an open and a disillusioned spirit, +with something of a man's downrightness under her sensitive appreciation. +Hers was the calm of a temperament fined but not dulled by conformity and +experience. Mrs. Dennis, whose sources of information were excellent, +said it was rather an unhappy girlish affair with an unworthy cousin. +Within the limits of the possible, the Verplancks always married cousins, +and Emma, it was thought, had in her 'teens paid sentimental homage to +the family tradition. In any case she remained surprisingly youthful +under her nearly forty years. Her capacity for intellectual adventure +seemed only to increase as she passed from the first glow to proved +impressions of books, art, persons, and the all-inclusive Tuscan nature. + +Her Stuyvesant Square aunts, who were authorities on self-sacrifice, +agreed that the only sacrifice Emma had made in a thoroughly selfish life +was the purchase of the St. Michael. She had found it, on a visit in +Romagna, in the hands of a noble family who knew its value and needed to +sell it, but dreaded the vulgarity of a transaction through the +antiquaries. To Emma, accordingly, whom they assumed to be rich, they +offered it at a price staggering for her, though still cheap for it. From +the first she had adored it. There had been a swift exchange of +despatches with New York, and the St. Michael went home with her to +Florence. After that adventure the small victoria, the stocky pony, and +the solemn coachman had never reappeared. Emma walked to teas or, when +she must, suffered the promiscuity of the trams. To those of us who knew +the store she set by her equipage its exchange for the St. Michael +indicated a fairly fanatical devotion. To her aunts it meant that she had +spent her principal, which, in their eyes, was an approximation to the +mysterious "sin against the Holy Ghost." + +It was Dennis who speculated most audaciously, and perhaps truly, about +the St. Michael. When he learned that Emma secreted it in her den, where +she rarely admitted anyone, he maintained that it had become her +incorporeal spouse. The daintiness with which it fingered a golden +sword-hilt, as if fearing contamination, symbolised the aloofness of her +spirit. The solitary enjoyment of a great impression of art made her den +a sanctuary, absolving her from commoner or shared pleasures. And in a +manner the Saint was the type of the ultra-virginal quality she had +retained through much contact with books and life. For her to sell the +St. Michael, Dennis felt, would be a sort of vending of her soul, to give +it away in the present instance would imply, he insisted, an instinctive +self-surrender of which he judged her incapable. + +To Crocker's side of the affair we gave very little thought, considering +that he, after all, had created the thrilling importance of the St. +Michael. But our general attitude toward the unwonted was one of +indifference, and Crocker was too unlike us to permit his orbit to be +calculated. The element of foible in him was almost null. None of our +guesses ever stuck to him, and we had grown weary of rediscovering that +anything so simple could also be so impermeable to our ingenuity. In a +word, Crocker's case was as much plainer than Emma's as noonday is than +twilight. When one says that he was born in Boston and from birth +dedicated to the Harvard nine, eleven, or crew--as it might befall; that +he was graduated a candidate for the right clubs, that he took to stocks +so naturally that he quickly and safely increased an ample inherited +fortune, and this without neglecting horse, or rod, or gun; finally that +he carried into maturity a fine boyish ease--when this has been said all +has been told about Morton Crocker except the whimsical chance that made +him an Italianate. + +Some reminiscence of his grand tour had beguiled a tedious convalescence +and, following the gleam for want of more serious occupation, he had set +sail for Naples with a motor-car in the hold. At thirty-three he brought +the keenness of a girl to the galleries, the towns, and the ineffable +whole thing. It was Tuscany that completed his capture. He bought a villa +and, as his strength came back, began to add new vineyards and orchards +to his estate. But this was his play; his serious work became collecting +and more particularly, as has been hinted, the quest of the missing St. +Michael. When he learned, as a man of means soon must, that good pictures +may still be bought in Italy, he promptly succumbed to the covetousness +of the collector, and the motor-car became predatory. Its tonneau had +contained surreptitious Lottos and Carpaccios. Its gyrations became an +object of interest to the Ministry of Public Instruction. Once on +crossing the Alps it had been searched to the linings. While Crocker had +his ups and downs as a collector, from the first his sense of reality +stood him in stead. Being a Bostonian he naturally studied, but even +before he at all knew why, he disregarded the pastiches and forgeries, +and made unhesitatingly for the good panel in an array of rubbish. + +It was this sense for reality that impelled him to settle where the rest +of us merely perched. Fifty _contadini_ tilled his domain and actually +began to earn out the costly improvements he had introduced. His wine and +oil were sought by those who knew and were willing to pay. In the +intervals of the major passion Crocker walked up and down the grassy +roads superintending the larger operations. His muscular and hulking +blondness--he had rowed four years--towered above the dark little men who +served, feared, and worshipped him. Unlike the rest of us who preferred +to live in a delightful Cloud Cuckoo Town, which happened to be Florence +also, he had chosen to take root in Tuscany. + +First he purged his castellated villa of the international abuses it had +undergone for a century. It had hardly regained its fifteenth century +spaciousness and simplicity before it began to fill up again, but this +time with pictures and fittings of the time. In all directions he bought +with enthusiasm, but his real vocation, after the cultivation of Emma's +society, soon came to be the completion of his great and growing +altar-piece by Carlo Crivelli. What is usually a frigid exercise, a mere +ascertainment that the parts of a scattered ancona are at London, Berlin, +St. Petersburg, Boston, etc.--a patient compilation of measurements, +documents and probabilities; what is generally a mere pretext for a solid +article in a heavy journal--or at best a question of pasting photographs +together in the order the artist intended--Crocker converted into an +eager and most practical pursuit. Bit by bit he gradually reconstituted +his Crivelli in its ancient glory of enamel on gold within its ornate +mouldings. The quest prospered capitally until he stuck hopelessly at the +missing St. Michael. As it stood for a couple of years complete except +for the void where the St. Michael should be, the altar-piece represented +less Crocker's abundant resources than his tireless patience and energy. +He had picked up the first fragment, a slender St. Catherine of +Alexandria demurely leaning upon her spiked wheel, at a provincial +antiquary's in Romagna, not far from where the ancona had been impiously +dismembered. Fortunately the original Gothic frame remained to give a +clue to other panels. Next, word of a Crivelli Madonna with Donors at +Christie's took him posthaste to London. Frame, period and measurements +proved that it was the central panel, and the tiny donors, a husband and +wife with a boy and girl, indicated that the wings had contained two +female and two male saints. Between the St. Lucy (which turned up more +than a year later in an un-heard-of Swedish collection, and was had only +by a hard exchange for a rare Lorenzo Monaco and a plausible Fra +Angelico) and the sumptuous St. Augustine, which was brought to the villa +in a barrow by a little dealer, there was a longer interval. Meanwhile +the frame had been reconstructed, and a niche for the missing saint rose +in melancholy emptiness. A little before the sensational _rencontre_ in +Emma's den, the chance of finding a rude pilgrim woodcut on the Quai +Voltaire revealed the saint's identity. This ugly print informed the +faithful that the "prodigious image" of Our Lady existed in the Church of +the Carmelites at Borgo San Liberale. One might distinguish at the +extreme right of the five compartments a willowy St. Michael in armour, +like Chaucer's Squire in a black-letter folio, or if the identification +had been doubtful, there was the name below in all letters. + +When the print was shown to the scheming Harwood over the afternoon +vermouth, he suspended a long discourse on the contemptible fate of being +born an Anglo-Saxon, and it came over him with a blessed shock that Emma +had the missing St. Michael. Penetrated by the joy of the situation, he +hesitated for a moment whether to give the initiative to the man or the +woman. A glance at Crocker's uncompromising sturdiness convinced him that +on that side the situation might be quickly exhausted. Emma he could +trust to do it full justice. Excusing himself abruptly, he made for Frau +Stern's lodgings, and with the taste of Crocker's vermouth still in his +faithless mouth, told her that Emma's Crivelli was no other than the +missing St. Michael. To make matters sure he solemnly bound Frau Stern to +secrecy. That accomplished, he strode whistling down through the purple +twilight to his well-earned _fritto_ at Paoli's. The next day began our +wondering what Emma would do. She did, as is known, a thing that her +simple Knickerbocker ancestresses would have approved--presented Crocker +to the St. Michael and left the decision modestly to the men. Behind the +frankness of her procedure lay, perhaps, a curiosity to see how Crocker +would bear himself in a delicate emergency. It was to be in some fashion +his ordeal. Thus she might at least shake the appalling equanimity with +which he had passed from the stage of comrade to that of suppliant. Not +that she doubted him; nobody did that, but she resented a little in +retrospect his silence on the subject of the great quest. Was it possible +that for these five years he had chatted only about his college pranks, +his fishing trips, his orchards and vineyards, and the views? As she +reviewed their countless walks and teas, it really seemed as if he had +never paid her the compliment of being impersonal. Well, that was ended +now at any rate. A little misgiving filled her that she had never +revealed the presence of the St. Michael to so good a play-fellow. A +delicacy, knowing his incorrigible zeal as a collector, had restrained +her, and then, as Dennis had guessed, her den was her sanctuary, +admission to which implied an intimacy difficult to concede. Whatever the +merits of the case, the rupture had produced in a milieu consumed by the +desire to guess what Emma would do, at least one person who was solely +interested in what Crocker's next move might be. For the first time in a +singularly calculable life he had become an object of genuine curiosity. + +He acted with his usual simplicity. To Emma he wrote a brief note +upbraiding her for fearing the voices of the valley, professing his +eagerness to return when the St. Michael had been put out of the +reckoning, and declaring that if it were not soon, he would willy-nilly +come back and see how things were between them. It was a letter that +wounded Emma, yet somehow warmed her, too, and from its reception we +found her in an unwonted attitude of nonconformity to the verdicts of the +valley. She began to speak up in behalf of this or that human specimen +under our diminishing lenses with the unsubtle and disconcerting +bluntness of Morton Crocker himself. The phenomenon kept alive our waning +interest during nearly a year of waiting. As for Crocker he gave it out +ostentatiously that he was bound for a wonderful Cima in Northumbria and +afterward was to try dry-fly fishing on the Itchen. Beyond that he had no +plans. All this was characteristically the truth; he bought the Cima, +wrote of his baskets to Harwood, but stayed away past his melons, his +grapes and his olives. By early winter we heard of him shooting the moose +in New Brunswick, and later planning a system of art education in the +Massachusetts schools, and it was not till the brisk days of March that +we learned the west wind was bringing him our way again. + +Meanwhile Emma had acquired a few more grey hairs and had resolutely +declined to dispossess herself of the St. Michael. A couple of months +after Crocker's leave-taking, a note had come to her from Crespi, the +unfrocked priest and consummate antiquarian, who, to the point of +improvising a _chef d'oeuvre_, will furnish anything that this gilded +age demands. Crespi most respectfully begged to represent an urgent +client, a Russian prince, who desired a fine Crivelli. Would the most +gentle Miss Verplanck haply part with hers? The price should be what she +chose to name. It was no question of money, but of obliging a client +whom Crespi could ill afford to disappoint. Emma curtly declined the +offer. The St. Michael was valued for personal reasons and was not for +sale. Six weeks later came a more insidious suggestion. The Director of +the Uffizi, learning that she possessed a masterpiece of a school +sparsely represented in the first Italian gallery, pleading that such an +object should not pass from Italy, and representing a number of generous +art-lovers who desired to add it to the collections under his care, made +the following offer, trusting, however, not to any pecuniary inducement +but to her loyalty as an honorary citizen of Florence. The price named +was something less than the London value, but its acceptance would have +perpetually endowed the victoria, and perhaps--. If the malicious +Harwood had not passed the word that the offer was a ruse of the wily +Crocker, we all believed that she would have accepted. Indeed, we +regretted her obduracy. It would have been such a capital way out, with +no sacrifice of her scruples nor waiver of our collective +impressiveness. So Harwood came in for mild reprehension, the Sage +Dennis remarking with some asperity that when the gods have provided us +with farces, comedies, and tragedies in from one to five acts it is +unseemly to string them out to six or seven. + +Early March, then, saw the deadlock unbroken. The St. Michael had not +been dislodged. Emma still was unwavering so far as we knew. We were +unable, had we willed, to divest ourselves of our deterrent attributes. +But the situation had changed to this extent that Crocker was said to be +on his way down to oversee a new system of spring tillage in person. + +Emma took his approach with something between terror and an unwonted +resignation. From the day when he had planted himself firmly beside her +fireplace with a boyish wonder at finding himself so much at home, he had +represented the incalculable in her carefully planned life. Declining to +accept the attitude of other people toward her, he had almost upset her +attitude toward herself. He was the first man since the scapegrace cousin +who had neither feared nor yet provoked her sharp tongue. While he +relished her wit, it had always been with an unspoken deprecation of its +cutting edge. He gave her a queer feeling of having allowances made for +her--a condescension that in anybody but this big, likable boy she would +have requited with sarcasm. But against him the _cheveux de frise_ she +successfully presented to the world seemed of no avail. He knew it was +not timber but twigs, and that at worst one was scratched and not +impaled. Day by day she watched the cropping of the long line of flaming +willow plumes that escorted her brook toward the level. The line dwindled +as the shorn pollards gave up their withes to bind the vines to the dwarf +maples. She felt the miles between herself and Crocker lessening, and (at +rare moments) her scruples ready to be garnered for some sweet and +ill-defined but surely serviceable use. But she would not have been Emma +Verplanck if the manner of her not impossible surrender had not troubled +her more than the act itself. Any lack of tact on the part of the +husbandman might still spoil things. She had a whimsical sense that any +one of the flaming willows might refuse its contribution to the vineyard +should the pruner approach with anything short of a persuasive "_con +permesso_." + +Crocker's "by your leave" was so far from persuasive that it left her +with a panicky desire to run away--again a new sensation. He wrote: + +"DEAR EMMA-- + +"We have had an endless year to think it over, and the only change on my +side is that I need you more than ever. I will go away for real reasons, +for your reasons, but for no others. If it is only their talk that +separates us, their talk has had twelve good months and shall have no +more. I must see you. May I come tomorrow at the old hour? + +"As always yours, + +"MORTON CROCKER." + +Something between wrath and dismay was the result of this challenge. She +sat down to answer him according to his impudence, and the words would +not come. The greatness of the required sacrifice came over her and +therewith the desire to temporise. The voice of many Knickerbocker +ancestresses spoke in her, and between herself and a real emergency she +interposed the impenetrable buckler of a conventionality. She wrote: + +"PENSIOIN SCHALCK, Bad Weisstein, Austrian Tyrol. + +"MY DEAR CROCKER-- + +"It would be pleasant to see you and talk over your trip, but you see by +this address it is for the present impossible. As always, + +"Cordially yours, + +"EMMA VERPLANCK." + +When Crocker found Emma's valley as effectually barred as if a battery +guarded the approaches, he gave way to a deep resentment. Instinctively +hating anything like a trick, to be tricked by Emma at this point was +intolerable. His gloom was such that he confided to the malicious Harwood +a profound disgust with the irreality of the life Italianate. The +_podere_ should be sold as soon as it could be put in order. Such +pictures as the Italian Government coveted, it should keep, the rest +should go to the Museum at Boston. He himself would grow orange trees in +North Cuba where there were things to shoot and, thank heaven, no +civilisation. Harwood came breathlessly to Dennis's with the tale, +gloating openly that there was to be a seventh act if not an eighth. + +A long hard day with his bailiff and the peasants restored Crocker's +poise. He looked for the hundredth time over into Emma's valley and +divined her attitude. Dreading an interview, she had left the way open to +parley. She virtually pleaded for a delay. It was a new and, in a way, +delightful sensation to be feared. For the first time in any human +relation he exploited a personal advantage and wrote, addressing Bad +Weisstein: + +"DEAREST EMMA-- + +"You have wanted a delay. Well, you have it--probably a week already. +Make the most of it, for two weeks from this date--I give you time to +recover from your journey--I am coming for tea in the old way. Meanwhile +you can hardly imagine the impatience of + +"Yours more than ever, + +"MORTON CROCKER." + +Whether Crocker or Emma was more miserable during the fortnight even +Dennis could not have told. But there was in his woe something of the +sublime stolidity of the man who is going to stand up to be shot or +reprieved, whereas she suffered the uncertainty of the soldier who has +been drawn to make up the "firing party" for a comrade. She feared that +she would not have courage enough to despatch him, and then she feared +she would. Meantime the days passed, and she woke up one morning with an +odd little shiver reminding her that it was no longer possible to get a +note to him by way of Bad Weisstein. Nor had she the heart to move to a +nearer coign of constructive absence. Of half measures she was, after +all, a foe. Her determination to send Crocker away daily increased, and +the implacable St. Michael seemed to command that course. "You are not +for him. You represent a whole artificial world in which he cannot +breathe. I, the finest incarnation of the most exquisite mannerism of a +bygone time, am your spiritual spouse, and you may not lightly renounce +me. You have devoted yourself to graceful irrealities and must now abide +by your choice." Thus the St. Michael had spoken in a dream in the +troubled hours before daybreak, and when Emma went to her den late the +next morning she confronted him and admitted, "You are right, St. +Michael. It's all true." That afternoon Crocker was coming for tea, and +if her New York aunts could have known, even they would have granted +that, for the second time in a thoroughly selfish life, Emma was +displaying capacities for self-sacrifice. + +As Emma and Crocker shook hands that afternoon, one might see that both +had aged a little, but he most. Something of the appealing boyishness +had gone out of his eyes. He had become her contemporary. A certain +moral advantage, too, had passed to his side and she, whose prerogative +it had been to take the leading part, now waited for him to begin. As +if on honour to do nothing abruptly, he sketched his year for her--his +sports and committees, his kinsfolk and hers; their fresh, +invigorating, half-made land. She listened almost in silence until he +turned to her and said: + +"With me, Emma, it is and always will be the same. You know that. Has +anything changed with you?" + +"I don't think so, Crocker. How can I tell? I'm glad you're here, in +spite of the shabby trick I've played you. Let me say just that I'm +heartily glad to see an old friend." + +"No, I must have more than that or less. I want much more than that." + +"You want too much. You want more than I can give to anybody. O! Why +can't you see it all? You are alive, even here in Florence but, I, I am +no longer a real person that can love or be loved. Can't you see that I +am only a sensibility that absorbs the sweetness of this valley, a mere +bundle of scruples and fears, a weather-cock veering with the talk of +the rest of them? Think of that and take back what you have thought +about me." + +"Emma, you admit a need, and that is very sweet to me. You want some one +to strengthen you against all this that you call the valley. Mightn't +that helper be I?" + +"You shan't be committed to anything so hopeless." + +"It isn't as hopeless as it seems. The strength of the valley is only in +its weakness, and we shall be strong together." + +"I have forgotten how to be strong, for years I have only been clever." + +"You'd be dull enough with me as you well know. I can do that for +both. But don't talk as if there were some fate between us. There can +be none except your indifference, and I believe you do care a little +and will more." + +"Of course, I care, Crocker, but not as you wish. You have refreshed me +in this opiate air. You have represented the real country I have +exchanged for this illusion, the real life I might have lived had I been +braver or more fortunate. But you can have no part in what I have come to +be. Go, for both our sakes." + +"Not for any such reason. I can't surrender my happiness for a phrase; I +can't leave you to these delusions about yourself." + +"It is no delusion; I wish it were. It's in my blood and breeding. For +generations my people have lived the unreal life. I am the fine flower of +my race, and in coming to this valley of dreams and this no-life I am +merely fulfilling a destiny--a fate, as you say--and coming to my own." + +"But Emma, the worthy Verplancks?" + +"No, listen to me. For generations the Verplancks have been what people +expected them to be, incarnate formulas of etiquette and timid living. +They took their colour from the gossiping society in which they seemed to +live. They prudently married other Verplancks, cousins or cousins' +cousins. They hoarded their little fortunes without increasing them, and +if what they called the rabble had not peopled New York and raised the +price of land, which my people were merely too stolid to sell, we should +long ago have gone under in penury. We have led nobody and made nothing, +but have been maintained by stronger forces and persons, toward whom we +have always taken the air of doing a favour. That mistake at least I +shall not make with you, Crocker. I want you to feel the full nullity of +me. As I see you now I have a twinge because my great grandfather, who +was a small banker, would have called yours, who was a farmer--you see I +have looked you up--not 'Mister' but 'My Good Man.'" + +For a moment she paused, and Crocker groped for a reply. "All this may be +true, Emma," he said at last, "and yet mean very little to you and me. +Besides, I'm quite willing you should call me your Good Man. In fact, I'd +rather like it." + +"You must take me seriously--you shall. I cannot marry. I'm married +already. Dennis says I am. Come and see my bridegroom." And she fairly +dragged the bewildered Crocker into her den and set him once more before +the missing St. Michael. + +"There he is, an incarnated weakness and fastidiousness. His hand is too +delicate to draw his own sword. If he really cast out Satan, it must have +been by merely staring him down. His helmet rests with no weight upon his +curled and perfumed locks--his buckles are soft gold where iron should +be. He represents the dull, collective, aristocratic intolerance of +Heaven for the only individualist it ever managed to produce. He pretends +to be a warrior and is as feminine as your St. Catherine. He is the +imperturbable champion of celestial good form, and Dennis, who sees +through things, says he is my spiritual husband. He is the weakest of the +weak and is too strong for you, Crocker." + +For a space that seemed minutes they faced each other, Emma excited, with +a diffused indignation that defied impartially the missing St. Michael +and the puzzled man before her; Crocker with a perplexity that renewed +the old boyish expression in his eyes. He seemed to be thinking, and, as +he thought, the tension of Emma's attitude relaxed, she forgot to look at +the St. Michael and wondered at the even, steady patience of the big +likable boy she was dismissing. She pitied him in advance for the futile +argument he must be revolving. She had despatched him as in duty bound +and was both sorry and glad. + +But his counterplea when it came was of a disconcerting briefness and +potency. He said very slowly, "Yes, I see it all. There is your spiritual +husband; there are they" (indicating the valley with a sweep of a big +hand), "and there are you, Emma, caught in a web of baffling and false +ideas; and here am I, a real man who loves you, fearing neither the St. +Michael nor them" (another gesture) "nor your doubts. I set myself, +Morton Crocker, your lover, against them all and take my own so." + +There was a frightened second in which his sturdy arms closed about her. +There was a little shudder, as the same big hand that had defied the +valley sought her head and pressed it to his shoulder. When Emma at last +looked up the mockery she always carried in her eyes had given place to a +new serenity, and her hand reached up timidly for his. + +Crocker and Emma--we now instinctively gave him the precedence--were +inconsiderate enough to remove themselves without making clear the fate +of the no longer missing St. Michael. We still speculated indolently as +to the nature of the afterpiece in which we assumed this ex-hero of our +comedy might yet appear. Then we learned that Emma was to be married +without delay from the stone manor house under the Taconics where her +people had dwelt since patroon days. Only a handful of friends with +Crocker's nearest kin and her inevitable New York aunts were to be +present. These venerable ladies had admitted that in marrying, even +opulently, out of the family, Emma had once more shown velleities of +self-sacrifice. Then we heard of Crocker and Emma on his boat along the +coast "Down East." Later we were shocked by rumours of a canoe trip +through Canadian waterways. Hereupon the usually benevolent Dennis +protested as he glanced approvingly at the well-kept Tuscan landscape. +"Crocker needn't rub it in," he opined. "Why, it's the same scrubby +spruce tree from the Plains of Abraham to James's Bay-and Emma, who hated +being bored! Why, it's marriage by capture; it's barbaric." "It's worse; +it's rheumatic," shuddered Harwood as he declined Marsala and took +whisky. "But he'll have to bring her back to civilisation some time, if +only to hospital. We shall have her again." "He will bring her back, but +we shall never have her again," said Dennis solemnly. "She has renounced +us and all our works." "Renouncing our works isn't so difficult," smiled +Mrs. Dennis, and then the talk drifted elsewhere, to new Emmas who were +just beginning to eat the Tuscan lotus. + +Before the year had turned to June again we had nearly forgotten our +runaways, when a quite unusual activity about her villa and Crocker's +warned us that they were coming back. Harwood had seen in transit a box +which he thought corresponded to the St. Michael's stature, but was not +sure. In a few days came a circular note from Crocker through Dennis +saying that they were fairly settled and he glad to see any or all of +us. She, however, was still fatigued by the journey and must for a time +keep her room. + +Harwood straightway volunteered to undertake the preliminary +reconnaissance, while Frau Stern engaged to penetrate to Emma herself. + +On a beatific afternoon we sat in council on Dennis's terrace awaiting +the envoys. Below, the misty plain rose on and on till it gathered into +an amber surge in Monte Morello and rippled away again through the +Fiesolan hills. Nearer, torrid bell-towers pierced the shimmering reek, +like stakes in a sweltering lagoon. In the centre of all, the great dome +swam lightly, a gigantic celestial buoy in a vaporous sea. The spell that +bound us all was doubly potent that day. The sense of a continuous life +that had made the dome and the belfries an inevitable emanation from the +clean crumbling earth, lulled us all, and we hardly stirred when Harwood +bustled in, saying, "Cheer up. I have seen Crocker, and it isn't there." +"You mean," said the cautious Dennis, "that Crocker still possesses only +the hole, aperture, frame, or niche that the missing St. Michael may yet +adorn." "I only know that it isn't there now," growled Harwood. "I deal +merely in facts, but you may get theories, if you must have them, from +Frau Stern, who heroically forced her way to Emma over Crocker's +prostrate form." + +As he spoke we heard Frau Stern's timid, well-meaning ring, and in a +moment her smile filled the archway. + +"We don't need to ask if you have news," cried Mrs. Dennis from afar. + +"If I haf news. Guess what it is. It is too lovely. You cannot think? +Well, there will be a baby next autumn, what you call it?" "Michaelmas, I +suppose," grunted Harwood through his pipe-smoke and subsided into +indifference. + +"All this is most charming and interesting, Frau Stern," expostulated +Dennis, "but, as our enthusiastic friend Harwood delicately hints, +what we really let you go for was to locate the Missing St. Michael." +"I haf almost forgot that," she apologised as she nibbled her +_brioche_, "Emma was so happy. But for the bothersome St. Michael +there is no change. I saw it in what she calls her new den. She +laughed to me and said, 'I cannot let him have it, you see, you would +all say he married me for it.'" + +"Bravo!" shouted Dennis and Harwood in unison, and the Sage added with +unction, "So she has not been able to renounce us utterly." + +"It is not now for long," rejoined Frau Stern, "it is only to the time we +haf said." "Michaelmas," repeated Harwood disgustedly. + +"Yes, that is it," she pursued tranquilly, "Emma told me in confidence, +'To Crocker I cannot give it because of you all, but to our child I may, +and it shall do with it what it will.' Now do you prevail, Misters Dennis +and Harwood?" + +"We are a bit downcast but not discomfited," acknowledged Dennis, +while Harwood remained glumly within his smoke. "Emma has escaped us, +but she still pays us the tribute of a subterfuge. It is enough, we +will forgive her, even if her way lies from us dozers here. For to-day +the same sunshine drenches her and us. It is a bond. Let us enjoy it +while we may." + + + + +THE LUSTRED POTS + + +"Haul away, Sam. This is the real thing" came from the depths of the +well. Sam Cleghorn stumbled in the gloom towards the windlass, avoiding +on the way a rude handpump and two heaps of dirt and broken pottery that +sloped threateningly upon the low curb, where balanced a perforated disc +of marble, the great bottom-stone of the well. All these properties +caught a little light from a beam that came through a slit in the wall, +casting most of its uncertain bloom up into a low groined vault, the +heavy round arches of which were separated from squat piers by clumsy +brackets. Outside at the level of the reticulated stone floor one could +hear the rushing of a river. As Cleghorn leaned over the well-mouth +before seizing the crank, a glimmer of yellow light flooded his face and +again came up the hollow impatient cry, "Haul away, Sam. This lot's a +good one, and it's mine." Replying "All right, Dick," Cleghorn bent to +the crank. With much creaking the coils crept along the spindle and the +light burden began to rise jerkily. + + * * * * * + +Although neither the well nor the vaulted cellar chamber belonged to Sam +Cleghorn or to Dick Webb, their presence and actions there were not +surreptitious. Stanton Mayhew, who ignorantly owned the well, had given +them plenary permission to pump and dig, mildly pitying their apparent +lunacy. The palace above was his in virtue of his sensible preference for +living twice as well on the Arno for half the cost on the Hudson. This +rule of two, like so many foreign residents of Florence, he +unquestioningly obeyed, and it constituted practically the whole of his +philosophy and maxims. Hence he was not the man to prize a Tuscan well +dug in the fourteenth century, cleaned perhaps never, and gradually +filled to the brim with what the forwardlooking past benightedly took for +rubbish. So when Cleghorn and Webb made him an overture for the right to +clean the well, he had genially replied, "Why, go ahead, boys, and enjoy +yourselves. It's you who ought to be paid, but for your healths' sake you +really ought to wait till I've punched some decent windows through that +damp cellar wall and let the air in." + +If neither Sam nor Dick waited even a day, it was because each was a bit +afraid that the other would begin alone. College mates, collectors both, +they were fast friends in a way and rivals beyond dispute. Their common +taste for antiquity and adequacy of means had made their graduate course +chiefly one of travel. And when travel wore out its novelty they +naturally settled in the easiest, as the least exacting, European city, +occupying two halves of one floor in the same palace. Their apartments +started full, and quickly overflowed with objects of curiosity and +art--all old, for their knowledge was considerable; some fine, for +neither was without taste. But taste neither had in any austere sense, +for they collected art much as a dredge collects marine specimens. +Nothing came amiss to them. Wood, ivory, silver, bronze, marble, +plaster--they repudiated no material or period. Stuffs, glass, pictures, +porcelains, potteries--it was all one to them so the object were old and +rare. Inevitably, then, they had come to primitive pots, and +simultaneously, for they not only watched each other closely, but almost +read each other's minds. And when they came to primitive pots it was +certain that they would beg, borrow, or steal a well, since in old wells, +and cisterns, besides less mentionable places, primitive pots abide. Many +pots were there, as we shall see, from the first, and the maids and +children of the centuries, by way of concealing breakages, have usually +made notable secondary contributions. So when amiable Stanton Mayhew +freely conceded a most ancient well to Cleghorn and Webb, it was like +receiving Pandora's box, with the difference that the well might safely +be opened. + +Here had ensued a most delicate negotiation concerning the division of +the spoil. A mathematical partition of the fragmentary material that an +old Italian well contains is extremely difficult if at all possible. +After much debate it was agreed that after they struck pay dirt, each +should dig in turn, each to have the bucketful that came under his trowel +or fingers. Scattered fragments of the same pot and other complications +were to be adjudicated by Mayhew, whose ignorance and disinterestedness +were safe to assume. But the well gave up quantities of noncontentious +matter before Mayhew's services were required. The first five feet had +revealed nothing but fragments of kitchen pottery of our time and a +fairly perfect hoopskirt of Garibaldian date. A little lower had emerged +the skeleton of a cat. Similar tragedies were in evidence, on an average, +at every quarter century of depth. Between the second and third cat, lay +Ginori imitations of Sevres and Wedgewood, scraps too of gilded +glass--the earnest of better things below. Five cats down, some +eighteenth-century apothecary pots, damaged but amenable to repair, had +inaugurated the alternation of buckets under the agreement. It were +tedious to follow the ascending scale of excellence as the digging went +deeper. Enough to say that below the mixed ingredients and the nethermost +cat they found a homogeneous layer of beautiful fourteenth-century +shards, affording many buckets full, and promising delicate adjudication +to the referee. + +Before the lustred pots themselves shed a baleful gleam over this +narrative, something should obviously be said about Italian wells and why +they contain pots. Beyond those casually acquired from careless or +secretive servants, there is, if the well be old and of good make, a +certain number of intact pieces put in to serve as a filter. Often a +group of pitchers or similar crocks is imprisoned between the two +bottom-stones. Sometimes there are two such layers. After this filter had +been made there was frequently scattered a bushel or more of small shards +above. From these by careful sorting complete or nearly complete pieces +may be recovered. Through all this mass of whole or broken pottery the +water had to find its way up, for the cement sides of an Italian well are +watertight. Thus, barring the indiscretions of housemaids and cats, the +early Italians drank pure water. + +Naturally Cleghorn and Webb were conversant with these refinements of +mediaeval hydraulics. In fact when Webb, the sturdier of the two, hauled +up the bottom-stone all dripping, Cleghorn promptly declared that in the +sense of the contract it was a bucketful; hence his first go at the now +uncovered pots. So heated grew the debate, that finally the grimy +excavators climbed to the upper air and appealed to Mayhew, who promptly +denied the quibble, deciding that stones and pots were not +interchangeable. The diversion drew attention from the great perforated +disc itself, and as the sullen Cleghorn let the exultant Webb down upon +the ancient pots, it lay badly bestowed near the curb on the crumbling +slope of a rubbish heap. And now Cleghorn with bitterness of heart was +reeling up Webb's find. As the coils broadened on the windlass a small +iron bucket rose above the parapet, brimming with something that glinted +metallically under the dirt. Beside the bucket flapped the rude swing in +which the entrances and exits of the partners were made. As Cleghorn +grasped the bail and swung the precious cargo clear of the well, came up +once more the voice of Webb: "Hustle, Old Man, I'm keen to see them, they +feel good." + +Good they were indeed. Cleghorn, who for fifteen years had haunted shops +and museums had never seen the like in equal compass. As he took them +cautiously one by one and held them high in the uncertain light, each +revealed a desirable point. Here was a coat of arms, a date, the initial +of an owner. There were grotesque birds and beasts. Differing in form and +colour, the entire lot agreed in possessing that dull early Italian +lustre, which perhaps accidental and less distinguished than that of +Spain, is even dearer in a collector's eyes. They hinted of all enamelled +things that come out of the East--of the peacock reflections of the tiles +of Damascus and Cordova, of the franker polychromy of Rhodian kilns, of +the subtler bloom of the dishes of Moorish Spain, of the brassier glazes +of Minorca and Sicily--all these things lay enticingly in epitome in +these lustred Italian pots, as they glimmered with a furtive splendour. +Yes, they were a good lot, thought Cleghorn as he placed them reverently +on the flagging. It was the find of a lifetime. A man with nothing else +in his cupboard must be mentioned respectfully among collectors from Dan +to Beersheba. + +Again the impatient voice of Webb below: "Hurry up, I say. It's getting +cold: the water is gaining." + +"All right," called Cleghorn, giving a few strokes of the pump, but never +taking his eyes from the lustred pots. Then as if by a sudden inspiration +he asked, "Any more in that lot, Dick?" + +"Not a one," cried Webb jubilantly, "there was just a bucketful and a +squeeze at that. But there may be others beneath. There's another +bottom-stone, and it's your next turn. But why don't you hurry up?" + +A scowl passed over Cleghorn's thin face set unswervingly towards the +pots. They glimmered in the shadow with an unholy phosphorescence--green, +blue, carmine, strange purplish browns. So the glittering coils of the +serpent may have bewildered our first Mother. There were other pots +below, reflected Cleghorn, yes, but there never could be again such a +batch as these. And then his dazed eye for a second left the fascinating +pots, and mechanically searched the vaulted chamber. To his excited gaze +the rubbish heaps centring about the curb seemed already in movement. The +massive bottom-stone overhung the parapet, resting only on loose dirt and +shards. With horror he noted that a breath might send it down. If it +slipped, whose were the lustred pots? Against his will the phrase said +itself over and over again throbbingly behind his eyes, and again he +forgot everything in the vision of the lustred pots. + +"Damn it, hurry up," came thunderously from below. Cleghorn stumbled with +a curious hesitation between the crank and the poised bottom-stone. The +clumsy movement loosened a handful of shards which went clattering down; +the great stone slid, caught on the parapet, and hung once more in +uncertain oscillation. Profanity unrestrained transpired from the mouth +of the well. + +It was a tremulous Cleghorn that sent down the bucket and reeled up an +irate and vociferous Webb. Words abounded without explanations, and blows +seemed possible, when Cleghorn, as it were apologetically raised a +pitcher and a bowl into the shaft of light that came through the +oubliette. "They're all like that, Dick," he protested. "It's your lucky +day. I congratulate you." It was a silenced and mollified Webb that +clutched at the pots, and noted wisely that every one had been brushed by +the peacock's tail. With a kind of pity at last he turned to the +deprecating Cleghorn and said, "That was an awkward business of yours +about the shards, and the bottom-stone there is a pretty sight for a man +who left it so and went down to work under it, but one couldn't wait for +such pots as these. On my soul, Old Man, if you had dumped it all down on +me I could hardly have blamed you." + +Welcomed with a loud laugh by its maker, the joke jarred on Cleghorn, who +merely answered, "It's very good of you, Dick, to say so." + +"But there may be quite as good ones below," pursued Webb genially. +"We'll rest up a bit and then you have your go and finish the job." + +"If you don't mind, Dick, I'd rather not," was the embarrassed answer. +"The fact is I'm too nervous and absentminded for this work." He looked +down into the blackness with a shudder and said. "No, I don't want to go +down there again. One can't tell what might happen there." + +"Then you've dropped your nerve. Sorry for it," came from a baffled and +disgusted partner, but as he spoke a smile drew across the broad, amiable +face, and he added insinuatingly, "Then the rest are mine, Old Man?" + +"Yes they're yours fast enough." + +"It's mighty good of you, Sam. I won't forget it. I'll share sometime on +a good thing like this. I'm all ready to go down again when you've had a +smoke. Only we'll set that stone right and you'll be more careful about +the shards." + +"If you'll excuse me, Dick, I'd rather not." Cleghorn looked at his +watch. "You see I ought to be out of these duds already. I have a very +particular tea outside. Didn't I tell you about it? I'll send Mayhew +down to help." + +"All right, just as you please," was the indifferent reply. But as +Cleghorn turned up the narrow steps, Webb muttered perplexedly, "To funk +at this point and for a tea! The man is touched or in love." + + * * * * * + +Webb with Mayhew's dispassionate aid made a considerable haul below the +second stone, though in truth there was nothing there to compare with the +first lot. The batch of lustred pots is the pride of his eye, and when it +is suggested that he values them highly he answers, "Well rather, they're +pretty good, you know, and then they nearly cost me a broken head. I was +so keen for them that I set a big stone where it might easily have +tumbled on me." Then the rest of the anecdote, which Cleghorn, in whose +presence it frequently is told, never hears with complete equanimity. The +causes of his uneasiness I do not engage to analyse, for, unlike Webb, +Cleghorn is imaginative and difficult. + + + + +THE BALAKLAVA CORONAL + + +As the dinner wore on endlessly, I consoled myself by the thought of the +Balaklava Coronal. There in the toastmaster's seat was Morrison who had +bought it, at my right loomed Vogelstein who had sold it, far across, +towards the foot of the board, sat the critic Brush in whose presence I +understood the infamous sale had been made. I missed only Sarafoff, the +marvellous peasant-silversmith, who wrought the coronal in his prison +workshop in the Viennese ghetto. Now there was nothing strange about +Vogelstein's selling it, nor yet about Morrison's buying it; only the +making of it by the illiterate Sarafoff and the silence of Brush when it +was sold required explanation. Vogelstein, who breathed heavily beside +me, undoubtedly held the secret. I felt so hopeful that time and the +champagne which we were drinking for the sake of art would give him to me +that I took no pains meanwhile to disturb his elaborate indifference to +my presence. + +Between him and me little love was lost. As the editor of a moneylosing +art magazine in the interior, it was my duty occasionally to visit his +galleries. After such visits the remnant of my New England conscience +usually forced me to diminish or actually to spoil many a sale of the +dubious or merely fashionable antiquities in which he dealt. But in the +main my power to harm him was slight. He held in a knowing grip the +strings of his patrons' vanity and taste. So he regarded me with +something between scorn and uneasiness--as a pachyderm might take a +predatory bee. For the sake of my steady production of the honey of free +advertising he forgave a sting from which he was after all immune. At the +beginning of the dinner he had greeted me with what was meant for a +civility and then had relapsed into silence. To escape the loquacity of +my other neighbour I gave myself to parallel observation of Vogelstein +and Morrison--the great dealer and his greater customer. + +Both plainly belonged to the same species and it pleased my whim to +symbolise them as a mastodon and a rogue elephant. Morrison, the dreaded +agent and operator, was unquestionably the finer creature. He moved more +precisely and with a sense of wieldy power. His phrases cut where +Vogelstein's merely smote. His bigness had something genial about it. He +looked the amateur, and indeed does not the rogue elephant trample down +villages chiefly for the joy of the affray? One felt that something more +than Morrison's preposterous winnings had been involved in the clashes of +railroads and cataclysms on the exchange which had for years past been +his major recreation. Vogelstein, though evidently of coarser fibre, +belonged to the same formidable breed. The mastodon, we must suppose, +lacked much of the finesse of the rogue elephant of later evolution. And +Vogelstein's Semitism was of the archaic, potent, monumental type. His +abundant fat looked hard. For all the sagging double chin, his jaw +retained the character of a clamp. Among the strong race of art dealers +he was feared. Whole collections not single objects were his quarry. He +paid lavishly, foolishly, counting as confidently on the ignorance and +vanity of his clients, as ever Morrison upon the brute expansion of the +national wealth. But Vogelstein looked and was as completely the +professional as Morrison the amateur. There remained this essential +difference that if nothing could be too big to stagger Vogelstein, +nothing likewise could be too small to deter him. I knew his shop, or +rather his palace, and had observed the relish with which he could shame +a timorous art student into giving three prices for a print. It afforded +him no more pleasure, one could surmise, to impose a false Rembrandt at +six figures upon a wavering iron-master, or, indeed to unload an historic +but rather worthless collection upon Morrison himself. For Vogelstein was +after all of primitive stamp, to wit the militant publican. So he took +toll and plenty, it mattered little where or whence. + +To Morrison and Vogelstein no better foil could be imagined than Brush. +If they recalled the tusked monsters that charged in the van of Asiatic +armies, his analogue was the desert horse. Small, spare, sensitive, shy, +his every posture suggested race, training, spirit, and docility. His +_flair_ for classical art had become proverbial. By mere touch he +detected those remarkable counterfeits of Syracusan coins. It was he who +segregated the Renaissance intaglios at Bloomsbury only the winter before +he exposed the composite figurines at Berlin. To him the Balaklava +Coronal must have proclaimed its nullity as far as its red gold could be +seen. For that matter the coronal was a bye-word, and why not? The same +dealers who had landed the more famous Tiara in the Louvre had the +selling of it. The greater museums in Europe and America had refused it +at a bargain. On Fifth Avenue and the Rue Lafitte all the dealers were +joking about the Balaklava Coronal. The name of Sarafoff, its maker, had +even become accepted slang. For a season we "Sarafoffed" our intimates +instead of hoaxing them. And in the face of all this Vogelstein had sold +the Coronal to Morrison under Brush's very nose. It seemed so wholly +incredible that I began counting Vogelstein's heavy respirations, to make +sure I was really awake. + +Then the pale, tense mask of Brush--so isolated in the apoplectic row +across the table--calmed me. That he was Vogelstein's or anyone's tool +was unthinkable. Mercenary suspicions, to be sure, had been put about, +but those who knew him merely laughed at such a notion. Vogelstein also +laughed, shaking volcanically within, whenever the Coronal, the +genuineness of which he still maintained, was mentioned. And he always +treated Brush with a curious and almost tender condescension, much in +fact as the mastodon might have regarded that fragile ancestor of the +horse, the five-toed protohippos. + +I have neglected to explain that the occasion which brought me at one +table with such major celebrities as Morrison, Vogelstein, and Brush was +a public dinner in behalf of civic art. For just as we find the celestial +compromised by the naughty Aphrodite, so we distinguish two antithetical +sorts of art. There is a bad private art which is produced for dealers +and millionaires and takes care of itself, and there is a virtuous public +art which we hope to have some day and meanwhile has to be taken care of +by special societies. It was one of these that was now dining for the +good of the cause. Under the benevolent eye of Morrison, our acting +president, we had put pompano upon a soup underlaid with oysters, and +then a larded fillet upon some casual tidbit of terrapins. Whereupon a +frozen punch. Thus courage was gained, the consecrated sequence of +sherry, hock, claret and champagne being absolved, for the proper +discussion of woodcock in the red with a famous old burgundy--Morrison's +personal compliment to the apostolate of civic art. + +At the dessert, Morrison himself spoke a few words. The little speech +came brusquely from him, and no one who knew his rapacity for the +beautiful could doubt his faith in the universal superlatives he now +advocated. Our art, he held, must weigh with our mills and railroads, +else our life is out of balance. We never grudged millions to burrow +beneath New York for light, or for drink or speed, why then should we +grudge them for the beautiful inutilities that might make the surface of +the city splendid. A craving for fine objects was his own dearest +emotion, he wanted to see cities, states, and the nation ready to spend +with equal fervour. It all came apparently to a matter of spending. +Morrison entertained no doubt that an imperious demand would create an +abundant supply of what he called the best art. Whether we were to +transport bodily the great monuments of Europe to America, or merely were +to supply beauty off our indigenous bat, was not clear from Morrison's +address, and possibly was not wholly so in his own mind. But the talk was +solid and forceful, and I could hear Vogelstein grunt with inward joy +when he contemplated the city, the state, and the nation in their +predicted rôle as customers. I too felt that a real if an incoherent +voice had spoken, and that if civic art were indeed to come, it would be +through such neo-Roman visionaries as Morrison. + +Then the mood changed and a willowy, hirsute, and earnest reviver of +tapestry weaving rose and pleaded for the "City Beautiful," castigating +the Philistine the while, and looking forward to a time when "the pomp, +and chronicle of our time should be splendidly committed to illumined +window and pictured wall," with some slight allusion to "those ancient +webs through which the Middle Ages still speak glowingly to us." + +About midway in the speech Morrison, who had another public dinner down +the avenue slipped away. As he nodded "See you later perhaps" I marked +the adoring eye and smile of Vogelstein, and then the great folds settled +back into their places about his mouth and my neighbour once more gave an +uneasy attention to the weaver of beautiful phrases, meanwhile drinking +repeated glasses of burgundy. Soon his huge form heaved with an +inarticulate discontent, and as the speaker sat down amid perfunctory +applause Vogelstein snorted twice into the air. + +"It is rather absurd, as you say," I ventured. + +"It's sickening," wheezed Vogelstein. "Why can't he sell his tapestries +without all that talk?" + +"Oh, he enjoys the talk and probably believes it, and you and I do better +after all to hear his talk than to see his tapestries." A mastodonic +chuckle welcomed this mild sally. The burgundy was taking effect. + +As the diners rose stiffly or alertly, according to their several grades +of repletion, Vogelstein attached himself to me almost affectionately. +"Do stop in the café and talk to me," he urged. "It's queer, here are a +lot of my customers, some of my artists, besides you literary chaps, and +except Morrison, nobody wants to talk to me. Morrison and I, we +understand each other. It's early yet. Come along with me and talk. I've +wanted to talk to you for a long time, but always was too busy in my +place. You see you writers don't buy, in fact those that know almost +never do. It's really queer." + +Knowing the might of burgundy when a due foundation of champagne has been +laid, I hardly took this effusion as personal to myself, but I also saw +no reason, too, why I should not profit by the occasion. "I'll gladly +chat with you, Mr. Vogelstein," I answered, "but you must let me choose +the subject. We will talk about the Balaklava Coronal." + +As he led me into the elevator by the arm he whispered "All right, Old +Man, but why? You know just as much as I about it." + +There was no chance to reply until he had selected his table and ordered +two Scotches and soda. "Yes, I know something about it," I said at last; +"everyone does apparently except Morrison. I know that Sarafoff made the +Coronal, but I don't know who taught him how to make it, nor yet how +Morrison was idiot enough to buy it, when anybody could have told him +what it was, nor yet how Brush came to let it be sold. These are the +interesting parts of the story, and I'll drink no drink of yours unless +you tell." + +At the mention of idiocy in connection with Morrison Vogelstein shuddered +and raised a massive deprecating hand. The gesture was arrested by the +entrance of Brush, who with a slight nod to us passed to a distant +corner. Suddenly Vogelstein's expression had become one beaming, +condescending paternalism. "Good man but impracticable," he muttered. +"Thinks knowing it is everything. Knowing it is something, but selling it +is the real thing. Now I hardly know at all, not a tenth as much as +Brush, not a half as much as you even, but so long as I can sell, I don't +really care to know. What's the use?" + +"But you did know about the Balaklava Coronal and you sold it too," I +interrupted. "How did you dare?" + +"That's my secret--but here are our drinks. A bargain's a bargain. How +funny it is to be talking truth. Why, much of it would make even your job +difficult." + +"And yours impossible, but we're not getting to the Coronal," I insisted. + +"As for that," responded Vogelstein obligingly, "the first thing was of +course the making. You know all about Sarafoff yourself. Well, he only +did the work. It was Schönfeld who put in the brains. You don't know him? +Few do. Great man though. University professor of archaeology, trouble +with a woman, next trouble with money, now one of us. Yes Schönfeld +thought it out and saw it through." + +"And certainly made a good job of it," I admitted. + +"As you see, we wanted something unique--something that could not be +compared with anything in the museums." + +"Precisely," I interposed, "Product of the local, semi-barbaric school of +the Crimea." + +"You've hit it," grinned Vogelstein. "Scythian influence, to take the +professors. Schönfeld said we must have that. And that's why it had to be +found at Balaklava." + +"But it had to look Scythian too. How did you manage that?" + +"Oh, that was Sarafoff's business. He had been a servant and then a +novice at one of the monasteries of Mount Athos. Could make beautiful +tenth-century Byzantine madonnas. I've sold some. Then he carved ikons +in wood, ivory, silver, or what came. His things really looked Scythian +enough to those who didn't know their modern Greece and Russia. So we +set him to work in a back alley of Vienna at three kroners a day--double +pay for him--and Schönfeld ran down from Petersburg now and then to +coach him." + +"You could trust him?" I inquired, recalling how Sarafoff had +subsequently won fame by confessing to his most famous forgery. + +"As much as one can anybody. You see he doesn't speak any civilised +language, and at that time we couldn't tell that the Tiara would spoil +him as it did the entire deal." + +"But Schönfeld's coaching?" I suggested. Vogelstein here winked solemnly +and drank deeply from his tall glass. "First I want to tell you all about +Sarafoff," he persisted, "of course we had him watched all the same, and +whenever he got an evening off, which was seldom, we had him filled up +with schnapps. He was a quiet drunk which is an excellent thing, Sir." As +I nodded assent to this great truth, he continued: "Yes Schönfeld, as I +was saying, managed everything. Wonderful scholar. You would respect him +I'm sure. Why, every bit of the pattern of the Coronal was taken from +some real antique, every word of the inscription too." "Wasn't that a bit +dangerous?" "With Schönfeld in charge, not so very. Everything was taken +from little Russian museums that even you critics don't visit. Almost no +published thing was used, you see." + +"Then there was Sarafoff"-- + +"To give it all that quaint Scythian look," Vogelstein added joyously. +"Yes, we had just the best brains and the best hands for the job, and it +was beautiful." "Better than the Tiara?" + +"Yes, far better. The Tiara was all a mistake, as I told Schönfeld; it +was too big and too good to be true. Except for Steinbach, who fell in +love with its queerness and chipped in some money, we never could have +sold it to a museum. And it was a bad thing to have it there, it aroused +opposition, it was bound to be exposed. I was always against it, and sure +enough it spoiled the game for us. But the Balaklava Coronal that was +just right. It had a sort of well-bred modest beauty. We should have +begun instead of ending with it. Yes, Sir, there never was a more +beautiful thing, a more plausible thing, a finer object to sell than the +Balaklava Coronal." + +As he bellowed the word and beat the table in confirmation, Brush looked +over from his corner apprehensively. "Quietly, Mr. Vogelstein," I hinted, +"this is between ourselves, and we might be overheard." + +"That's right," he admitted, and moodily lit another cigar. "Where were +we?" he asked uneasily. "Oh yes, we were at the Tiara. Now the Coronal +and what we could have sold on the strength of it was worth ten of the +Tiara, and if it hadn't been for the cursed thing, we could have landed +the Coronal as a starter in any one of half a dozen museums." + +"As a matter of fact they were all shy of it." + +"Of course. Once the Tiara was being looked into, the museum game was up, +and there was only Morrison left." Vogelstein lurched around nervously. +"He may drop in soon," he explained. "I'd like to make you acquainted." + +Ignoring the offer, I persisted, "You've got to the interesting point +at last. Tell me why there was only Morrison left. To begin with +Morrison knows something about such matters, and next he can have the +best advice for the asking. And yet you tell me that Morrison was the +only great collector in the world to whom that notoriously false bauble +could be sold." + +Vogelstein swayed uncomfortably in his chair, puffed, swallowed, cleared +his throat, and said, "There are some things one can't say right out; you +know that as well as I, but I can say this: there are many great and +enterprising collectors in America, and Morrison is the only one who +never doubts anything he has once bought." + +"An ideal client then." + +"Quite so. You see the others get worried by the critics. That means +exchanging, refunding--all sorts of trouble." + +"But Morrison never?" + +"Never; he's a true sport. He never squeals." + +"Doesn't have to because he doesn't know he's hurt." + +"That's right," concluded Vogelstein, his face corrugating into one +ample, contented smile. + +"Then the big game reduces itself into selling to Morrison." + +"That's more or less it, Sir. For a critic you have a business head." + +"You will excuse a rather personal question, but how do you feel about +selling your best customer at enormous prices objects which you know to +be false?" + +"It's a fair question since we are talking between ourselves, and you +shall have a straight answer. First my business isn't just a nice one. In +the nature of the case it wouldn't do for sensitive people. I suppose you +and Brush, for instance, couldn't and wouldn't make much out of it. Then +as regards Morrison, I'm not so sure he could complain if he knew. I give +him the things he likes and the treatment he likes at the prices he +likes. What more can any merchant do?" + +I saw the subject rapidly exhausting itself and tried one more tack. +"Yes, it's simpler than I supposed," I admitted, "but it doesn't seem +quite an every-day thing to sell the Balaklava Coronal to anybody under +Brush's nose." + +"It's easier than you think," echoed Vogelstein. "You don't know +Morrison. Hope he'll look in to-night. You ought to meet him." + +My last bolt was shot. It was my turn to sit silent and drink. What could +be this strange infatuation of the hardheaded Morrison, this avowedly +simple magic of the grossly cunning Vogelstein? As I pondered the case I +noticed Brush give a startled glance towards the entrance, heard heavy +steps behind us, and then a deep voice saying, "Hallo again, Vogelstein, +I'm lucky not to be too late to catch you." + +Vogelstein lumbered to his feet and muttered an introduction. We all took +our seats, as the headwaiter bustled obsequiously up to take Morrison's +order of champagne. As if also obeying Morrison's nod, but reluctantly, +Brush crawled over from his corner, a scarcely deferential attendant +transporting his lemonade. + +While casual greetings and some random talk went on I tried to picture +the scene we must present. Neither Brush nor myself is contemptible +physically or in other ways, yet we both seemed curiously the inferiors +of these troglodytic giants. Our scruples, the voluntary complication of +our lives, seemed to constitute at least a disadvantage when measured +against the primitiveness, perhaps the rather brutal simplicity, of our +companions. + +It was Morrison who cut these reflections short. "You will excuse me, +gentlemen," he said, "for introducing a matter of business here, but the +case is pressing and it may even interest you as critics of art." We +nodded permission and he continued, "It's about the Bleichrode Raphael, +as of course you know, Vogelstein. I like it, I want it, but I hear all +sorts of things about it, and frankly it strikes me as dear at the price. +How do you feel about it?" + +At the mention of the Bleichrode Raphael, Brush and I started. The +forgery was more than notorious. The Bleichrode panel had begun life +poorly but honestly as a Franciabigio--a portrait of an unknown +Florentine lad with a beretta, the type of which Raphael's portrait of +himself is the most famous example. The picture hung long in a private +gallery at Rome and was duly listed in the handbooks. One day it +disappeared and when it once more came to light it had become the +Bleichrode Raphael. Its Raphaelisation had been effected, as many of us +knew, by the consummate restorer Vilgard of Ghent, and for him the task +had been an easy one. It had needed only slight eliminations and discreet +additions to produce a portrait of Raphael by himself far more obviously +captivating than any of the genuine series. Soon the picture vanished +from Schloss Bleichrode, and it became anybody's guess what amateur had +been elected to become its possessor. The museums naturally were +forewarned. + +While this came into Brush's memory and mine, Vogelstein's +countenance had become severe, almost sinister, and he was answering +Morrison as follows: + +"Mr. Morrison, I have offered you the Bleichrode Raphael for half a +million dollars. You will hear all sorts of gossip about it. Doubtless +these gentlemen (indicating us) believe it is false and will tell you +so (we nodded feebly). But I offer it not to their judgment but to +yours. You and I know it is a beautiful thing and worth the money. I +make no claims, offer no guarantee for the picture. You have seen it, +and that's enough. If you don't want it, it makes no difference to me, +I can sell it to Theiss (the great Parisian amateur, Morrison's only +real rival), or I will gladly keep it myself, for I shall never have +anything as fine again." + +Morrison sat impassively while Vogelstein watched him narrowly. Brush and +I felt for something that ought to be said yet would not come. At the end +of his speech, or challenge, Vogelstein's expression had softened into +one of the most courtly ingenuousness, now it hardened again into a +strange arrogance. His eyes snapped as he continued with affected +indifference, "Since you have raised the question, Mr. Morrison, the +Bleichrode Raphael is yours to take or leave--to-night." + +There was a pause as the two giants faced each other. Then Morrison +smiled beamingly, as one who loved a good fighter, and said, "Send it +round tomorrow, of course I want it. Well, that's settled, and if these +gentlemen will spare you, I'll give you a lift down town." + +Vogelstein's arrogance melted once more into fulsomeness as he said, +almost forgetting his Goodnight to us, "I'm sure it's very good of you, +Mr. Morrison." + +The forms of Morrison and Vogelstein almost blocked the generous +intercolumnar space as shoulder to shoulder they moved away between the +yellow marble pillars and under the green and gold ceiling. The brown +leather doors swung silently behind them, and we were left together with +our amazement. + +"Never mind, Old Fellow," said Brush at last. "It's the first time for +you. You'll get used to it. It's my second time; I happened to be there, +you know, when the Balaklava Coronal was sold." + + + + +SOME REFLECTIONS ON ART COLLECTING + + +Morally considered, the art collector is tainted with the fourth deadly +sin; pathologically, he is often afflicted by a degree of mania. His +distinguished kinsman, the connoisseur, scorns him as a kind of +mercenary, or at least a manner of renegade. I shall never forget the +expression with which a great connoisseur--who possesses one of the +finest private collections in the Val d'Arno--in speaking of a famous +colleague, declared, "Oh, X----! Why, X---- is merely a collector." The +implication is, of course, that the one who loves art truly and knows it +thoroughly will find full satisfaction in an enjoyment devoid alike of +envy or the desire of possession He is to adore all beautiful objects +with a Platonic fervour to which the idea of acquisition and +domestication is repugnant. Before going into this lofty argument, I +should perhaps explain the collection of my scornful friend. He would +have said: "I see that as I put X---- in his proper place, you look at my +pictures and smile. You have rightly divined that they are of some +rarity, of a sort, in fact, for which X---- and his kind would sell their +immortal souls. But I beg you to note that these pictures and bits of +sculpture have been bought not at all for their rarity, nor even for +their beauty as such, but simply because of their appropriateness as +decorations for this particular villa. They represent not my energy as a +collector, nor even my zeal as a connoisseur, but simply my normal +activity as a man of taste. In this villa it happens that Italian old +masters seem the proper material for decoration. In another house or in +another land you might find me employing, again solely for decorative +purposes, the prints of Japan, the landscapes of the modern +impressionists, the rugs of the East, or the blankets of the Arizona +desert. Free me, then, from the reproach implied in that covert leer at +my Early Sienese." Yes, we must, I think, exclude from the ranks of the +true zealots all who in any plausible fashion utilise the objects of art +they buy. Excess, the craving to possess what he apparently does not +need, is the mark of your true collector. Now these visionaries--at least +the true ones--honour each other according to the degree of "eye" that +each possesses. By "eye" the collector means a faculty of discerning a +fine object quickly and instinctively. And, in fact, the trained eye +becomes a magically fine instrument. It detects the fractions of a +millimetre by which a copy belies its original. In colours it +distinguishes nuances that a moderately trained vision will declare +non-existent. Nor is the trained collector bound by the evidence of the +eye alone. Of certain things he knows the taste or adhesiveness. His ear +grasps the true ring of certain potteries, porcelains, or qualities of +beaten metal. I know an expert on Japanese pottery who, when a sixth +sense tells him that two pots apparently identical come really from +different kilns, puts them behind his back and refers the matter from his +retina to his finger-tips. Thus alternately challenged and trusted, the +eye should become extraordinarily expert. A Florentine collector once saw +in a junk-shop a marble head of beautiful workmanship. Ninety-nine +amateurs out of a hundred would have said. "What a beautiful copy!" for +the same head is exhibited in a famous museum and is reproduced in +pasteboard, clay, metal, and stone _ad nauseam_. But this collector gave +the apparent copy a second look and a third. He reflected that the +example in the museum was itself no original, but a school-piece, and as +he gazed the conviction grew that here was the original. Since it was +closing time, and the marble heavy, a bargain was struck for the morrow. +After an anxious night, this fortunate amateur returned in a cab to bring +home what criticism now admits is a superb Desiderio da Settignano. The +incident illustrates capitally the combination of keenness and patience +that goes to make the collector's eye. + +We may divide collectors into those who play the game and those who do +not. The wealthy gentleman who gives _carte blanche_ to his dealers and +agents is merely a spoilsport. He makes what should be a matter of +adroitness simply an issue of brute force. He robs of all delicacy what +from the first glow of discovery to actual possession should be a fine +transaction. Not only does he lose the real pleasures of the chase, but +he raises up a special clan of sycophants to part him and his money. A +mere handful of such--amassers, let us say--have demoralised the art +market. According to the length of their purses, collectors may also be +divided into those who seek and those who are sought. Wisdom lies in +making the most of either condition. The seekers unquestionably get more +pleasure; the sought achieve the more imposing results. The seekers +depend chiefly on their own judgment, buying preferably of those who know +less than themselves; the sought depend upon the judgment of those who +know more than themselves, and, naturally, must pay for such vicarious +expertise. And, rightly, they pay dear. Let no one who buys of a great +dealer imagine that he pays simply the cost of an object plus a generous +percentage of profit. No, much-sought amateur, you pay the rent of that +palace in Bond Street or Fifth Avenue; you pay the salary of the +gentlemanly assistant or partner whose time is at your disposal during +your too rare visits; you pay the commissions of an army of agents +throughout the world; you pay, alas! too often the cost of securing false +"sale records" in classic auction rooms; and, finally, it is only too +probable that you pay also a heavy secret commission to the disinterested +friend who happened to remark there was an uncommonly fine object in +Y----'s gallery. By a cheerful acquiescence in the suggestions that are +daily made to you, you may accumulate old masters as impersonally, as +genteelly, let me say, as you do railway bonds. But, of course, under +these circumstances you must not expect bargains. + +Now, in objects that are out of the fashion--a category including always +many of the best things--and if approached in slack times, the great +dealers will occasionally afford bargains, but in general the +economically minded collector, who is not necessarily the poor one, must +intercept his prey before it reaches the capitals. That it makes all the +difference from whom and where you buy, let a recent example attest. A +few years ago a fine Giorgionesque portrait was offered to an American +amateur by a famous London dealer. At $60,000 the refusal was granted for +a few days only, subject to cable response. The photograph was tempting, +but the besought amateur, knowing that the authenticity of the average +Giorgione is somewhat less certain than, say, the period of the Book of +Job, let the opportunity pass. A few months after learning of this +incident, I had the pleasure of meeting in Florence an English amateur +who expatiated upon the beauty of a Giorgione that he had just acquired +at the very reasonable price of $15,000. For particulars he referred me +to one of the great dealers of Florence. The portrait, as I already +suspected, was the one I had heard of in America. Forty-five thousand +dollars represented the difference between buying it of a Florentine +rather than a London dealer. Of course, the picture itself had never left +Florence at all, the limited refusal and the rest were merely part of the +usual comedy played between the great dealer and his client. On the other +hand, if the lucky English collector had had the additional good fortune +to make his find in an Italian auction room or at a small dealer's, he +would probably have paid little more than $5,000, while the same purchase +made of a wholly ignorant dealer or direct from the reduced family who +sold this ancestor might have been made for a few hundred francs. With +the seekers obviously lie all the mystery and romance of the pursuit. The +rest surely need not be envied to the sought. One thinks of Consul J.J. +Jarves gradually getting together that little collection of Italian +primitives, at New Haven, which, scorned in his lifetime and actually +foreclosed for a trifling debt, is now an object of pilgrimage for +European amateurs and experts. One recalls the mouse-like activities of +the Brothers Dutuit, unearthing here a gorgeous enamel, retrieving there +a Rembrandt drawing, fetching out a Gothic ivory from a junk-shop. One +sighs for those days, and declares that they are forever past. Does not +the sage M. Eudel warn us that there are no more finds--_"Surtout ne +comptez plus sur les trouvailles."_ Yet not so long ago I mildly chid a +seeker, him of the Desiderio, for not having one of his rare pictures +photographed for the use of students. He smiled and admitted that I was +perfectly right, but added pleadingly, "You know a negative costs about +twenty francs, and for that one may often get an original." Why, even I +who write--but I have promised that this essay shall not exceed +reasonable bounds. + +For the poor collector, however, the money consideration remains a source +of manifold embarrassment, morally and otherwise. How many an enthusiast +has justified an extravagant purchase by a flattering prevision of +profits accruing to his widow and orphans? Let the recording angel reply. +And such hopes are at times justified. There have been instances of men +refused by the life insurance companies who have deliberately adopted the +alternative of collecting for investment, and have done so successfully. +Obviously, such persons fall into the class which the French call +charitably the _marchand-amateur_. Note, however, that the merchant comes +first. Now, to be a poor yet reasonably successful collector without +becoming a _marchand-amateur_ requires moral tact and resolution. The +seeker of the short purse naturally becomes a sort of expert in prices. +As he prowls he sees many fine things which he neither covets nor could +afford to keep, but which are offered at prices temptingly below their +value in the great shops. The temptation is strong to buy and resell. +Naturally, one profitable transaction of this sort leads to another, and +soon the amateur is in the attitude of "making the collection pay for +itself." The inducement is so insidious that I presume there are rather +few persistent collectors not wealthy who are not in a measure dealers. +Now, to deal or not to deal might seem purely a matter of social and +business expediency. But the issue really lies deeper. The difficulty is +that of not letting your left hand know what your right hand does. A +morally ambidextrous person may do what he pleases. He keeps the dealer +and collector apart, and subject to his will one or the other emerges. +The feat is too difficult for average humanity. In nearly every case a +prolonged struggle will end in favour of the commercial self. I have +followed the course of many collector-dealers, and I know very few +instances in which the collection has not averaged down to the level of a +shop--a fine shop, perhaps, but still a shop. I blame no man for +following the wide road, but I feel more kinship with him who walks +scrupulously in the narrow path of strict amateurism. Let me hasten to +add that there are times when everybody must sell. Collections must +periodically be weeded out; one may be hard up and sell his pictures as +another in similar case his horses; artists will naturally draw into +their studios beautiful objects which, occasion offering, they properly +sell. With these obvious exceptions the line is absolutely sharp. Did you +buy a thing to keep? Then you are an amateur, though later your +convenience or necessity dictates a sale. Did you buy it to sell? Then +you are a dealer. + +The safety of the little collector lies in specialisation, and there, +too, lies his surest satisfaction. To have a well-defined specialty +immediately simplifies the quest. There are many places where one need +never go. Moreover, where nature has provided fair intelligence, one must +die very young in order not to die an expert. As I write I think of +D----, one of the last surviving philosophers. Born with the instincts of +a man of letters, he declined to give himself to the gentler pursuit +until he had made a little competence at the law. As he followed his +disinterested course of writing and travel, his enthusiasm centred upon +the antiquities of Greece and Rome. In the engraved gems of that time he +found a beautiful epitome of his favourite studies. For ten years study +and collecting have gone patiently hand in hand. He possesses some fifty +classical gems, many of the best Greek period, all rare and interesting +from material, subject, or workmanship, and he may have spent as many +dollars in the process, but I rather doubt it. He knows his subject as +well as he loves it. Naturally he is writing a book on intaglios, and it +will be a good one. Meanwhile, if the fancy takes him to visit the site +of the Bactrian Empire, he has only to put his collection in his pocket +and enjoy it _en route_. I cannot too highly commend his example, and yet +his course is too austere for many of us. Has untrammelled curiosity no +charms? Would I, for example, forego my casual kakemonos, my ignorantly +acquired majolica, some trifling accumulation of Greek coins, that +handful of Eastern rugs? Could I prune away certain excrescent minor +Whistlers? those bits of ivory cutting from old Italy and Japan? those +tarnished Tuscan panels?--in truth, I could and would not. Yet had I +stuck to my first love, prints, I should by this time be mentioned +respectfully among the initiated, my name would be found in the +card-catalogues of the great dealers, my decease would be looked forward +to with resignation by my junior colleagues. As it is, after twenty years +of collecting, and an expenditure shameful in one of my fiscal estate, I +have nothing that even courtesy itself could call a collection. In +apology, I may plead only the sting of unchartered curiosity, the +adventurous thrill of buying on half or no knowledge, the joy of an +instinctive sympathy that, irrespective of boundaries, knows its own when +it sees it. And you austerely single-minded amateurs, you experts that +surely shall be, I revere if I may not follow you. + +We have left dangling from the first paragraph the morally important +question, Is collecting merely an habitual contravention of the tenth +commandment? Now, I am far from denying that collecting has its +pathology, even its criminology, if you will. The mere lust of +acquisition may take the ugly form of coveting what one neither loves nor +understands. This pit is digged for the rich collector. Poor collectors, +on the other hand, have at times forgotten where enterprise ends and +kleptomania begins. But these excesses are, after all, rare, and for that +matter they are merely those that attach to all exaggerations of +legitimate passion. As for the notion that one should love beautiful +things without desiring them, it seems to me to lie perilously near a +sort of pseudo-Platonism, which, wherever it recurs, is the enemy of life +itself. As I write, my eye falls upon a Japanese sword-guard. I have seen +it a thousand times, but I never fail to feel the same thrill. Out of the +disc of blued steel the artisan has worked the soaring form of a bird +with upraised wings. It is indicated in skeleton fashion by bars +extraordinarily energetic, yet suavely modulated. There must have been +feeling and intelligence in every touch of the chisel and file that +wrought it. Could that same object seen occasionally in a museum showcase +afford me any comparable pleasure? Is not the education of the eye, like +the education of the sentiments, dependent upon stable associations that +can be many times repeated? Shall I seem merely covetous because I crave +besides the casual and adventurous contact with beauty in the world, a +gratification which is sure and ever waiting for me? But let me cite +rather a certain collector and man of great affairs, who perforce spends +his days in adjusting business interests that extend from the arctic +snows to the tropics. His evenings belong generally to his friends, for +he possesses in a rare degree the art of companionship. The small hours +are his own, and frequently he spends them in painting beautiful copies +of his Japanese potteries. It is his homage to the artisans who contrived +those strange forms and imagined those gorgeous glazes. In the end he +will have a catalogue illustrated from his own designs. Meanwhile, he +knows his potteries as the shepherd knows his flock. What casuist will +find the heart to deny him so innocent a pleasure? And he merely +represents in a very high degree the sort of priestliness that the true +collector feels towards his temporary possessions. + +And this sense of the high, nay, supreme value of beautiful things, has +its evident uses. That the beauty of art has not largely perished from +the earth is due chiefly to the collector. He interposes his +sensitiveness between the insensibility of the average man and the always +exiled thing of beauty. If we have in a fractional measure the art +treasures of the past, it has been because the collector has given them +asylum. Museums, all manner of overt public activities, derive ultimately +from his initiative. It is he who asserts the continuity of art and +illustrates its dignity. The stewardship of art is manifold, but no one +has a clearer right to that honourable title. "Private vices, public +virtues," I hear a cynical reader murmur. So be it. I am ready to stand +with the latitudinarian Mandeville. The view makes for charity. I only +plead that he who covets his neighbour's tea-jar--I assume a desirable +one, say, in old brown Kioto--shall be judged less harshly than he who +covets his neighbour's ox. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13114 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c635da --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #13114 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13114) diff --git a/old/13114-8.txt b/old/13114-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5fcc884 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13114-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3725 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Collectors, by Frank Jewett Mather + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Collectors + +Author: Frank Jewett Mather + +Release Date: August 4, 2004 [eBook #13114] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COLLECTORS*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects, +Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +THE COLLECTORS + +Being Cases mostly under the Ninth and Tenth Commandments + +by + +FRANK JEWETT MATHER, Junr. + +1912 + + + + + + + +Comprising a _Ballade_, wherein the Wrongfulness of Art Collecting is +conceded, and as well Certain Stories: _Campbell Corot_, which recounts +the career of an able and candid Picture Forger. _The del Puente +Giorgione_, which tells of an artful Great Lady and an Artless Expert. +_The Lombard Runes_, a mere interlude, but revealing a certain duplicity +in Professional Seekers for Truth. _Their Cross_, so called from an +inanimate Object of Price which wrought Woe to a well meaning New York +Couple. _The Missing St Michael_, a tale of Italianate Americans which is +full of Vanities and, though alluring to the Sophisticated, quite unfit +for the Simple Reader. _The Lustred Pots_, again a mere interlude, but of +a grim sort, as it grazes the Sixth Commandment and _The Balaklava +Coronal_, which, notwithstanding its exotic title, is mostly of our own +People, showing the Triumph of a resourceful Dealer over two Critics and +a Captain of Industry. To which seven stories are added some _Reflections +upon Art Collecting_, setting forth Excuses and Palliations for a +Practice usually regarded as Pernicious. + + + + +FOREWORD + + +Of the seven stories of art collecting that make up this book "Campbell +Corot" and the "Missing St. Michael" first appeared under the pseudonym +of Francis Cotton, in "Scribner's Magazine," and are now reprinted by its +courteous permission. Similar acknowledgment is due the "Nation" for +allowing the sketch on art collecting to be republished. Many readers +will note the similarity between the story "The del Puente Giorgione" and +Paul Bourget's brilliant novelette, "La Dame qui a perdu son Peintre." My +story was written in the winter of 1907, and it was not until the summer +of 1911 that M. Bourget's delightful tale came under my eye. Clearly the +same incident has served us both as raw material, and the noteworthy +differences between the two versions should sufficiently advise the +reader how little either is to be taken as a literal record of facts or +estimate of personalities. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +A Ballade of Art Collectors + +Campbell Corot + +The del Puente Giorgione + +The Lombard Runes + +Their Cross + +The Missing St. Michael + +The Lustred Pots + +The Balaklava Coronal + +On Art Collecting + + + + +A BALLADE OF ART COLLECTORS + + +Oh Lord! We are the covetous. + Our neighbours' goods afflict us sore. +From Frisco to the Bosphorus + All sightly stuff, the less the more, +We want it in our hoard and store. + Nor sacrilege doth us appal-- +Egyptian vault--fane at Cawnpore-- + Collector folk are sinners all. + +Our envoys plot _in partibus_. + They've small regard for chancel door, +Or Buddhist bolts contiguous + To lustrous jade or gold galore +Adorning idol squat or tall-- + These be strange gods that we adore-- +Collector folk are sinners all. + +Of Romulus Augustulus + The signet ring I proudly wore. +Some rummaging _in ossibus_ + I most repentantly deplore. +My taste has changed; I now explore + The sepulchres of Senegal +And seek the pots of Singapore-- + Collector folk are sinners all. + +Lord! Crave my neighbour's wife! What for? + I much prefer his crystal ball +From far Cathay. Then, Lord, ignore + Collector folk who're sinners all. + + + + +CAMPBELL COROT + + +The Academy reception was approaching a perspiring and vociferous close +when the Antiquary whispered an invitation to the Painter, the Patron, +and the Critic. A Scotch woodcock at "Dick's" weighs heavily, even +against the more solid pleasures of the mind, so terminating four +conferences on as many tendencies in modern art, and abandoning four +hungry souls, four hungry bodies bore down an avenue toward "Dick's" +smoky realm, where they found a quiet corner apart from the crowd. It is +a place where one may talk freely or even foolishly--one of those rare +oases in which an artist, for example, may venture to read a lesson to an +avowed patron of art. All the way down the Patron had bored us with his +new Corot, which he described at tedious length. Now the Antiquary barely +tolerated anything this side of the eighteenth century, the Painter was +of Courbet's sturdy following, the Critic had been writing for a season +that the only hope in art for the rich was to emancipate themselves from +the exclusive idolatry of Barbizon. Accordingly the Patron's rhapsodies +fell on impatient ears, and when he continued his importunities over the +Scotch woodcock and ale, the Painter was impelled to express the sense of +the meeting. + +"Speaking of Corot," he began genially, "there are certain +misapprehensions about him which I am fortunately able to clear up. +People imagine, for instance, that he haunted the woods about Ville +d'Avray. Not at all. He frequented the gin-mills in Cedar Street. We are +told he wore a peasant's blouse and sabots; on the contrary, he sported a +frock-coat and congress gaiters. His long clay pipe has passed into +legend, whereas he actually smoked a tilted Pittsburg stogy. We speak of +him by the operatic name of Camille; he was prosaically called Campbell. +You think he worked out of doors at rosy dawn; he painted habitually in +an air-tight attic by lamplight." + +As the Painter paused for the sensation to sink in, the Antiquary +murmured soothingly, "Get it off your mind quickly, Old Man," the Critic +remarked that the Campbells were surely coming, and the Patron asked with +nettled dignity how the Painter knew. + +"Know?" he resumed, having had the necessary fillip. "Because I knew him, +smelled his stogy, and drank with him in Cedar Street. It was some time +in the early '70s, when a passion for Corot's opalescences (with the +Critic's permission) was the latest and most knowing fad. As a realist I +half mistrusted the fascination, but I felt it with the rest, and +whenever any of the besotted dealers of that rude age got in an 'Early +Morning' or a 'Dance of Nymphs,' I was there among the first. For another +reason, my friend Rosenheim, then in his modest beginnings as a +marchand-amateur, was likely to appear at such private views. With his +infallible tact for future salability, he was already unloading the +Institute, and laying in Barbizon. Find what he's buying now, and I'll +tell you the next fad." + +The Critic nodded sagaciously, knowing that Rosenheim, who now poses as +collecting only for his pleasure, has already begun to affect the drastic +productions of certain clever young Spanish realists. + +"Rosenheim," the Painter pursued, "really loved his Corot quite apart +from prospective values. I fancy the pink silkiness of the manner always +appeals to Jews, recalling their most authentic taste, the +eighteenth-century Frenchman. Anyhow, Rosenheim took his new love +seriously, followed up the smallest examples religiously, learned to know +the forgeries that were already afloat--in short, was the best informed +Corotist in the city. It was appropriate, then, that my first relations +with the poet-painter should have the sanction of Rosenheim's presence." + +Lingering upon the reminiscence, the Painter sopped up the last bit of +anchovy paste, drained his toby, and pushed it away. The rest of us +settled back comfortably for a long session, as he persisted. "Rosenheim +wrote me one day that he had got wind of a Corot in a Cedar Street +auction room. It might be, so his news went, the pendant to the one he +had recently bought at the Bolton sale. He suggested we should go down +together and see. So we joggled down Broadway in the 'bus, on what looked +rather like a wild-goose chase. But it paid to keep the run of Cedar +Street in those days; one might find anything. The gilded black walnut +was pushing the old mahogany out of good houses; Wyant and Homer Martin +were occasionally raising the wind by ventures in omnibus sales; then +there were old masters which one cannot mention because nobody would +believe. But that particular morning the Corot had no real competitor; +its radiance fairly filled the entire junk-room. Rosenheim was in +raptures. As luck would have it, it was indeed the companion-piece to +his, and his it should be at all costs. In Cedar Street, he reasonably +felt, one might even hope to get it cheap. Then began our _duo_ on the +theme of atmosphere, vibrancy, etc.--brand new phrases, mind you, in +those innocent days. As Rosenheim for a moment carried the burden alone, +I stepped up to the canvas and saw, with a shock, that the paint was +about two days old. Under what conditions I wondered--for did I not know +the ways of paint--could a real Corot have come over so fresh? I more +than scented trickery. A sketch overpainted---or it seemed above the +quality of a sheer forgery--or was the case worse than that? Meanwhile +not a shade of doubt was in Rosenheim's mind. As I canvassed the +possibilities his _sotto-voce_ ecstasies continued, to the vast +amusement, as I perceived, of a sardonic stranger who hovered unsteadily +in the background. This ill-omened person was clad in a statesmanlike +black frock-coat with trousers of similar funereal shade. A white lawn +tie, much soiled, and congress gaiters, much frayed, were appropriate +details of a costume inevitably topped off with an army slouch hat that +had long lacked the brush. He was immensely long and sallow, wore a +drooping moustache vaguely blonde, between the unkempt curtains of which +a thin cheroot pointed heavenward. As he walked nervously up and down, +with a suspiciously stilted gait, he observed Rosenheim with evident +scorn and the picture with a strange pride. He was not merely odd, but +also offensive, for as Rosenheim whispered _'Comme c'est beau_!' there +was an unmistakable snort; when he continued, _'Mais c'est exquis_!' the +snort broadened into a mighty chuckle; while as he concluded 'Most +luminous!' the chuckle became articulate, in an 'Oh, shucks!' that could +not be ignored. + +"'You seem to be interested, sir,' Rosenheim remarked. 'You bet!' was the +terse response. 'May I inquire the cause of your concern?' Rosenheim +continued placidly. With a most exasperating air of willingness to +please, the stranger rejoined: 'Why, I jest took a simple pleasure, sir, +in seeing an amachoor like you talking French about a little thing I +painted here in Cedar Street.' For a moment Rosenheim was too indignant +to speak, then he burst out with: 'It's an infernal lie; you could no +more paint that picture than you could fly.' 'I did paint it, jest the +same,' pursued the stranger imperturbably, as Rosenheim, to make an end +of the insufferable wag, snapped out sarcastically, 'Perhaps you painted +its mate, then, the Bolton Corot.' 'The one that sold for three thousand +dollars last week? Of course I painted it; it's the best nymph scene I +ever done. Don't get mad, mister; I paint most of the Corots. I'm glad +you like 'em.' + +"For a moment I feared that little Rosenheim would smite the lank annoyer +dead in his tracks. 'For heaven's sake be careful!' I cried. 'The man is +drunk or crazy or he may even be right; the paint on this picture isn't +two days old.' 'Correct,' declared the stranger. 'I finished it day +before yesterday for this sale.' Then a marked change came over +Rosenheim's manner. He grew positively deferential. It delighted him to +meet an artist of talent; they must know each other better. Cards were +exchanged, and Rosenheim read with amazement the grimy inscription +'_Campbell Corot, Landscape Artist_.' 'Yes, that's my painting name,' +Campbell Corot said modestly; 'and my pictures are almost equally as good +as his'n, but not quite. They do for ordinary household purposes. I +really hate to see one get into a big sale like the Bolton; it don't seem +honest, but I can't help it; nobody'd believe me if I told.' Rosenheim's +demeanour was courtly to a fault as he pleaded an engagement and bade us +farewell. Already apparently he divined a certain importance in so +remarkable a gift of mimicry. I stayed behind, resolved on making the +nearer acquaintance of Campbell Corot." + + * * * * * + +"Rosenheim clearly understands the art of business," interrupted the +Antiquary. "And the business of art," added the Critic. "Could your +seedy friend have painted my Corot?" said the Patron in real distress. +"Why not?" continued the Painter remorselessly. "Only hear me out, and +you may judge for yourself. Anyhow, let's drop your Corot; we were +speaking of mine." + +"To make Campbell Corot's acquaintance proved more difficult than I had +expected. He confided to me immediately that he had been a durn fool to +give himself away to my friend, but talk was cheap, and people never +believed him, anyway. Then gloom descended, and my professions of +confidence received only the most surly responses. He unbent again for a +moment with, 'Painter feller, you knowed the pesky ways of paint, didn't +yer?' but when I followed up this promising lead and claimed him as an +associate, he repulsed me with, 'Stuck up, ain't yer? Parley French like +your friend? S'pose you've showed in the Saloon at Paris.' Giving it up, +I replied simply: 'I have; I'm a landscape painter, too, but I'd like to +say before I go that I should be glad to be able to paint a picture like +that.' Looking me in the eye and seeing I meant it, 'Shake!' he replied +cordially. As we shook, his breath met me fair: it was such a breath as +was not uncommon in old-time Cedar Street. Gentlemen who affect this +aroma are, I have noticed, seldom indifferent to one sort of invitation, +so I ventured hardily: 'You know Nickerson's Glengyle, sir; perhaps you +will do me the favour to drink a glass with me while we chat.' Here I +could tell you a lot about Nickerson's." "Don't," begged the Critic, who +is abstemious. "I will only say, then, that Nickerson's, once an +all-night refuge, closes now at three--desecration has made it the yellow +marble office of a teetotaler in the banking line--and the Glengyle, that +blessed essence of the barley, heather, peat, and mist of Old Scotland, +has been taken over by an exporting company, limited. Sometimes I think I +detect a little of it in the poisons that the grocers of Glasgow and +Edinburgh send over here, or perhaps I only dream of the old taste. Then +it was itself, and by the second glass Campbell Corot was quite ready to +soliloquise. You shall have his story about as he told it, but abridged a +little in view of your tender ages and the hour. + + * * * * * + +"John Campbell had grown up contentedly on the old farm under Mount +Everett until one summer when a landscape painter took board with the +family. At first the lad despised the gentle art as unmanly, but as he +watched the mysterious processes he longed to try his hand. The +good-natured Düsseldorfian willingly lent brushes and bits of millboard +upon which John proceeded to make the most lurid confections. The forms +of things were, of course, an obstacle to him, as they are to everybody. +'I never could drore,' he told me, 'and I never wanted to drore like that +painter chap. Why he'd fill a big canvas with little trees and rocks and +ponds till it all seemed no bigger than a Noah's ark show. I used to ask +him, "Why don't you wait till evening when you can't see so much to +drore?"' To such criticism the painter naturally paid no attention, while +John devoted himself to sunsets and the tube of crimson lake. From +babyhood he had loved the purple hour, and his results, while without +form and void, were apparently not wholly unpleasing, for his master paid +him the compliment of using one or two such sketches as backgrounds, +adding merely the requisite hills, houses, fences, and cows. These +collaborations were mentioned not unworthily beside the sunsets of +Kensett and Cropsey next winter at the Academy. From that summer John was +for better or worse a painter. + +"His first local success was, curiously enough, an historical +composition, in which the village hose company, almost swallowed up by +the smoke, held in check a conflagration of Vesuvian magnitude. The few +visible figures and Smith's turning-mill, which had heroically been saved +in part from the flames, were jotted in from photographs. Happily this +work, for which the Alert Hose Company subscribed no less than +twenty-five dollars, providing also a fifty-dollar frame, fell under the +appreciative eye of the insurance adjuster who visited the very ruins +depicted. Recognising immediately an uncommonly available form of +artistic talent, this gentleman procured John a commission as painter in +ordinary to the Vulcan, with orders to come at once to town at excellent +wages. By his twentieth year, then, John was established in an attic +chamber near the North River with a public that, barring change in the +advertising policy of the Vulcan, must inevitably become national. For +the lithographers he designed all manner of holocausts; at times he made +tours through the counties and fixed the incandescent mouth of Vulcan's +forge, the figures within being merely indicated, on the face of a +hundred ledges. That was a shame, he freely admitted to me; the rocks +looked better without. In fact, John Campbell's first manner soon came to +be a humiliation and an intolerable bondage. He felt the insincerity of +it deeply. 'You see, it's this way,' he explained to me, 'you don't see +the shapes by firelight or at sunset, but you have seen them all day and +you know they're there. Nobody that don't have those shapes in his brush +can make you feel them in a picture. Everybody puts too little droring +into sunsets. Nobody paints good ones, not even Inness [we must remember +it was in the early '70s], except a Frenchman called Roosoo. He takes 'em +very late, which is best, and he can drore some too.'" + +"A very decent critic, your alcoholic friend," the Critic remarked. "He +was full of good ideas, as you shall see," the story-teller replied. "I +quite agree with you, if the bad whisky could have been kept away from +him he might have shone in your profession. Anyhow, he had the makings of +an honest man in him, and when the Vulcan enlarged its cliff-painting +programme, he cut loose bravely. Then followed ten lean years of odd +jobs, with landscape painting as a recreation, and the occasional sale of +a canvas on a street corner as a great event. When his need was greatest +he consented to earn good wages composing symbolical door designs for the +Meteor Coach Company, but that again he could not endure for long. Later +in the intervals of colouring photographs, illuminating window-shades, or +whatever came to hand, he worked out the theory which finally led him to +the feet of Corot. It was, in short, that the proper subject for an +artist deficient in linear design is sunrise. + +"He explained the matter to me with zest. 'By morning you've half +forgotten the look of things. All night you've seen only dreams that +don't have any true form, and when the first light comes, nothing shows +solid for what it is. The mist uncovers a little here and there, and you +wonder what's beneath. It's all guesswork and nothing sure. Take any +morning early when I look out of my attic window to the North River. +There's nothing but a heap of fog, grey or pink, as there's more or less +sun behind. It gets a little thick over toward Jersey, and that may be +the shore, or again it mayn't. Then a solid bit of vi'let shows high up, +and I guess it's Castle Stevens, but perhaps it ain't. Then a pale-yellow +streak shoots across the river farther up and I take it to be the +Palisades, but again it may be jest a ray of sunshine. You see there +really ain't no earth; it's all air and light. That's what a man that +can't drore ought to paint; that's what my namesake, Cameel Corot, did +paint better than any one that ever lived.' + +"At this point of his confession John Campbell glared savagely at me for +assent, and set down a sadly frayed and noxious stogy on Nickerson's +black walnut. I hastened to agree, though much of the doctrine was heresy +to a realist, only objecting: 'But one really has to draw a scene such as +you describe just like any other. In fact, the drawing of atmosphere is +the most difficult branch of our art. Many very good painters, like my +master, Courbet, have given it up.' 'Corbet!' he replied contemptuously; +'he didn't give it up; he never even seen it. But don't I know it's hard, +sir? For years I tried to paint it, and I never got nothing but the fog; +when I put in more I lost that. They're pretty, those sketches--like +watered silk or the scum in the docks with the sun on it; but, Lord, +there ain't nothing into 'em, and that's the truth. At last, after +fumbling around for years, I happened to walk into Vogler's gallery one +day and saw my first Corot. Ther' it was--all I had been trying for. It +was the kind of droring I knew ought to be, where a man sets down more +what he feels than what he knows. I knew I was beginning too late, but I +loved that way of working. I saw all the Corots I could, and began to +paint as much as I could his way. I got almost to have his eye, but of +course I never got his hand. Nobody could, I guess, not even an educated +artist like you, or they'd all a don' it.' + + * * * * * + +"After this awakening John Campbell began the artist's life afresh with +high hopes. His first picture in the sweet new style was honestly called +'Sunrise in Berkshire,' though he had interwoven with his own +reminiscences of the farm several motives from various compositions of +his great exemplar. He signed the canvas Campbell Corot, in the familiar +capital letters, because he didn't want to take all the credit; because +he desired to mark emphatically the change in his manner, and because it +struck him as a good painting name justified by the resemblance between +his surname and the master's Christian name. It was a heartfelt homage in +intention. If the disciple had been familiar with Renaissance usages, he +would undoubtedly have signed himself John of Camille. + +"'Sunrise in Berkshire' fetched sixty dollars in a downtown auction room, +the highest price John had ever received; but this was only the beginning +of a bewildering rise in values. When John next saw the picture, Campbell +had been deftly removed, and the landscape, being favourably noticed in +the press, brought seven hundred dollars in an uptown salesroom. John +happened on it again in Beilstein's gallery, where the price had risen to +thirteen hundred dollars--a tidy sum for a small Corot in those early +days. At that figure it fell to a noted collector whose walls it still +adorns. Here Campbell Corot's New England conscience asserted itself. He +insisted on seeing Beilstein in person and told him the facts. Beilstein +treated the visitor as an impostor and showed him the door, taking his +address, however, and scornfully bidding him make good his story by +painting a similar picture, unsigned. For this, if it was worth anything, +the dealer promised he should be liberally paid. Naturally Campbell +Corot's professional dander was up, and he produced in a week a Corotish +'Dance of Nymphs,' if anything, more specious than the last. For this +Beilstein gave him twenty-five dollars, and within a month you might have +seen it under the skylight of a country museum, where it is still +reverently explained to successive generations of school-children. + +"If Campbell Corot had been a stronger character, he might have made +some stand against the fraudulent success his second manner was +achieving. But, unhappily, in those experimental years he had acquired +an experimental knowledge of the whisky of Cedar Street. His irregular +and spend-thrift ways had put him out of all lines of employment. +Besides, he was consumed by an artist's desire to create a kind of +picture that he could not hope to sell as his own. Nor did the voice of +the tempter, Beilstein, fail to make itself heard. He offered an +unfailing market for the little canvases at twenty-five and fifty +dollars, according to size. There was a patron to supply unlimited +colours and stretchers, a pocket that never refused to advance a small +bill when thirst or lesser need found Campbell Corot penniless. Almost +inevitably he passed from occasional to habitual forgery, consoling +himself with the thought that he never signed the pictures and, before +the law at least, was blameless. But signed they all were somewhere +between their furtive entrance at Beilstein's basement and their +appearance on his walls or in the auction rooms. Of course it wasn't the +blackguard Beilstein who forged the five magic letters; he would never +take the risk, 'Blast his dirty soul!' cried Campbell Corot aloud, as he +seethed with the memory of his shame. He rose as if for summary +vengeance, to the amazement of the quiet topers in the room. For some +time his utterance had been getting both excited and thick, and now I +saw with a certain chagrin that the Glengyle had done its work only too +well. It was a question not of hearing his story out, but of getting him +home before worse befell. By mingled threats and blandishments I got him +away from Nickerson's, and after an adventurous passage down Cedar +Street, I deposited him before his attic door, in a doubtful frame of +mind, being alternately possessed by the desire to send Beilstein to +hell and to pray for the eternal welfare of the only genuine Corot." + +"You certainly make queer acquaintances," ejaculated the Patron uneasily. + +"Hurry up and tell us the rest; it's growing late," insisted the +Antiquary, as he beckoned for the bill. + +"I saw Campbell Corot only once more, but occasionally I saw his work, +and it told a sad tale of deterioration. The sunrises and nymphals no +longer deceived anybody, having fallen nearly to the average level of +auction-room impressionism. I was not surprised, then, when running into +him near Nickerson's one day I felt that drink and poverty were speeding +their work. He tried to pass me unrecognised, but I stopped him, and +once more the invitation to a nip proved irresistible. My curiosity was +keen to learn his attitude toward his own work and that of his master, +and I attempted to draw him out with a crass compliment. He denied me +gently. 'The best things I do, or rather did, young feller, are jest a +little poorer than his worst. Between ourselves, he painted some pretty +bum things. Some I suppose he did, like me, by lamplight. Some he +sketched with one hand while he was lighting that there long pipe with +the other. Sometimes, I guess, he was in a hurry for the money. Now, +when I'm painting my level best, like I used to could, mine are about +like that. But people don't know the difference about him or about me; +and mine, as I told your Jew friend, are plenty good enough for +every-day purposes. Used to be, anyway. Nobody can paint like his best. +Think of it, young feller, you and me is painters and know what it +means--jest a little dirty paint on white canvas, and you see the +creeping of the sunrise over the land, the breathing of the mist from +the fields, and the twinkling of the dew in the young leaves. Nobody but +him could paint that, and I guess he never knowed how he done it; he +jest felt it in his brush, it seems to me.' + +"After this outburst little more was to be got from him. In a word, he +had gone to pieces and knew it. Beilstein had cast him off; the works in +the third manner hung heavy in the auction places. Leaning over the +table, he asked me, 'Who was the gent that said, "My God, what a genius I +had when I done that!"?' I told him that the phrase was given to many, +but that I believed Swift was the gent. 'Jest so,' Campbell Corot +responded; 'that's the way I felt the last time I saw Beilstein. He'd +been sending back my things and, for a joke, I suppose, he wrote me to +come up and see a real Corot, and take the measure of the job I was +tackling. So up to the avenue I went, and Beilstein first gave me my +dressing down and then asked me into the red-plush private room where he +takes the big oil and wheat men when they want a little art. There on the +easel was a picture. He drew the cloth away and said: "Now, Campbell, +that's what we want in our business." As sure as you're born, sir, it was +a "Dance of Nymphs" that I done out of photographs eight years ago. But I +can't paint like that no more. I know the way your friend Swift felt; +only I guess my case is worse than his.' + +"The mention of photographs gave me a clue to Campbell Corot's artistic +methods. It appeared that Beilstein had kept him in the best +reproductions of the master. But on this point the disciple was reticent, +evading my questions by a motion to go. 'I'm not for long probably,' he +said, as he refused a second glass. 'You've been patient while I've +talked--I can't to most--and I don't want you to remember me drunk. Take +good care of yourself, and, generally speaking, don't start your whisky +till your day's painting is done.' I stood for some minutes on the corner +of Broadway as his gaunt form merged into the glow that fell full into +Cedar Street from the setting sun. I wondered if the hour recalled the +old days on the farm and the formation of his first manner. + +"However that may be, his premonition was right enough. The next winter I +read one morning that the body of Campbell Corot had been taken from the +river at the foot of Cedar Street. It was known that his habits were +intemperate, and it was probable that returning from a saloon he had +walked past his door and off the dock. His cards declared him to be a +landscape painter, but he was unknown in the artistic circles of the +city. I wrote to the authorities that he was indeed a landscape painter +and that the fact should be recorded on his slab in Potter's Field. I was +poor and that was the only service I could do to his memory." + +The Painter ceased. We all rose to go and were parting at the doorway +with sundry hems and haws when the Patron piped up anxiously, "Do you +suppose he painted my Corot?" "I don't know and I don't care," said the +Painter shortly. "Damn it, man, can't you see it's a human not a +picture-dealing proposition?" sputtered the Antiquary. "That's right," +echoed the Critic, as the three locked arms for the stroll downtown, +leaving the bewildered Patron to find his way alone to the Park East. + + + + +THE DEL PUENTE GIORGIONE + + +The train swung down a tawny New England river towards Prestonville as I +reviewed the stages of a great curiosity. At last I was to see the Del +Puente Giorgione. Long before, when the old pictures first began to speak +to me, I had learned that the critic Mantovani, the master of us all, +owned an early Giorgione, unfinished but of marvellous beauty. At his +death, strangely enough, it was not found among his pictures, which were +bequeathed as every one knows to the San Marcello Museum. The next word I +had of it was when Anitchkoff, Mantovani's disciple and successor, +reported it in the Del Puente Castle in the Basque mountains. He added a +word on its importance though avowedly knowing it only from a photograph. +It appeared that Mantovani in his last days had given the portrait to his +old friend the Carlist Marquesa del Puente, in whose cause--picturesque +but irrelevant detail--he had once drawn sword. Anitchkoff's full +enthusiasm was handsomely recorded after he had made the pilgrimage to +the Marquesa's crag. One may still read in that worthy but short-lived +organ of sublimity, "Le Mihrab," his appreciation of the Del Puente +Giorgione, which he describes as a Giambellino blossoming into a Titian, +with just the added exquisiteness that the world has only felt since Big +George of Castelfranco took up the brush. How the panel exchanged the +Pyrenees for the North Shore passed dimly through my mind as barely worth +recalling. It was the usual story of the rich and enterprising American +collector. Hanson Brooks had bought it and hung it in "The Curlews," +where it bid fair to become legendary once more, but at last had lent it +with his other pictures to the Prestonville Museum of Science and the +Fine Arts, the goal of my present quest. While the picture lay _perdu_ at +Brooks's, there had been disquieting gossip; the Pretorian Club, which is +often terribly right in such matters, agreed that he had been badly sold. +None of this I believed for an instant. What could one doubt in a picture +owned by Mantovani and certified by Anitchkoff? Upon this point of +rumination the train stopped at Prestonville. + +My approach to the masterpiece was reverently deliberate. At the +American House I actually lingered over the fried steak and dallied long +with the not impossible mince pie. Thus fortified, I followed Main +Street to the Museum--one of those depressingly correct new-Greek +buildings with which the country is being filled. Skirting with a shiver +the bleak casts from the antique in the atrium and mounting an absurdly +spacious staircase, I reached a doorway through which the _chef +d'oeuvre_ of my dreams confronted me cheerlessly. Its nullity was +appalling; from afar I felt the physical uneasiness that an equivocal +picture will usually produce in a devotee. To approach and study it was +a civility I paid not to itself but to its worshipful _provenance_. A +slight inspection told all there was to tell. The paint was palpably +modern; the surface would not have resisted a pin. In style it was a +distant echo of the Giorgione at Berlin. Yet, as I gazed and wondered +sadly, I perceived it was not a vulgar forgery--indeed not a forgery at +all. It had been done to amuse some painter of antiquarian bent. I even +thought, too rashly, that I recognised the touch of the youthful Watts, +and I could imagine the studio revel at which he or another had +valiantly laid in a Giorgione before the punch, as his contribution to +the evening's merriment. The picture upon the pie wrought a black +depression that some excellent Japanese paintings were powerless to +dispel. As my train crawled up the tawny river, now inky, my thoughts +moved helplessly about the dark enigma--How could Mantovani have +possessed such rubbish? How could Anitchkoff, enjoying the use of his +eyes and mind, have credited it for a moment? My reflections +preposterously failed to rest upon the obvious clue, the mysterious +Marquesa del Puente, and it was not until I met Anitchkoff, some years +later, that I began to divine the woman in the case. + +After ten years of absence he had come back to America on something like +a triumphal tour. I had promptly paid my respects and now through a +discreet persistency was to have a long evening with him at the +Pretorian. As I studied the dinner card, guessing at his gastronomic +tastes, my mind was naturally on his remarkable career. Anitchkoff, +brought from Russia in childhood, had grown up in decent poverty in a +small New England city. Very early he showed the intellectual ambition +that distinguished all the family. Our excellent public schools made his +way to the nearest country college easy and inevitable. There began the +struggle the traces of which might be read in an almost melancholy +gravity quite unnatural in a man become famous at thirty-five. With the +facility of his race he learned all the languages in the curriculum and +read ferociously in many literatures. In his junior year the appearance +of a great and genial work on psychology made him the metaphysician he +has remained through all digressions in the connoisseurship and criticism +of art. How his search for ultimate principles involved a mastery of the +minutiae of the Venetian school I could only guess. But one could imagine +the process. Seeking to ground his personal preferences in a general +esthetic, he would have found his data absolutely untrustworthy. How +could he presume to interpret a Giorgione or a Titian when what they +painted was undetermined? Upon these shifting sands he declined to rear +his tabernacle. To the work of classifying the Venetians, accordingly, he +set himself with dogged honesty. As a matter of course Mantovani became +his chief preceptor--Mantovani who first discovered that the highly +complex organism we call a work of art has a morphology as definite as +that of a trilobite; that the artist may no more transcend his own forms +than a crustacean may become a vertebrate. For a matter of ten years +Anitchkoff, espousing a fairly Franciscan poverty, gave himself to this +ungrateful task. How he contrived to live in the shadow of the great +galleries was a mystery the solution of which one suspected to be bitter +and heroic. Gradually recognition as an expert came to him and with it an +irksome success. His fame had developed duties, and while his studies in +esthetics remained fragmentary, he was persistently consulted on all +manner of trivialities. From Piedmont to the confine of Dalmatia he knew +every little master that ever made or marred panel or plaster, and he +paid the penalty of such knowledge. Surmising the tragedy of his career +and its essential nobility I had discounted the ugly rumours connecting +him with the sale of the Del Puente Giorgione. When every fool learned +that the Giorgione at "The Curlews" was false, many inferred that +Anitchkoff, having praised it, must have a hand in Brooks's bad +bargain--a conclusion sedulously put about and finally hinted in cold +type by certain rival critics. Personally I knew that Brooks had bagged +his find under quite other advice, but while I would always have sworn to +Anitchkoff's complete integrity in the whole Del Puente matter, my wonder +also grew at so hideous a lapse of judgment. I hopelessly fell back upon +such banalities as the errability of mankind, being conscious all the +time that some special and most curious infatuation must underlie this +particular error. Anitchkoff's card interrupted some such train of +thought. He came in quietly as sunshine after fog. His face between the +curtains reminded me strangely of the awful moment in the Prestonville +Museum--paradoxically, for he was as genuine and reassuring as the Del +Puente Giorgione had been baffling and false. + +We began dinner with the stiffness of men between whom much is unsaid. +As the oystershells departed, however, we had found common memories. He +recalled delightfully those little northern towns in the debatable +region which from a critic's point of view may be considered Lombard or +Venetian, with a tendency to be neither but rather a Transalpine +Bavaria. To me also the glow of the Burgundy on the tablecloth brought +back strange provincial altarpieces in this territory--marvels in +crimson and gold, and a riddle for the connoisseur. Then the talk +reached higher latitudes. He mused aloud about that very simple reaction +which we call the sense of beauty and have resolutely sophisticated ever +since criticism existed--I intent meanwhile and eating most of a mallard +as sanguine as a decollation of the Baptist. By the cheese Anitchkoff +seemed confident of my sympathy, and I, having found nothing amiss in +him except an imperfect enjoyment of the pleasures of the table, was +planning how least imprudently might be raised the topic of the Del +Puente Giorgione. But it was he who spoke first. At the coffee he asked +me with admirable simplicity what people said about the affair, and I +answered with equal candour. + +"You too have wondered," he continued. + +"Of course, but nothing worse," I replied. + +Then with the hesitancy of a man approaching a dire chagrin, and yet with +a rueful appreciation of the humour of the predicament that I despair of +reproducing, he began: + +"It happened about this way. When I first came to Italy and began to meet +the friends of Mantovani, they told me of an early Giorgione he owned but +rarely showed. He used to speak of it affectionately as 'il mio Zorzi,' +to distinguish it perhaps from the more important example he had sold to +one of our dilettante iron-masters. The little unfinished portrait I +heard of, from those whose opinion is sought, as a superlatively lovely +thing. It was mentioned with a certain awe; to have seen it was a +distinction. For years I hoped my time would come, but the opportunity +was provokingly delayed. How should you feel if Mrs. Warrener should show +you all her things but the great Botticelli?" I nodded understandingly. +Mrs. Warrener, for a two minutes' delay in an appointment, had debarred +me her Whistlers for a year. + +"That's the way Mantovani treated me," Anitchkoff continued. "Whenever I +dared I asked for the 'Zorzi,' and he always put me off with a smile. +That mystified me, for I knew he took a paternal pride in my studies, but +I never got any more satisfactory answer from him than that the 'Zorzi' +was strong meat for the young; one must grow up to it, like S---- and +P---- and C---- (naming some of his closest disciples). These allusions +he made repeatedly and with a queer sardonic zest. Occasionally he would +volunteer the encouragement--for I had long ago dropped the +subject--'Cheer up, my boy; your turn will come.' When he so Quixotically +gave the picture to the Marquesa del Puente, it seemed, though, as if my +turn could never come, but I noted that he had been true to his doctrine +that the 'Zorzi' was only for the mature; the Del Puente was said to be +some years his senior. One knew exasperatingly little about her. It was +said vaguely that Mantovani entertained a tender friendship for her, +having been her husband's comrade in arms in half a dozen Carlist +revolts. That seemed enough to explain the gift." + +At this point Anitchkoff must have caught my raised eyebrows, for he +added contritely, "It was odd for Mantovani to give away a Giorgione. +You're quite right. I was ridiculously young." "You may imagine," he +pursued, "that the flight of the Giorgione to the Pyrenees only +embittered my curiosity. For years I might have seen it--shabbily to be +sure--by merely opening a door when Mantovani was occupied, now it had +departed to another planet. Remember those were my 'prentice days when I +lived obscurely and absolutely without acquaintance in the Marquesa's +world. She seemed as inaccessible as the Grand Lama. But you know how +things will come about in least expected ways: Jane Morrison, quite the +only human being who could possibly have known both the Marquesa and me, +actually gave me a very good letter of introduction. Then almost +oppressive good luck, came a note from her mountain Castle, telling that +the Chatelaine would be glad to receive me whenever my travels led me her +way. She mentioned our common enthusiasm for the Venetians and graciously +wanted my opinion on the Giorgione, which the enemies of Mantovani, her +friend and my spiritual father, as she called him, had spitefully +slandered. Such slanders had never happened to reach my ears but I was +already eager to refute them. + +"It was two years later that I made the visit on the way to the Prado. +All day long the diligence rattled up hill away from the railroad, and it +was dusk before I saw the Del Puente stronghold on its crag, evidently a +half hour's walk from the miserable _fonda_ where the diligence dropped +me. It was no hour to present an introduction, but I bribed a boy to take +the letter up that night. He returned, disappointingly, without an +answer. The next morning wore on intolerably amid a noisy squalor that I +could not escape until my summons came. It was early afternoon before an +equerry arrived on muleback bearing the Marquesa's note. She was +enchanted to meet me but desolated at the unlucky time of my arrival. +Tomorrow she crossed the Pyrenees for Paris and hoped my route might lie +that way. Meanwhile her home was wholly dismantled for the winter, and +the ordinary hospitalities were denied her. But she counted on the +pleasure of seeing me at four; we might at least chat, drink a cup of +tea, and pay our homage to Mantovani's 'Zorzi.' Nothing could have been +more charming or more tantalising. As I toiled up towards the Del Puente +barbican I could feel the precious afternoon light dwindling. Breathless +I set the castle bell a-jangling with something like despair. + +"Heavy doors opened in front of me as I passed the sallyport and the +grassgrown courtyard. At the entrance a majordomo in shabby but fairly +regal livery greeted me and conducted me through empty corridors and up +a massive staircase. The castle was indeed dismantled--apparently had +been in that condition from all time. As my superb guide halted before a +door which, exceptionally, was curtained, and knocked, my heart failed +me. I dreaded meeting this strange noblewoman, almost regretted the +nearness of the 'Zorzi,' knowing the actual colours could hardly surpass +those of my fancy. The little speeches I had been rehearsing resolved +themselves into silence again as I saw her by a tiny fire; a compelling +apparition, erect, with snowy hair waving high over burning black eyes. +To-day when I coldly analyse her fascination I recall nothing but these +simple elements. She permitted not a moment of the shyness that has +always plagued me. What our words were I do not now know, but I know +that I kissed the two hands she held out to me as she called me +Mantovani's son and her friend. Then I talked as never before or since, +told her of my struggles and ambitions, and from time to time I was mute +so that I might hear the deep contralto of the French she spoke +perfectly but with Spanish resonance. There was probably tea. Anyhow the +light went away from the deep casements unnoticed, and it was she who, +with a chiding finger, recalled me to duty and the Giorgione. 'Wretch,' +said she, 'you are here to see it not me. The light is going and your +devoirs yet unpaid.' + +"As she took my arm and led me through the gallery, I had an odd +presentiment of going towards a doom. While I followed her up a winding +stair, the misgiving increased. Did venerable lemurs inhabit the Basque +mountains? Could so magnificent; an old age be of this earth? An +ancestral shudder from the Steppes came over me. It was her ruddy train +rustling round the turns ahead that aroused these atavistic +superstitions. But when we stood together on the landing all doubts fell +away; a broad ray of sunlight that struck through an open doorway showed +her spectral beauty to be after all reassuringly corporeal. Over the +threshold she fairly pushed me with the warning, 'The place is holy, we +must be silent.' For a moment I was staggered by the wide pencil of light +that shot through a porthole and cut the room in two. The little octagon, +a tower chamber I took it to be, was a prism of shadow enclosing a shaft +of flying golddust. Outside it must have been full sunset. Near the +border line of light and darkness I faintly saw the 'Zorzi,' which +borrowed a glory from the moment and from her. I felt her hand on my +shoulder and knelt, it seemed for minutes, it probably was for seconds +only. The picture, which I had not seen, much less examined, swam in the +twilight and became the most gracious that had ever met my eyes. The dusk +grew as the disc of light climbed up the wall and faded. She whispered in +my ear, 'It is enough for now. You shall come again many times.' I recall +nothing more except the Marquesa's silvery hair and the long line of her +crimson gown as she bade me 'Au revoir' at the head of the great stairs. +That night in the miserable _fonda_ below I wrote out feverishly the +notes which you have doubtless read in the 'Mihrab,' and I would give my +right hand to be able to forget." + +There was a long pause, during which Anitchkoff sipped his cognac +nervously, waiting for my comment. I pressed him ruthlessly for the +bitter end of the tale. + +"Your hypnotism I grant, but what about Mantovani and Brooks?" I +asked bluntly. + +"For Mantovani I have no right to speak," Anitchkoff replied with +dignity. "He was my master and I can admit no imputation on his memory. +Besides, your guess is as good as mine. Whether he bought the picture +in his precritical days, keeping it as a warning and imposing it upon +his followers as a hoax--this I can merely conjecture. As for Brooks, +the case is simple; he couldn't resist a Giorgione at a bargain. But +since you will, you may as well hear the rest of the story--at least my +part of it. + +"Three years later I wintered in Paris. I had run into Bing's for a chat +and a look at the Hokusais, when who should come in but Hanson Brooks in +a high state of elation. An important purchase had just arrived. He urged +us both to dine and inspect it. Bing was engaged; I glad to accept. At +dinner Brooks teased me to the top of his bent. I was to imagine +absolutely the most important old master in private possession, his for a +beggarly price. I declined to humour him by guessing, and we slurred his +sweets and coffee to hasten to the apartment. On a dressing table faced +to the wall was a little panel which he slowly turned into view. For a +moment I gasped for joy, it was the Del Puente Giorgione; and then an +awful misgiving overcame me--I saw it as it was. Brooks marked my +amazement and, misreading the cause, slapped me on the back and asked +what I thought of that for a hundred thousand pesetas. The figure again +bowled me over. For the picture as it stood it was a thousand times too +much, while a mere tithe of the value of the name the panel bore. I +blurted out that the price was suspiciously wrong, and added that I must +see the portrait by daylight before venturing an opinion. The thought +that Mantovani had owned it for twenty years and more made a sleepless +night hideous; at sunrise my loyalty reasserted itself by a lame +compromise. + +"I daresay you will not blame me for hoping against hope, as I did the +next day and for some months after, that somewhere under that modern +paint there was indeed a sketch by Giorgione's hand. You must remember +that I could as little doubt my own existence as Mantovani's judgment on +such a point. In the sequel it seemed as if no humiliation were to be +spared me. It was Mantovani's chief rival and favourite victim, Merck, +who after a torturing correspondence had the pleasure of telling me he +had seen the 'Zorzi' painted by the amateur Ricard; it was Campbell who, +after recommending it to Brooks, publicly accused me of dishonest +brokerage. That's all I can tell you about the Del Puente Giorgione." + +I seized his hand impulsively, and clumsily offered him, in a breath, +whisky, shuffleboard, or cowboy pool--sound Pretorian remedies for all +human woes. These consolations he refused and took his leave. Midnight +found me in the same chair, thinking less of Anitchkoff, whose case now +lay clear, than of Mantovani and the Marquesa del Puente, about whom it +seemed there still might be something to say. + +The chances of a roving life have brought some slight addition to the +evidence. Stopping over a boat at Dieppe, a few summers ago, I happened +to see my good friend Mme. Vezin registered at the Casino, where I +recognised an acquaintance or two. That decided me to spend the night and +call at her villa. Her salon never failed to divert me, for, drawing +together the most disparate people, she handled them with easy +generalship. Under her chandelier ardent art students from the Middle +West and the poor relations of royalty might be heard exchanging +confidences and foreign tongues. So, as I climbed the hill at the verge +of the chalk and pasture, I felt sure of the unexpected, nor was I +disappointed. Shrill voices from my fellow countrywomen came down the +garden path and assured me that art had accompanied Mme. Vezin in her +annual retreat from the Luxembourg Gardens. Entering I found the same +perfect hostess and much the old dear, queer scene. I was bracing myself +for a polyglot evening--being with all my travel quite incapable of +languages--when the little maid announced importantly Mme. la Marquise +del Puente. All rose instinctively as there entered an erect white-haired +woman simply dressed in a black gown along which hung a notable crimson +scarf. Murmuring the indispensable banalities I bowed distantly, meaning +to observe her impersonally before an encounter. But she disarmed me by +throwing herself on my mercy. She knew me already through dear Mr. Hanson +Brooks. It was her first visit here; I, she saw, was of the household. +Would I not show her the curiosities and protect her from the bores? +Sullenly I followed her while she discussed the bijoux that littered the +shelves, and the deep modulations of her voice insensibly mollified me. I +had intended in Anitchkoff's behalf to count every wrinkle of her +seventy-five unhallowed years, but found myself instead admiring her +cloud of silver hair, avoiding the gaze of her black eyes, and noting +with a kind of fascination the precise gestures of her fine hand as she +took up or set down Mme. Vezin's poor little things. + +At last she settled into an armchair, beckoning me to a footstool, and I +began to talk unconscionably, she urging me on. She professed to know my +writings--it was of course impossible that she should have seen those +rare anonymous letters to the most ladylike of Boston newspapers: she +touched my dearest hobby, that republics and governments generally must +be judged not by their politics but by the amenity of the social life +they foster. Feeling that this was witchcraft or divination even more +questionable, and dreading she had another Giorgione to sell, I made a +last futile effort for freedom, proposing introductions. With a phrase +she subdued me, and my halting French began to be eloquent. I confessed +my innermost ambition, the creation of a criticism learned and judicial +in substance but impressionistic in form. She dwelt upon the beauties of +her eyrie in the Basque mountains which I must one day see. As we chatted +on obliviously an audience of marvelling art students and baigneurs +formed about us quietly. Their serried faces suddenly revealed to me my +ignominious surrender. I started as from a dream and, as she bade me not +forget to call, I kissed her long hand and fled with only a curt farewell +to my hostess. + +The channel breeze and the scent of the clover sobered me up. My pity +went out to Anitchkoff and then I remembered that I had seen Fouquart +at the Casino. It seemed too good to be true. Here at Dieppe were both +this enigmatic Marquesa and the prime repository of all authentic +scandal of our times. For the old dandy Fouquart had lived not wisely +but too well through three generations of cosmopolitan gallantry. Had +the censorship and his literary parts permitted, he could have written +a chronicle of famous ladies that would put the Sieur de Brantôme's +modest attempt to shame. I found him among the rabble, moodily playing +the little horses for five-franc pieces, but at the mention of the +Marquesa del Puente he kindled. + +"A grand woman," he said emphatically, as he dragged me to a safe corner, +"a true model to the anemic and neurotic sex of the day." When asked to +specify he told me how the energy and passion of twenty generations of +robber noblefolk had flowered in her. Scruples or fears she had never +known. From childhood attached to the Carlist cause, she had become the +soul of that movement in the Pyrenees. It was she who haggled with +British armourers, traced routes, planned commissariats, and most of all +drew from far and near soldiers of fortune to captain a hopeless cause. +In such recruiting, Fouquart implied, her loyalty had not flinched at the +most personal tests. What seemed to mystify Fouquart was that none of +these whilom champions ever attained the grace of forgetfulness. Every +year many of these tottering old gentlemen still reported at Castle del +Puente, and there she held court as of old. He himself, although their +relations had been not military but civil, occasionally made so idle a +pilgrimage. "To the shrine of our Lady of the crimson teagown," I +ventured. "You too, _mon vieux_!" he chuckled with ironical +congratulations. Ignoring the impertinence, I interposed the name of +Mantovani. "Our respected colleague," Fouquart exclaimed delightedly. +Before Mantovani fuddled his head about pictures he had been a good +blade, taking anyone's pay. For ten years and through half as many little +wars he had been the Marquesa's titular chief of staff. Her husband? +Well, her husband was a good Carlist--and a true philosopher. As I tore +myself away from the impending flow of scandal, Fouquart murmured +regretfully. "Must you go? It is a pity. We have only begun, _à demain_." +But we had really ended, for the next morning, shaking off a nightmare of +a red-robed Lilith who tried to sell me a questionable Zeuxis, I took the +early steamer. Of the Marquesa del Puente, whom I believe to be still at +her castle, I have seen or heard nothing since. + + * * * * * + +After some reflection in the corner of the Pretorian where Anitchkoff +once told me his story, I have come measurably into the clear about the +whole matter. Mantovani's position is plain up to a certain point. Either +the 'Zorzi' was given to him or else he bought it in his hopeful youth. +In either case he surely kept it merely as a solemn hoax on his learned +contemporaries. He may have withheld it from Anitchkoff maliciously, or +again out of simple considerateness for a trusting disciple. When +Mantovani came to set his worldly affairs in order, however, it must have +struck him that the joke could not be perpetuated on the walls of the San +Marcello gallery, while the panel was one that a great connoisseur would +not willingly have inventoried by his executors. It was at this time that +he bestowed the 'Zorzi' upon the Marquesa del Puente, as a final token +between them. It may fairly be assumed that he knew her to be incapable +of believing the precious souvenir to be a veritable Giorgione. Such +simplicity as that gift and credulity presuppose lay neither in his +nature nor in hers. Beyond this point certitudes fail us lamentably, and +we are reduced to an exasperating balance of possibilities. Did he send +the picture as an elaborate and unavoidable slight? or was it essentially +a delicate alms, in view of the Marquesa's known poverty and proved +resourcefulness? or, again, did he with a deeper perversity set the thing +afloat to trouble the critical world after he was gone, foreseeing +perhaps some such international comedy as was actually played with the +'Zorzi' as leading gentleman? All these things must remain problematical +for Mantovani cannot tell, and the Marquesa del Puente will not if indeed +she knows. + + + + +THE LOMBARD RUNES + + +Professor Hauptmann dropped wearily into his chair at the noisy Milanese +_table d'hôte_ and snarled out a surly "_Mahlzeit_" to the assembled +feasters. It was echoed sweetly from his left with a languishing +"_Mahlzeit, Herr Professor_." The advance disconcerted him. Resolving +upon a policy of complete indifference to the fluffy and amiable vision +beside him, he devoted himself singly to the food. The _risotto_ +diminished as his knife travelled rhythmically between the plate and his +bearded lips. Conceding only the inevitable, nay the exacted courtesies +to his neighbour, he performed still greater prodigies with the green +peas, and it was not until he leaned back for a deft operation with a +pocket comb, that the vivacious, blue-eyed one got her chance to ask if +it were not the Herr Professor Hauptmann, the great authority on the +Lombard tongue. The query floored him; he could not deny that it was, and +as curlylocks began to evince an intelligent interest in Lombard matters, +his stiffness melted like wax under a burning glass. He was soon if not +the protagonist at least the object of an animated, yes fairly intimate +conversation. + +To non-German eyes the pair were worth looking at. He was clad in +tightfitting sage-green felt, so it appeared, with a superfluity of +straps, buttons, lacings, and harness of all sorts. A conical Tyrol hat +garnished with a cock's plume and faded violets was crushed between his +back and that of the chair. As his large nervous feet reached for the +chairlegs below, one could see an expanse of moss-green stockings, only +half concealed at the extremities by resplendent yellow sandals. Bearded +and moustached after the military fashion, nothing betrayed the professor +except the myopic droop of the head. As for Fraülein Linda Göritz, no +mere man may adequately describe her. A German new woman of the artistic +stamp, she was pastelling through Lombardy where the Professor was +archeologising. Short, crisp curls gathered about her boyish head. Her +general effect was of a plump bonniness that might yield agreeably to an +audacious arm. She cultivated an aggressive pertness that would have +seemed vulgar, had it not been redeemed by something merely frank and +German. Shortskirted, she wore a high-strapped variant of the prevalent +sandals. The sides of her blue bolero were adorned with stilted yellow +lilies in the top of the Viennese new-art mode. In front her shirtwaist +appeared cool and white, at the sleeves it flowered alarmingly into +something like an India shawl. A string of massive amethysts completed a +discord as elaborate as a harmony of Richard Strauss. Her whole +impression was almost as inviting as it was grotesque. One could not chat +with her without liking her, and it is to be suspected that only a very +guileless or austere male could like her without proceeding to manifest +attentions. + +By the cheese, she had captured her amazed professor, and then she +carried him off bodily for coffee in the Arcade. He talked little, but it +didn't matter, for she talked much and well. Nor could a provincial Saxon +scholar be quite indifferent at finding himself known to an intelligent +and much travelled Viennese. A cousin, it appeared, had followed his +lectures and had highly extolled the ingenuity of his phonology of the +Lombard tongue, a language which was, she must remember--a hesitating +pause--yes, surely East--"East Germanic, Ja wohl!" responded the +Professor thunderously, though idiots had written to the contrary. And +then he told her at length the reasons why, until she pleaded her early +morning sketching and firmly bound him to accompany her the next +afternoon to the Certosa of Pavia. The Herr Professor rarely paid much +attention to hands, but as he held Fraülein Göritz's for Good Night he +could not but note that it was soft and filled his big grip so well that +he was sorry when it was gone. He dismissed the observation, however, as +unworthy a philologer and went to sleep pondering a new destruction for +the knaves who held the Lombard tongue to be not East but West Germanic. + +And here, to appreciate the weight and importance of Linda's fish, a +little explanation is necessary. Hauptmann was not merely a philologer, +which is a formidable thing in itself, but he belonged to the esoteric +group that deals with languages which have no literature. As he had often +remarked, any fool could compile a grammar of a language that has left +extensive documents; the process was almost mechanical, but to +reconstruct a grammar of a language that has left practically no remains, +that required acumen. Hauptmann did not belong, however, to the +transcendental school that creates purely inferential languages--East +Germanic and West, General Teutonic, Original Slavic, Indo-European and +the like. These are the _Dii majores_ and their inventions are as +complete as if one should detect, say, the relation of the little to the +big fleas not by the cunning use of the microscope but by sheer +inference. This larger game Hauptmann sagaciously left to others, ranging +himself with those who piece together the scanty and uncertain fragments +of languages that have existed but have failed to perpetuate themselves +in documents and inscriptions. Vandalic had powerfully allured him, and +so had Old Burgundian: he had had designs also upon Visigothic, and had +finally chosen Lombard rather than the others because the material was +not merely defective but also delightfully vague, affording a wide +opportunity for genuine philological insight. And indeed to classify a +language on the basis of a phrase scratched on a brooch, the +misquotations of alien chroniclers, the shifting forms of misspelled +proper names, is a task compared with which the fabled reconstruction of +leviathan from a single bone is mere child's play. + +From the mere scraps and hints of Lombard words in Paul the Deacon and +other historians anybody but a German would have declined to draw any +conclusion whatever. But just as every German citizen however humble, +becomes eventually a privy counsellor, a knight of various eagles of +diverse classes, an overstationmaster, or a royal postman, so German +science for the past hundred years has permitted no fact to languish in +its native insignificance. All have been promoted to be the sponsors of +imposing theories. And Hauptmann's theory, which got him the degree of +Ph.D., _maxima cum laude_, was that Lombard is an East Germanic tongue. +This he simple intuited, needing the degree, for the fifty mangled +Lombard words displayed none of those consonants which tending to double +or of those vowels which still vexing us as umlauts, mark a language as +belonging to the great Eastern or Western group. But Hauptmann was first +in the field, and if it was impossible for him to demonstrate that he was +right, it was equally impossible for anybody else to prove that he was +wrong. So he stood his ground and by dint of continually hitting the same +nail on the same head he had so greatly flourished that he was mentioned +respectfully as far as the Lombard tongue was known, and at thirty-four +had passed from the honourable but unpaid condition of Privat-dozent to +that of Professor Extraordinarius. + +Now if the Lombards, having ignominiously taken to Latin after their +descent upon Italy, had had to wait for Hauptmann to provide them with a +language, they had left certain more substantial traces of themselves in +the valley of the Po. They died and were buried in state with their arms +and utensils for the other world. So that, while one might well be in +doubt whether an inscription was Lombard or not, an antiquary will tell +you without fail whether a clasp, a spearhead or a sword is or is not the +work of this conquering but too adaptable race. In these archaeological +matters Hauptmann took a forced and languid interest. During nightmarish +hours, when the beer and cheese had not mingled aright, he was haunted by +lines of Lombard runes. Sometimes they were East Germanic, and that was a +grief, taking, as it were, the bloom from the guess that had made him +great; and again they were West Germanic, and that was awful, the +hallucination ending in a mortal struggle with the feather bed under +which German science is incubated, and passing off with an anguished +"Donnerwetter! It cannot be Lombard. It is not possible." His not +infrequent Italian trips had, then, an archaeological pretext, and this +had been more or less the purpose of the pilgrimage in which Fraülein +Linda had become by main force an alluring if disquieting incident. + +If there is anywhere in the world a more satisfactory sight than the +Pavian Certosa, certainly neither Hauptmann nor his chance acquaintance +had ever seen it. And indeed is there anywhere else such spaciousness of +cloisters, such profusion of minutely cut marble, such incrustation, for +better or worse, of semiprecious stones. Surely nothing in a sightseeing +way approaches it as a money's worth. Fraülein Linda, a superior person +who had begun to entertain doubts as to the externals of modern Austrian +palaces and the internals of new German liners, reserved her enthusiasms +for the pale Borgonones so strangely misplaced amid all that splendour. +Hauptmann, on the contrary, admired it all impartially. The sense of bulk +and inordinate expensiveness made him for a moment almost regret that +these later Lombards who reared this pile were not of the same race-stock +with himself. There was a moment in which he could have claimed them, had +principle permitted, as West Germans. Rather he soon forgot the Lombards +in the alternate rapture and dismay aroused by the petulant yet strangely +winning personality beside him. Professor Hauptmann was used neither to +being contradicted nor managed by mere women folk, and this afternoon he +was undergoing both experiences simultaneously. It was with a feeling of +relief that he left the Certosa, which seemed in a way her territory, and +started out with her upon the neutral highroad that led to the station. +They lingered, for the hour was propitious, and their plan was to kill an +hour or so before the evening train. As the glow came over the lowlying +fields, the weary forms of the labourers began to fill the road. At a +distance Hauptmann perceived one who importunately offered a small object +to the sightseers and was as regularly repulsed. Without waiting for the +professor, who stood at attention while Fraülein Linda sketched, this +beggar or pedlar approached and prayed to be allowed to show a rare and +veritable object of antiquity. A gruff refusal had already been given +when she pleaded that they hear the peasant talk, and inspect his +treasure. "Who knows, Herr Professor, but it might be Lombard?" "Wohlan," +he replied, and sullenly took the proffered spearhead. It was of iron, +patined rather than rusted, Lombard in form, and of evident antiquity. +Hauptmann gave it a nearsighted look and was about to return it +contemptuously when the peasant urged, "But look again, sir, there are +letters, a rarity." "I dare you to read them," cried Fraülein Linda, and +the Professor read painfully and copied roughly in his notebook a short +inscription in some Runic alphabet. A scowl followed the reading and the +abrupt challenge "Where did you find this piece?" "In the fields, +digging, Padrone," was the answer, "where I dug up also this," displaying +a bronze clasp of unquestionable Lombard workmanship. "Bravo," exclaimed +Linda, "now perhaps we shall know more about your dear Lombards. I +congratulate you, Herr Professor, from the heart." "Aber nein," he +growled back, "there were monuments enough already, and this is only a +bore, for I must buy and publish it. Others too may be found in the same +field, and Lombard will become a popular pastime. It is disgusting; +compassionate me. It was the single language that permitted truly +a-priori approach. It would be almost a duty to suppress these accursed +runes for the sake of scientific method. But no; the harm is done. We +must be patient." + +What the Herr Professor said and continued to say as he drove a hard +bargain with the peasant was but half the story. A glance at the runes +had shown an awful double consonant, and, as if that were not enough, an +appalling modified vowel. By a single word scratched by the untutored +hand of a rude warrior the most ingenious linguistic hypothesis of our +times was shattered beyond hope of repair. The spearhead was Lombard, +and Lombard, dire reflection to one who had gained fame by maintaining +the contrary, belonged to the West Germanic group of the Teutonic +tongues. Wild thoughts went through his head. He recalled that Paris had +seemed worth a mass, and considered a plenary retraction with a +facsimile publication of the runes. But as he pondered this course the +inexpediency of sacrificing so fair a theory to this mere brute fact +seemed indisputable. He thought also of ascribing the doubled consonant +and the modified vowel to the illiterate blundering of the spearman who +chiselled the letters. But as his fingers traced the sharp and +purposeful strokes he realised that such a contention would be laughed +out of the philological court. For a mad moment he thought of destroying +the miserable bit of iron, but in the first place that was in itself +difficult, and then the chattering lady at his side knew that he was in +possession of a Runic inscription, probably Lombard. She was widely +connected and would certainly babble in the very city where his bitter +rival Professor Anlaut had maintained that Lombard was West Germanic. As +Hauptmann noticed that the road had become deserted, that the dusk had +increased, and that Fraülein Linda's observations on the luckiness of +the "find" were interminable, a homicidal fancy just grazed the border +of his agitated consciousness. But no, that would not do either; the +scientific conscience forbade the destruction of any datum however +embarrassing. Destroy the spearhead he could not, and with a flash of +intuition it came over him that it must simply be lost as promptly and +hopelessly as possible. + +But this too was by no means easy. As they strolled down the road, ditch +after ditch in the lower fields presented itself as apt for the purpose, +but never the favourable moment. In fact Fraülein Linda's talk came back +to the accursed runes with exasperating persistency. They would confirm +his theory. She was happy in being present at this auspicious discovery. +It would be a cause wherefore she should not wholly be forgotten. It was +this sentimental hint that gave a reasonable hope of taking her mind off +the runes, and the harassed philologer set himself resolutely to the +task. For her slight advances he found bolder responses, and still +scanning the irrigating ditches closely for an especially oozy bottom, he +expatiated on the loveliness of the afterglow and confirmed the +recollection of last evening that Fraülein Linda's dimpled hand might be +an eminently pleasant thing to hold. Thus gradually she was won from the +Lombard runes to more personal interests, and as in the slow progress +towards the station they neared a bridge, Hauptmann divined the spot +where the East Germanic hypothesis lately in peril of death might receive +an indefinite reprieve. + +He found Linda, as he now called her, neither disinclined to sit on the +parapet nor to receive the support of his arm. Her chatter had dwindled +to sighs and exclamations. He felt the need of a competing sound as the +chug of the spearhead in the ditch should announce the discomfiture of +the West Germans. But before committing the telltale runes to this +ditch, Hauptmann scanned it carefully over Linda's curly head, and +considered thoughtfully its worthiness to receive so important a +deposit. The survey could not have been more reassuring. Like so many of +the main irrigating ditches that carry the water of Father Po and his +tributaries to the lower fields, the sluggish stream consisted equally +of water, weeds, and ooze. No Lombard or other object held in that +mixture was likely soon to be found. There was a moment of tense silence +and then a single plucking sound which various eavesdroppers might have +located at the surface of the ditch or near Linda's plump left cheek. +Neither guess would have been wrong, for if she sighed once more it was +not for the vanishing Lombard runes. + +Fraülein Linda Göritz is, if something of a sentimentalist, also a bit of +an analyst, and when, in the train, she learned that the spearhead was +lost she accepted Hauptmann's cheerful comment with a certain scepticism. +He insisted with a suspicious vivacity that it didn't matter, that indeed +he preferred to have the merely professional reminiscence eliminated from +an experience that had personally moved him so deeply. To this reading of +the affair she naturally could not object, but as she gave him her hand +quite formally for farewell, she said: "To-night you have forgotten the +runes, tomorrow you forget me, nicht wahr? You are wrong. Them you will +not find again: there are many of me. You should have forgotten me +first." She escaped while a protest was on his lips. + +Since that evening Fraülein Göritz has followed Professor Hauptmann's +brilliant career with a certain interest and perplexity. He has ceased to +be an Extraordinarius, but his promotion was based on his ingenious +researches in Vandalic. After that trip to the Certosa he discontinued +all Lombard studies, and, it is said, actually withdrew from publication +a scathing article in which the West Germanic contingent were handled +according to their deserts. She has a vague and not wholly comfortable +feeling of having counted for something as a deterrent, and she has been +heard to hint that his strange distaste for his favourite Lombard +investigations, is due to a deep and intimates cause--an unfortunate +affair of the heart associated with that historic region. + + + + +THEIR CROSS + + +How their cross reached Fourth Avenue one may only surmise, but there +surely was knavery at some point of its transit. It was too splendid in +its enamelling, too subtle in the chiselling of its gilded silver to have +slipped into the byways of the antiquary's trade with the consent of the +Tuscan bishop who controlled or should have controlled its sale. For the +matter of that, it still contained one of St. Lucy's knuckles, which in +case of a regular transaction would have been transferred to a less +precious reliquary. No, there must have been a pilfering sacristan, or +worse, a faithless priest, to explain its translation from the Chianti +hills to Novelli's shop in Fourth Avenue. + +Once there it was certain that one day or another John Baxter must find +it. How he became infected with the collector's greed and acquired the +occult knowledge that feeds that malady it would take too long to tell. +Yet it may be said that the yearning amateur was about the only potent +ingredient in the mild composite that was John Baxter. His eyes, skin, +hair, and raiment had never seemed of any particular colour, nor did he +as a whole seem of any especial size. His parents, who were neither rich +nor poor, cultured nor the contrary, had sent him to an indifferent +school and college. In the latter he had joined a middling chapter of a +poorish fraternity, and, was graduated with a rank that was neither high +nor low. During those four easy going years he had played halfhearted +baseball and football, and had all but made the "Literary Monthly." + +On entering the world, as the phrase goes, he came into possession of a +small patrimony and accepted a minor editorial position on a feeble +religious monthly. For the ensuing fifteen years John Baxter overtly read +manuscripts, composed headlines for edifying extracts, even wrote +didactic little articles on his own account. Secretly, meanwhile, the +lust of the eye was claiming him, and he was becoming surcharged with a +single great passion. + +His ascent through books, prints, Colonial furniture, miniatures, rugs, +and European porcelain to the dizzy heights of Chinese porcelain and +Japanese pottery and painting, it would be tedious and unprofitable to +follow. It is enough to say that all along the course his dull grey eye +emphatically proved itself the one thing not mediocre about him. It +grasped the quality of a fine thing unerringly; it sensed a stray good +porcelain from the back row of the auction room. How he knew without +knowing why was a mystery to his fellows and even to himself. For if he +frequented the museums of New York, and had made one memorable pilgrimage +to the Oriental collections of Boston, he was quite without travel, and +his education had been chiefly that of the shops and salesrooms. Thus his +finds represented less knowledge than an active faith which served as +well. A Gubbio lustre jug of museum rank had been bought before he knew +the definition of majolica. Before he had learned the peril of such a +hazard he had fearlessly rescued a real Kirman mat from an omnibus sale. +His scraps of old Chinese bronze and stoneware represented the promptings +of a demon who had yet to discover the difference between Sung and +Yungching. + +These achievements gave John Baxter a certain notoriety in his world and +the unusual luxury of self esteem. What brought him the scorn of blunter +associates, who openly derided him as a crank, assured him a certain +deference from the _cognoscenti_. The small dealers respected him as an +authority; the auctioneers greeted him by name as he slipped into his +chair, and appealed to him personally when a fine lot hung shamefully. He +had the entrée at two or three of the more discerning among the great +dealers, who occasionally asked his opinion or gave him a bargain. In +short a really impressive John as he sees himself was growing up within +the skin of poor John Baxter, feeble scribbler for the weak-kneed +religious press. As he looked about his cluttered room of an evening he +could whisper proudly, "No, it's not a collection, but I can wait. And +there is meanwhile nothing in this room that is not good, very good of +its type." Sometimes in more expansive musings he would take out of its +brocaded bag a wooden tobacco box artfully incrusted with lacquer, +pewter, and mother of pearl, the work of the great Kôrin, and would +declare aloud, "Nobody has anything better than this, no museum, +certainly no mere millionaire." + +Such days and nights had fed an already inordinate craving. He burned +for the beautiful things just beyond his grasp, suffered for them amid +his morning moralisings, dreamt of them at night. His was never the +disinterested love of the beautiful that certain lucky collectors retain +through all the sordidness of the quest. Had you observed John in the +auction room you would have felt something concentratedly feline in his +attitude and would hardly have been surprised had he pounced bodily upon +a fine object as it passed near him down the aisle. No other ghost of +the auction rooms--and strange enthusiasts they are, had an eye that +gleamed with so ominous a fire. There is peril in turning even a weak +will into a narrow channel. It may exert amazing pressures--like the +slender column of mere water that lifts a loaded car to, or with bad +direction, through, the roof. + + * * * * * + +Whether we should call John Baxter's courtship and marriage a digression +or the culmination of his career as a collector might have remained +doubtful were it not for the cross in Fourth Avenue. When he found it, +hardly a week before he met Miriam Trent, he naturally did not take it +for a touchstone. That it was in a manner such, may be inferred from the +fact that the anxious morning before the wedding, he stopped at Novelli's +for a last look, a ceremony strangely parodying the bachelor supper of +more ordinary bridegrooms. After a lingering survey of its deep +translucent enamels penned within crisply chiselled silver, like tiny +lakes rimmed by ledges, he handed the cross back to the reverent Novelli. +It had never looked more desirable, he barely heard Novelli's genial +congratulation on the coming of the great day, as he wondered how so +splendid a rarity had stayed in that little shop for two years. On +reflection the reason was simple. The price, six hundred dollars, was a +shade high for another dealer to pay, while the cross itself was so fine +an object as merely to excite the distrust of Novelli's average +customers. "Fools," muttered John, "how little they know," and hurried +towards the florist's. As he made his way back towards an impressive +frock-coat, his first, he found himself recalling with a certain +satisfaction that even if this were not his wedding day, he really never +could have hoped to buy the cross. + +What Miriam Trent would have thought had she learned that her bridegroom +waived all comparison between herself and the cross only because it was +unattainable, one may hardly surmise. But as a sensible person who +already knew John's foible and was accustomed to making allowances, she +possibly would have been amused and just a bit relieved. She was +everything that he was not. Where one passion absorbed him, she gave +herself gladly to many interests and duties. A second mother to her +numerous small brothers and sisters, and to her amiable inefficient +father as well, she had somehow managed school and college for herself, +and in accepting John and his worldly goods she gave up a decently paid +library position. The insides of books were also familiar to her, in +impersonal concerns she had a shrewd sense of people, in general she +faced the world with a brave and delicate assurance. Finally she believed +with fervour the creed and ethics that John happened to inculcate every +week, and it is to be feared that she took him for a prophet of +righteousness. Armed at all points that did not involve her personal +interests, there was she peculiarly vulnerable. She must have accepted +John, aside from the glamour of his edifying articles, simply because of +his evident and plaintively reasserted need of her. + +Yet they were very happy together, as people who marry on this unequal +basis often are. After their panoramic week at Niagara, along the St. +Lawrence, and home by the two lakes and the Hudson, they settled down in +John's room, which by the addition of two more had been promoted to being +the living room of an apartment. Her few personal possessions made a +timid, tolerated appearance between his gilt Buddhas and pewter jugs. But +she herself queened it easily over the bizarre possessions now become +hers. Had you seen her of an evening, alert, fragile, golden under the +lamp, and had you seen John's vague glance turn from a moongrey row of +Korean bowls to her deeper eyes, you would have been convinced not merely +that he regarded her as the finest object in his collection, but also +that he was right. It would be intrusive to dwell upon the joys and +sorrows of light housekeeping in New York on a small income. Enough to +say that the joys preponderated in this case. They read much together, he +gradually cultivated an awkward acquaintance with her friends--he had +practically none, and at times she made the rounds of the curiosity shops +and auctions with him. Here, she explained, her part was that of +discourager of enthusiasm, but repression was never practised in a more +sympathetic and discerning spirit. Her taste became hardly inferior to +his, and their barren quests together established a new comradeship +between them. It was probably, then, merely an accident that he never +included Novelli's in these aimless rounds, and so never showed her the +enamelled cross. + +In the long run their imaginary foraging, always a recreation to her, +became a sore trial to him. With the demonstration that two really cannot +live cheaper than one, the old covetousness smouldering for want of an +outlet once more burned hotly within. It expressed itself outwardly in a +general uneasiness and irritability. The little fund, her money and his, +that lay in savings bank began to spend itself fantastically. One day he +reckoned that two-thirds of the cross had been put by, and banished the +disloyal thought with difficulty. Visionary plans of selling something +and making the collection pay for itself were entertained, but when it +came to the point nothing could be spared. Perhaps the gnawings of this +hunger might have been controlled, had he thought to confide in Miriam. +More likely yet, a system of rare and strictly limited indulgence might +have banked the fires between times. However that be, the thwarted +collector was to be sunk for a time in the devoted husband. Miriam lay +ill of a wasting fever. + +After a two days' trial of the rooms, the doctor and the trained nurse, +who scornfully slept amid the collection, regarding it as a permanent +centre of infection, declared the situation impossible, and with the +slightest preliminary consultation of bewildered John, white-coated men +were sent for, who carried Miriam to the hospital. About her door John +hung like a miserable debarred ghost, for after the first few days her +mind wandered painfully, and his presence excited her dangerously. For +weeks he vacillated between perfunctory work at the office, +unsatisfactory talks with busy doctors and impatient nurses, and long +apprehensive hours in what had been home. In "Little Venice," in the best +powder-blue jar and the rest, he found no solace, on the contrary, the +occasion of revolting suggestions. There was an imp that whispered that +she must die and that he should resume collecting. With horror he fled +the evil place, and spent an endless night on tolerance within hearing of +her moanings. + +Fevers have this of merciful, that a term is set for them. Her malady +though it often maims cruelly rarely kills. The temperature line on the +chart, which for days had described a Himalaya, dwindled suddenly to a +Sierra, as quickly to an Appalachian, and then became a level plain. +Terribly wracked by the ordeal but safe they pronounced her. The visiting +physician occasionally omitted her in his daily round. But convalescence +was more trying than the struggle with the fever. The lethargic hours +seldom brought either sleep or rest. Beset by nervous fears, the +collective suffering of the giant building weighed upon her, and she +begged to be taken home. + +It was a pathetic triumphal entry that she made among their household +gods. The sheer grotesqueness of her home struck her painfully for the +first time, as she was helped to an ancient chair that stood before the +suspended Kirman rug--her throne John had always called it. As she once +more occupied it, there came a curious revulsion against her gorgeously +shabby domain. Other women, she reflected, had neat places, cool expanses +of wallpaper, furniture seemly set apart. She resented the stuffiness of +it all, the air of musty preciousness that pervaded the room. And when +John took both her hands and said: "Now the collection is itself again; +the queen has come home," she broke down and cried. She did much of that +in the weeks that followed. You would have supposed her another person +than plucky Miriam Baxter. But the situation hardly made for +cheerfulness. Light housekeeping being no longer practicable, they +depended on the unwilling ministrations of a slovenly maid. John, who, to +do him justice, had never boasted much surplus vitality, felt vaguely +that something was now due from him that he could not supply. To escape +an inadequacy that was painful he drifted back to the exhibitions and +sales, this time alone. He never bought anything, for he was saving +manfully for a purpose that daily increased in his mind. He would pay +with his pocketbook what with his person he could not. + +His always modest luncheon reduced itself to a sandwich, he walked to +save carfares, cut off two Sunday newspapers, wore a threadbare spring +overcoat into the winter. Then one day he took Miriam to a famous +specialist from whom they learned very much what they already knew, but +with the advantage of working orders. The great man told John in brief +that it was a bad recovery which might readily become worse. A change and +open air life were imperative; a sea voyage would be best. If such a +change were not made, and soon, he would not be answerable for the +consequences. + +All this John retold in softened form to Miriam in the waiting room. "We +might as well give it up," she said resignedly. "Of course we can't +travel. We haven't the money, and you can't get away." With the nearest +approach to pride he had ever shown in a nonaesthetic matter John +protested that he could get away, and better yet that there was money, +five hundred good dollars, more than enough for a glimpse at the Azores +and Gibraltar, a hint of rocky Sardinia, a day at Naples, a quiet +fortnight on the sunny Genoese Riviera, and then home again by the long +sea route. His thin voice rose as he pictured the voyage. Even she +caught something of his spirits, and as they got off the car near +Novelli's, by a sudden inspiration John said, "Now for being a good +girl, and doing what the doctor says, you shall see the most beautiful +thing in New York." + +In a minute Novelli was carefully taking the precious thing from its +drawer and solemnly unfolding the square of ruby velvet in which it lay. +Miriam saw the rigid Christ, at the left Mary Mother in azure enamel, at +the right the Beloved Apostle in Crimson. From the top God Father sent +down the pearly dove through the blue. Below, a stately pelican offered +its bleeding breast to the eager bills of its young. And it all glowed +translucently within its sharp Gothic mouldings. Behind, the design was +simpler--in enamelled discs the symbols of the evangelists. St. Lucy's +knuckle lay visible under a crystal lens at the crossing, and surely +relic of a saint was seldom encased more splendidly. Even pathetic Miriam +kindled to it. "Yes, it is the most beautiful thing in New York," she +admitted. "I suppose it costs a fortune, Mr. Novelli." "No, a mere +nothing, for it, six hundred dollars." "Why, we might almost buy it," she +cried. "It's lucky you haven't saved more, John. I really believe you +would buy it." "I'd like to sell it to Mr. Baxter," said Novelli, "he +understands it," only to be cut short with a brusque, "No, it's out of +our class, but I wanted Mrs. Baxter to see it, and I wanted you to know +that she appreciates a fine object as much as I do." "Evidently," said +Novelli as they parted. "I hope she will do me the honour of coming in +often; there are few who understand, and whether they buy or not I am +always glad to have them in my place." + +About a week later John Baxter closed and locked his office desk, hurried +down to the savings bank, and drew five hundred dollars. Most of it was +to go into steamer tickets forthwith, a little balance was to be changed +into Italian money. As he meditated a route downtown, he recalled the +only adieu still left unpaid. To be sure the cross had remained for three +years at Novelli's but it might go forever any day, and with it a great +resource for a weary moralist. Farewells were plainly in order, and with +no other thought he walked back to the shop and greeted Novelli, who +without waiting to be asked produced the crimson parcel that contained +the precious relic. As John looked it over from panel to panel, as if to +stamp every composition upon his memory, Novelli watched him, reflected, +hesitated, smiled benevolently, and spoke. "Mr. Baxter, I am in great +need of money and must sacrifice the cross. I want you to take it. +Vogelstein has offered me four hundred and fifty dollars for it but he +shall not have it if I can sell it to anybody who deserves it better and +will value it. It is yours at that price. What do you say?" + +John tried for words that failed to come. + +"It's a bargain, Mr. Baxter," pursued Novelli, "but of course if you +don't happen to have the money there's nothing more to say." + +"But I have it right here," retorted John in perplexity, "only it's for +quite a different purpose." + +"You know your own business, of course, and I don't urge you, but if you +have the money and don't take it, you make a great mistake. You know that +well enough, and then remember how Mrs. Baxter admired it the other day." + +"Yes-s," faltered John dubiously. + +"Then why do you hesitate? You know what it is, and what it is worth, as +an investment, I mean. By taking your time and selling it right you can +surely double your money." + +"But"-- + +"No, there it is. I am honestly doing you a favour," and Novelli thrust +the swathed cross into the hands of his fairly hypnotised customer. +John's left hand clutched it instinctively, while with the frightened +fingers of his right he counted off nine fifty dollar bills. + +"Thank you, Mr. Baxter, neither you nor your wife will ever regret it. +Nobody in America has anything finer, and that you know." + +These words pounded terribly in John's brain as he found his way home, +stumbled up stairs, and boggled with the latchkey. All the way down, +unheeded passersby had wondered at the crimson burden (he had not waited +for a parcel to be made) hugged closely to the shabby black cutaway. The +danger signal smote Miriam in the eyes as she rose to be kissed. Standing +away from her, he placed the shrouded cross on the table and tried for +the confession that would not say itself. + +"Why, it's our cross," she cried wonderingly. "Mr. Novelli has lent it to +us for a last look before we go where the lovely thing was made. But, +John, what's the matter? How you do look! Has something awful happened?" + +"Yes," and the pale nondescript head sunk into his hands. "I have bought +it. I don't know how. I had the money, I was there, and I bought it." + +She repressed the word that was on her lips, and the harder thought that +was in her mind, looked long at his humiliation until the pity of a +mother came over her tired face. She had mercifully escaped scorning him. +Then she spoke. + +"It was a bad time to buy it, wasn't it, Dear, but it is a beautiful +thing, almost worth a real trip to Italy." She added with a curious air +of a suppliant, "And then perhaps we can sell it." + +"Yes, that's so, perhaps we can sell it," echoed John listlessly, +wrapping the cross closely in its crimson cover and laying it in his most +treasured lacquer box. "Yes, perhaps we can sell it," he repeated, and +there was a long silence between them. + + + + +THE MISSING ST. MICHAEL + + +Dennis, our Epicurean sage, addressed us all as we lolled on his terrace, +drank his tea, and divided our attention between his fluent wisdom and +his spacious view of the Valdarno. + +"The question is," he repeated, "what will Emma do? Will she be brave, +or, rather ordinary enough, to act for herself and him, or will she +refuse him because of what she thinks we shall think of them both? As we +calmly sit here she may be deciding. That is if you are sure, Harwood, +that Crocker was really bound for Emma's when you saw him." + +"How could anybody mistake his beaming Emma face?" growled Harwood. "He +was marching like a squad of Bersaglieri." "And she knows that Crocker +wants it terribly?" added the Sage's wife. + +"She does, indeed," sighed Frau Stern repentantly, "for that demon +(pointing to Harwood) did tell me and I haf, babylike, told her." + +"Here is the case, then," resumed Dennis: "She knows we know Crocker +wants her and it, but she doesn't know he doesn't know she has it." + +"Precisely, most clearly and gracefully put, my dear," laughed +Mrs. Dennis. + +"And she knows, too," he pursued imperturbably, "that we may think he +wants her merely for it." + +"Bravo!" puffed Harwood smokily from his camp-stool. "She is too clever +to expect any weak generosity from any of us. She believes we will think +the worst. And won't we? Viva Nietzsche, and perish pity!" + +"Shame upon us, then," cried Frau Stern. "She will gif up that fine young +man for fear of our talk? Never!" + +"She will send him away, dear Frau Stern, the moment he gives her the +chance," declared Dennis. "What else can she do? She can never take the +chance of our surmises. Behold us, the destroyers! The victims are +prepared." + +"Can't we do something about it?" Harwood chuckled. "Repent? Be as +harmless as doves? Let's write a roundrobin solemnly stating that, to +the best of our knowledge and belief, he wants her for herself and +not for it." + +"Gently," exclaimed Mrs. Dennis, as she blew out Harwood's poised and +lighted match. "You surely don't imagine Crocker will propose the very +day she shows it to him." + +"My dear," protested Dennis, "don't we all know him well enough to +understand that any shock will produce that effect? If his mother died or +his horse, his vines got the scale, his Ghirlandaio sprung a crack, his +university gave him an honorary degree--these would all be reasons for +proposing to Emma. Dear old Crocker is like that; any jolt would affect +him that way." + +"Has it occurred to anybody that Emma may have foreseen just this +complication and quietly got rid of it first?" suggested Mrs. Dennis, the +really practical member of our group, adding, "That's how I'd have served +you if I'd wanted him." + +"Never," responded Dennis. "She loves it too well, and then she would +feel we felt she had spirited it away on purpose." + +"Besides," continued Harwood, whose buried aspirations Emmawards had long +ago flowered into a minute analysis of her moods, "she is true blue, you +know. She will never serve us like that. She may immolate the mighty +Crocker upon the altar of our collective curiosity, but she will never +dodge us." + +"Cannot we all go back to our own countries and leave them alone," +suggested Frau Stern almost tearfully; "but no; we no longer haf +countries. Here we belong; elsewhere the air is too strong for our little +lungs. I pity us, and I pity more those poor young people. If only they +will but haf the sense to trample on our talk." + +"That, too, would be a sensation," Dennis added cheerfully, and we went +our ways, as usual, without having reached anything so vulgar as a +conclusion. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Emma Verplanck stood in the _loggia_ of her tiny villa and +winced in the focus of the curiosities she despised. She scanned the +white road that rimmed her valley before descending sharply to Florence +beyond the hill, and especially the crescent of dust where an approaching +figure would first appear. Now and then, as if for a rest, her eye traced +the line of flaming willows down toward the plunge of her brook into the +larger valley, or the file of spectral poplars that led into the +vineyards hanging on the declivity of Fiesole. Above all, the gaunt and +gashed bulk of Monte Ceceri glistened hotly against a pale blue sky, for +if it was a backward April, the first stirring of summer was already in +the air. She thrilled with disgust as she asked herself why she dreaded +this call. Why should she fear lest an elementary test, a very simple +explanation such as she planned for that afternoon, should compromise an +established friendship? + +Interrupting this self-examination the mighty but unwieldy form of Morton +Crocker loomed in the white dust crescent, and his premature panama +swiftly followed the curve of the low grey wall towards her gate. As his +steps were heard, her mind flew to the forbidding St. Michael on his gold +background in her den and she could fairly hear Harwood saying to all of +us, "Three to one on the Saint, who takes me?" The jangling of the bell +recalled her to Crocker, and she braced herself in the full sunlight to +receive him. For a moment, as he loomed in the archway, she indulged that +especial pride which we reserve for that which we might possess but +austerely deny ourselves. + +Her mingled moods produced an unusual softness. Crocker felt it and +wondered as she gave him her hand and had him sit for a prudent moment +outside. All the hot way up the valley he had had a sense of a crisis. It +was odd to be summoned whither he had been drifting for four years, and +now the sight of Emma disarmed, perplexed him. It seemed ominous. One +finds such transparent kindness in clever people generally at parting, +when one would be remembered for one's self and not for a phrase. Then +Crocker for an instant glimpsed the wilder hope that the softening was +for him and not for an occasion. Emma had never seemed more desirable +than to-day. A white strand or two in her yellow hair, the tiny wrinkles +at the corners of her steady grey eyes, and the untimely thinness of her +long white fingers made him eager to ward off the advancing years at her +side, to keep unchanged, as it were, these precious evidences that she +had lived. + +Some sense of his tenderness she must have had, for as she chatted +gravely about his farming, about the lateness of the almond blossoms, +about everything except people, who always tempted her sharp tongue, her +manner became almost maternally solicitous. "To-day you shall have your +first tea in my den, Crocker" (so much she presumed on her two years' +seniority), she said at last, "and you are commanded to like my things." +"What has thy servitor done to deserve this grace?" he managed to reply. +"Nothing," she said, "graces never are for deserts. Or, rather, you poor +fellow, you have been asked to tramp out here in this glare and really +deserve to sit where it is cool." As they walked through the hall and the +little drawing-room Crocker still felt uneasily that no road with Emma +Verplanck could be quite as smooth as it seemed. + +The den deserved its name, being a tiny brown room with a single arched +window that looked askance at the cypresses and bell towers of Fiesole. +Beside a couch, an Empire desk, and solid shelves of books, the den +contained only a couple of chairs and the handful of things that Emma +laughingly called her collection. As Crocker took in vaguely bits of +Hispano-Moresque and mellow ivories, a broad medal or so and a +well-poised Renaissance bronze, a Japanese painting on the lighted wall, +and one or two drawings by great contemporaries, Emma's friends, he was +amazed at the quality of everything. A sense of extreme fastidiousness +rebuked, in a way, his more indiscriminate zeal as a collector. +Uncomfortably near him on the dark wall he began to be aware of something +marvellous on old gold when tea interrupted his observations. Tea with +Emma was always engrossing. The mere practice and etiquette of it brought +the gentlewoman in her into a lovely salience. Her hands and eyes became +magical, her talk light and constant without insistency. A symbolist +might imagine eternal correspondence between the amber brew and her sunny +hair. It was easy to adore Emma at tea, and generally she did not resent +a discreetly pronounced homage. But this afternoon she grew almost +petulant with Crocker as they talked at random, and finally laughed out +impatiently: "I really can't bear your ignoring my St Michael, especially +as you have never seen him before and may never see him again. St. +Michael, Mr. Morton Crocker." + +"My respects," smiled Crocker, as he turned lazily toward the gilded +panel. There was the warrior saint, his lines stiff, expressive and +hieratic, his armour glistening in grey-blue fastened with embossed +gilded clasps; here and there gorgeous hints of a crimson doublet--the +unmistakable enamel, the grave and delicate tension of a masterpiece by +the rare Venetian, Carlo Crivelli. Crocker gasped and started from his +seat, losing at once his cup, his muffin, and his manners. "By Jove, Miss +Verplanck, Emma, it's my missing St. Michael. Where did you ever find it? +I must have it." His toasted muffin rolled unconsidered beside the spoon +at his feet. Emma retrieved the cup--one of a precious six in old +Meissen--he retained the saucer painfully gripped in both hands. + +"I was afraid it was," she answered, "but look well and be sure." + +"Of course we must be sure. You'll let me measure it, won't you? It's the +only way." Assuming his permission he climbed awkwardly upon the chair, +happily a stout Italian construction, and as she watched him with a +strange pity, he read off from a pocket rule: "One metre thirty-seven. A +shade taller than mine, but there is no frame. Thirty-one centimetres; +the same thing. Yes, it is my missing St. Michael," and as he climbed +down excitedly he hurried on: "How strange to find it here. I never +talked to you about it, did I? That's odd, too. I've been hunting for it +for years. You didn't know, I suppose. I want it awfully. What can we do +about it?" For Crocker, this fairly amounted to a speech, and before +replying Emma gave him time to sit down, and thrust another cup of tea +into his unwilling hands. Having thus occupied and calmed him, she said, +"I'm very sorry, I hoped it would turn out to be something else. I only +learned last week that you wanted it. You have seldom talked about your +collecting to me. There's nothing to do about it. I wish there were. You +want it so much. But I can't give it to you. That wouldn't do. And I +won't sell it to you. I wouldn't to anybody, and then that wouldn't do, +either. So there we are. Only think of their talk, and you'll see the +situation is impossible." + +Crocker's eyes flashed. "There's a lot we might do about it if you will, +Emma. Damn the St. Michael. If his case is so complicated, and I don't +see it, leave him out of the reckoning between us. Can't you see what I +need and want?" + +"They wouldn't see it, and I'm shamefully afraid of them," she said +simply, and then she added indignantly, "How could you dare, to-day? I +can't trust you for any perception, can I?" + +Not perceiving that her scruple was belated, Crocker blurted out +ruefully. "I'm an ass, and I'm sorry and I'm not. It's what I have wanted +to say these many days, and perhaps it might as well be so. But I've +wounded you and for that I'm more than sorry." + +"Let's not talk about it," Emma said gently. "Of course I'll forgive an +old friend for saying a little more than he should. Only you must stop +here. You'll forgive me, too, for owning your St. Michael. I'm honestly +sorry it happened so. I would dismiss him if I could, for he is likely to +cost me a good friend. But he creates a kind of impossibility between us, +doesn't he, and for a while it's best you shouldn't come, not till things +change with you. It's kindest so, isn't it, Crocker?" + +There was more debate to this effect before the impassive St. Michael, +until at last Crocker agreed impatiently, "You're right, Emma, or at +least you have me at a disadvantage, which comes to the same thing. +And yet it's all wrong. You are putting a painted saint between yourself +and a friend who wants to be more. It's logical, but it isn't human. As +for their talk, they'll talk, anyhow, and we might as well stand it +together. I'm probably off for a long time, Emma. I hope you'll find your +St. Michael companionable. When you decide to throw him out of the +window, let me know. Forgive me again. Good-by." She gave him her hand +silently and followed him out into the _loggia_. As she watched him +striding angrily down the valley and away, she had the air of a woman who +would have cried if she were not Emma Verplanck. + + * * * * * + +Crocker was right, we all did talk. And naturally, for had we not all +been eagerly awaiting the collision announced by the cessation of his +visits and the rumour that he was bound north. In council on Dennis's +terrace, however, we came to no unanimous reading of the affair. +Generally, we felt that even if Emma wanted a way out, which we guessed +to be the fact, she would never expose herself to our batteries, and with +regret we opined that there was no way, had we wished, to divest +ourselves of our collective formidableness. On all sides we divined a +deadlock, with Dennis the only dissenting voice. He insisted scornfully +that we none of us knew Emma, that we underestimated both her emotional +capacity and her resourcefulness, and, finally, in a burst of rash +clairvoyancy he declared that she would give away both the St. Michael +and herself, but in her own time and manner, and with some odd personal +reservation that would content us all. We should see. + +Given the rare mixture of the conventional and instinctive that was Emma +Verplanck, something of the sort did indeed seem probable. For ten years +she had inhabited her nook, becoming as much of a fixture among us as the +Campanile below. She came, like so many, for the cheapness and dignity of +it primarily. Here her little patrimony meant independence, safety from +perfunctory and uncongenial contacts at home, and more positively all +those purtenances of the gentlewoman that she required. But, unlike the +merely thrifty Italianates, she never became blunted by our incessant tea +giving and receiving. With familiarity, the ineffable sweetness of the +country penetrated her with ever-new impressions. She loved the +overlapping blue hills that stretched away endlessly from the rim of her +valley, and the scarred crag that closed it from behind. She loved the +climbing white roads, her chalky brook--sung as a river by the early +poets--with its bordering poplars and willows and its processional +display of violets, anemones, primroses, blueflags, and roses. She loved +even better that constant passing trickle of fine intelligences which +feeds the Arno valley as her brook refreshed its vineyard. The best of +these came gladly to her, for she was an open and a disillusioned spirit, +with something of a man's downrightness under her sensitive appreciation. +Hers was the calm of a temperament fined but not dulled by conformity and +experience. Mrs. Dennis, whose sources of information were excellent, +said it was rather an unhappy girlish affair with an unworthy cousin. +Within the limits of the possible, the Verplancks always married cousins, +and Emma, it was thought, had in her 'teens paid sentimental homage to +the family tradition. In any case she remained surprisingly youthful +under her nearly forty years. Her capacity for intellectual adventure +seemed only to increase as she passed from the first glow to proved +impressions of books, art, persons, and the all-inclusive Tuscan nature. + +Her Stuyvesant Square aunts, who were authorities on self-sacrifice, +agreed that the only sacrifice Emma had made in a thoroughly selfish life +was the purchase of the St. Michael. She had found it, on a visit in +Romagna, in the hands of a noble family who knew its value and needed to +sell it, but dreaded the vulgarity of a transaction through the +antiquaries. To Emma, accordingly, whom they assumed to be rich, they +offered it at a price staggering for her, though still cheap for it. From +the first she had adored it. There had been a swift exchange of +despatches with New York, and the St. Michael went home with her to +Florence. After that adventure the small victoria, the stocky pony, and +the solemn coachman had never reappeared. Emma walked to teas or, when +she must, suffered the promiscuity of the trams. To those of us who knew +the store she set by her equipage its exchange for the St. Michael +indicated a fairly fanatical devotion. To her aunts it meant that she had +spent her principal, which, in their eyes, was an approximation to the +mysterious "sin against the Holy Ghost." + +It was Dennis who speculated most audaciously, and perhaps truly, about +the St. Michael. When he learned that Emma secreted it in her den, where +she rarely admitted anyone, he maintained that it had become her +incorporeal spouse. The daintiness with which it fingered a golden +sword-hilt, as if fearing contamination, symbolised the aloofness of her +spirit. The solitary enjoyment of a great impression of art made her den +a sanctuary, absolving her from commoner or shared pleasures. And in a +manner the Saint was the type of the ultra-virginal quality she had +retained through much contact with books and life. For her to sell the +St. Michael, Dennis felt, would be a sort of vending of her soul, to give +it away in the present instance would imply, he insisted, an instinctive +self-surrender of which he judged her incapable. + +To Crocker's side of the affair we gave very little thought, considering +that he, after all, had created the thrilling importance of the St. +Michael. But our general attitude toward the unwonted was one of +indifference, and Crocker was too unlike us to permit his orbit to be +calculated. The element of foible in him was almost null. None of our +guesses ever stuck to him, and we had grown weary of rediscovering that +anything so simple could also be so impermeable to our ingenuity. In a +word, Crocker's case was as much plainer than Emma's as noonday is than +twilight. When one says that he was born in Boston and from birth +dedicated to the Harvard nine, eleven, or crew--as it might befall; that +he was graduated a candidate for the right clubs, that he took to stocks +so naturally that he quickly and safely increased an ample inherited +fortune, and this without neglecting horse, or rod, or gun; finally that +he carried into maturity a fine boyish ease--when this has been said all +has been told about Morton Crocker except the whimsical chance that made +him an Italianate. + +Some reminiscence of his grand tour had beguiled a tedious convalescence +and, following the gleam for want of more serious occupation, he had set +sail for Naples with a motor-car in the hold. At thirty-three he brought +the keenness of a girl to the galleries, the towns, and the ineffable +whole thing. It was Tuscany that completed his capture. He bought a villa +and, as his strength came back, began to add new vineyards and orchards +to his estate. But this was his play; his serious work became collecting +and more particularly, as has been hinted, the quest of the missing St. +Michael. When he learned, as a man of means soon must, that good pictures +may still be bought in Italy, he promptly succumbed to the covetousness +of the collector, and the motor-car became predatory. Its tonneau had +contained surreptitious Lottos and Carpaccios. Its gyrations became an +object of interest to the Ministry of Public Instruction. Once on +crossing the Alps it had been searched to the linings. While Crocker had +his ups and downs as a collector, from the first his sense of reality +stood him in stead. Being a Bostonian he naturally studied, but even +before he at all knew why, he disregarded the pastiches and forgeries, +and made unhesitatingly for the good panel in an array of rubbish. + +It was this sense for reality that impelled him to settle where the rest +of us merely perched. Fifty _contadini_ tilled his domain and actually +began to earn out the costly improvements he had introduced. His wine and +oil were sought by those who knew and were willing to pay. In the +intervals of the major passion Crocker walked up and down the grassy +roads superintending the larger operations. His muscular and hulking +blondness--he had rowed four years--towered above the dark little men who +served, feared, and worshipped him. Unlike the rest of us who preferred +to live in a delightful Cloud Cuckoo Town, which happened to be Florence +also, he had chosen to take root in Tuscany. + +First he purged his castellated villa of the international abuses it had +undergone for a century. It had hardly regained its fifteenth century +spaciousness and simplicity before it began to fill up again, but this +time with pictures and fittings of the time. In all directions he bought +with enthusiasm, but his real vocation, after the cultivation of Emma's +society, soon came to be the completion of his great and growing +altar-piece by Carlo Crivelli. What is usually a frigid exercise, a mere +ascertainment that the parts of a scattered ancona are at London, Berlin, +St. Petersburg, Boston, etc.--a patient compilation of measurements, +documents and probabilities; what is generally a mere pretext for a solid +article in a heavy journal--or at best a question of pasting photographs +together in the order the artist intended--Crocker converted into an +eager and most practical pursuit. Bit by bit he gradually reconstituted +his Crivelli in its ancient glory of enamel on gold within its ornate +mouldings. The quest prospered capitally until he stuck hopelessly at the +missing St. Michael. As it stood for a couple of years complete except +for the void where the St. Michael should be, the altar-piece represented +less Crocker's abundant resources than his tireless patience and energy. +He had picked up the first fragment, a slender St. Catherine of +Alexandria demurely leaning upon her spiked wheel, at a provincial +antiquary's in Romagna, not far from where the ancona had been impiously +dismembered. Fortunately the original Gothic frame remained to give a +clue to other panels. Next, word of a Crivelli Madonna with Donors at +Christie's took him posthaste to London. Frame, period and measurements +proved that it was the central panel, and the tiny donors, a husband and +wife with a boy and girl, indicated that the wings had contained two +female and two male saints. Between the St. Lucy (which turned up more +than a year later in an un-heard-of Swedish collection, and was had only +by a hard exchange for a rare Lorenzo Monaco and a plausible Fra +Angelico) and the sumptuous St. Augustine, which was brought to the villa +in a barrow by a little dealer, there was a longer interval. Meanwhile +the frame had been reconstructed, and a niche for the missing saint rose +in melancholy emptiness. A little before the sensational _rencontre_ in +Emma's den, the chance of finding a rude pilgrim woodcut on the Quai +Voltaire revealed the saint's identity. This ugly print informed the +faithful that the "prodigious image" of Our Lady existed in the Church of +the Carmelites at Borgo San Liberale. One might distinguish at the +extreme right of the five compartments a willowy St. Michael in armour, +like Chaucer's Squire in a black-letter folio, or if the identification +had been doubtful, there was the name below in all letters. + +When the print was shown to the scheming Harwood over the afternoon +vermouth, he suspended a long discourse on the contemptible fate of being +born an Anglo-Saxon, and it came over him with a blessed shock that Emma +had the missing St. Michael. Penetrated by the joy of the situation, he +hesitated for a moment whether to give the initiative to the man or the +woman. A glance at Crocker's uncompromising sturdiness convinced him that +on that side the situation might be quickly exhausted. Emma he could +trust to do it full justice. Excusing himself abruptly, he made for Frau +Stern's lodgings, and with the taste of Crocker's vermouth still in his +faithless mouth, told her that Emma's Crivelli was no other than the +missing St. Michael. To make matters sure he solemnly bound Frau Stern to +secrecy. That accomplished, he strode whistling down through the purple +twilight to his well-earned _fritto_ at Paoli's. The next day began our +wondering what Emma would do. She did, as is known, a thing that her +simple Knickerbocker ancestresses would have approved--presented Crocker +to the St. Michael and left the decision modestly to the men. Behind the +frankness of her procedure lay, perhaps, a curiosity to see how Crocker +would bear himself in a delicate emergency. It was to be in some fashion +his ordeal. Thus she might at least shake the appalling equanimity with +which he had passed from the stage of comrade to that of suppliant. Not +that she doubted him; nobody did that, but she resented a little in +retrospect his silence on the subject of the great quest. Was it possible +that for these five years he had chatted only about his college pranks, +his fishing trips, his orchards and vineyards, and the views? As she +reviewed their countless walks and teas, it really seemed as if he had +never paid her the compliment of being impersonal. Well, that was ended +now at any rate. A little misgiving filled her that she had never +revealed the presence of the St. Michael to so good a play-fellow. A +delicacy, knowing his incorrigible zeal as a collector, had restrained +her, and then, as Dennis had guessed, her den was her sanctuary, +admission to which implied an intimacy difficult to concede. Whatever the +merits of the case, the rupture had produced in a milieu consumed by the +desire to guess what Emma would do, at least one person who was solely +interested in what Crocker's next move might be. For the first time in a +singularly calculable life he had become an object of genuine curiosity. + +He acted with his usual simplicity. To Emma he wrote a brief note +upbraiding her for fearing the voices of the valley, professing his +eagerness to return when the St. Michael had been put out of the +reckoning, and declaring that if it were not soon, he would willy-nilly +come back and see how things were between them. It was a letter that +wounded Emma, yet somehow warmed her, too, and from its reception we +found her in an unwonted attitude of nonconformity to the verdicts of the +valley. She began to speak up in behalf of this or that human specimen +under our diminishing lenses with the unsubtle and disconcerting +bluntness of Morton Crocker himself. The phenomenon kept alive our waning +interest during nearly a year of waiting. As for Crocker he gave it out +ostentatiously that he was bound for a wonderful Cima in Northumbria and +afterward was to try dry-fly fishing on the Itchen. Beyond that he had no +plans. All this was characteristically the truth; he bought the Cima, +wrote of his baskets to Harwood, but stayed away past his melons, his +grapes and his olives. By early winter we heard of him shooting the moose +in New Brunswick, and later planning a system of art education in the +Massachusetts schools, and it was not till the brisk days of March that +we learned the west wind was bringing him our way again. + +Meanwhile Emma had acquired a few more grey hairs and had resolutely +declined to dispossess herself of the St. Michael. A couple of months +after Crocker's leave-taking, a note had come to her from Crespi, the +unfrocked priest and consummate antiquarian, who, to the point of +improvising a _chef d'oeuvre_, will furnish anything that this gilded +age demands. Crespi most respectfully begged to represent an urgent +client, a Russian prince, who desired a fine Crivelli. Would the most +gentle Miss Verplanck haply part with hers? The price should be what she +chose to name. It was no question of money, but of obliging a client +whom Crespi could ill afford to disappoint. Emma curtly declined the +offer. The St. Michael was valued for personal reasons and was not for +sale. Six weeks later came a more insidious suggestion. The Director of +the Uffizi, learning that she possessed a masterpiece of a school +sparsely represented in the first Italian gallery, pleading that such an +object should not pass from Italy, and representing a number of generous +art-lovers who desired to add it to the collections under his care, made +the following offer, trusting, however, not to any pecuniary inducement +but to her loyalty as an honorary citizen of Florence. The price named +was something less than the London value, but its acceptance would have +perpetually endowed the victoria, and perhaps--. If the malicious +Harwood had not passed the word that the offer was a ruse of the wily +Crocker, we all believed that she would have accepted. Indeed, we +regretted her obduracy. It would have been such a capital way out, with +no sacrifice of her scruples nor waiver of our collective +impressiveness. So Harwood came in for mild reprehension, the Sage +Dennis remarking with some asperity that when the gods have provided us +with farces, comedies, and tragedies in from one to five acts it is +unseemly to string them out to six or seven. + +Early March, then, saw the deadlock unbroken. The St. Michael had not +been dislodged. Emma still was unwavering so far as we knew. We were +unable, had we willed, to divest ourselves of our deterrent attributes. +But the situation had changed to this extent that Crocker was said to be +on his way down to oversee a new system of spring tillage in person. + +Emma took his approach with something between terror and an unwonted +resignation. From the day when he had planted himself firmly beside her +fireplace with a boyish wonder at finding himself so much at home, he had +represented the incalculable in her carefully planned life. Declining to +accept the attitude of other people toward her, he had almost upset her +attitude toward herself. He was the first man since the scapegrace cousin +who had neither feared nor yet provoked her sharp tongue. While he +relished her wit, it had always been with an unspoken deprecation of its +cutting edge. He gave her a queer feeling of having allowances made for +her--a condescension that in anybody but this big, likable boy she would +have requited with sarcasm. But against him the _cheveux de frise_ she +successfully presented to the world seemed of no avail. He knew it was +not timber but twigs, and that at worst one was scratched and not +impaled. Day by day she watched the cropping of the long line of flaming +willow plumes that escorted her brook toward the level. The line dwindled +as the shorn pollards gave up their withes to bind the vines to the dwarf +maples. She felt the miles between herself and Crocker lessening, and (at +rare moments) her scruples ready to be garnered for some sweet and +ill-defined but surely serviceable use. But she would not have been Emma +Verplanck if the manner of her not impossible surrender had not troubled +her more than the act itself. Any lack of tact on the part of the +husbandman might still spoil things. She had a whimsical sense that any +one of the flaming willows might refuse its contribution to the vineyard +should the pruner approach with anything short of a persuasive "_con +permesso_." + +Crocker's "by your leave" was so far from persuasive that it left her +with a panicky desire to run away--again a new sensation. He wrote: + +"DEAR EMMA-- + +"We have had an endless year to think it over, and the only change on my +side is that I need you more than ever. I will go away for real reasons, +for your reasons, but for no others. If it is only their talk that +separates us, their talk has had twelve good months and shall have no +more. I must see you. May I come tomorrow at the old hour? + +"As always yours, + +"MORTON CROCKER." + +Something between wrath and dismay was the result of this challenge. She +sat down to answer him according to his impudence, and the words would +not come. The greatness of the required sacrifice came over her and +therewith the desire to temporise. The voice of many Knickerbocker +ancestresses spoke in her, and between herself and a real emergency she +interposed the impenetrable buckler of a conventionality. She wrote: + +"PENSIOIN SCHALCK, Bad Weisstein, Austrian Tyrol. + +"MY DEAR CROCKER-- + +"It would be pleasant to see you and talk over your trip, but you see by +this address it is for the present impossible. As always, + +"Cordially yours, + +"EMMA VERPLANCK." + +When Crocker found Emma's valley as effectually barred as if a battery +guarded the approaches, he gave way to a deep resentment. Instinctively +hating anything like a trick, to be tricked by Emma at this point was +intolerable. His gloom was such that he confided to the malicious Harwood +a profound disgust with the irreality of the life Italianate. The +_podere_ should be sold as soon as it could be put in order. Such +pictures as the Italian Government coveted, it should keep, the rest +should go to the Museum at Boston. He himself would grow orange trees in +North Cuba where there were things to shoot and, thank heaven, no +civilisation. Harwood came breathlessly to Dennis's with the tale, +gloating openly that there was to be a seventh act if not an eighth. + +A long hard day with his bailiff and the peasants restored Crocker's +poise. He looked for the hundredth time over into Emma's valley and +divined her attitude. Dreading an interview, she had left the way open to +parley. She virtually pleaded for a delay. It was a new and, in a way, +delightful sensation to be feared. For the first time in any human +relation he exploited a personal advantage and wrote, addressing Bad +Weisstein: + +"DEAREST EMMA-- + +"You have wanted a delay. Well, you have it--probably a week already. +Make the most of it, for two weeks from this date--I give you time to +recover from your journey--I am coming for tea in the old way. Meanwhile +you can hardly imagine the impatience of + +"Yours more than ever, + +"MORTON CROCKER." + +Whether Crocker or Emma was more miserable during the fortnight even +Dennis could not have told. But there was in his woe something of the +sublime stolidity of the man who is going to stand up to be shot or +reprieved, whereas she suffered the uncertainty of the soldier who has +been drawn to make up the "firing party" for a comrade. She feared that +she would not have courage enough to despatch him, and then she feared +she would. Meantime the days passed, and she woke up one morning with an +odd little shiver reminding her that it was no longer possible to get a +note to him by way of Bad Weisstein. Nor had she the heart to move to a +nearer coign of constructive absence. Of half measures she was, after +all, a foe. Her determination to send Crocker away daily increased, and +the implacable St. Michael seemed to command that course. "You are not +for him. You represent a whole artificial world in which he cannot +breathe. I, the finest incarnation of the most exquisite mannerism of a +bygone time, am your spiritual spouse, and you may not lightly renounce +me. You have devoted yourself to graceful irrealities and must now abide +by your choice." Thus the St. Michael had spoken in a dream in the +troubled hours before daybreak, and when Emma went to her den late the +next morning she confronted him and admitted, "You are right, St. +Michael. It's all true." That afternoon Crocker was coming for tea, and +if her New York aunts could have known, even they would have granted +that, for the second time in a thoroughly selfish life, Emma was +displaying capacities for self-sacrifice. + +As Emma and Crocker shook hands that afternoon, one might see that both +had aged a little, but he most. Something of the appealing boyishness +had gone out of his eyes. He had become her contemporary. A certain +moral advantage, too, had passed to his side and she, whose prerogative +it had been to take the leading part, now waited for him to begin. As +if on honour to do nothing abruptly, he sketched his year for her--his +sports and committees, his kinsfolk and hers; their fresh, +invigorating, half-made land. She listened almost in silence until he +turned to her and said: + +"With me, Emma, it is and always will be the same. You know that. Has +anything changed with you?" + +"I don't think so, Crocker. How can I tell? I'm glad you're here, in +spite of the shabby trick I've played you. Let me say just that I'm +heartily glad to see an old friend." + +"No, I must have more than that or less. I want much more than that." + +"You want too much. You want more than I can give to anybody. O! Why +can't you see it all? You are alive, even here in Florence but, I, I am +no longer a real person that can love or be loved. Can't you see that I +am only a sensibility that absorbs the sweetness of this valley, a mere +bundle of scruples and fears, a weather-cock veering with the talk of +the rest of them? Think of that and take back what you have thought +about me." + +"Emma, you admit a need, and that is very sweet to me. You want some one +to strengthen you against all this that you call the valley. Mightn't +that helper be I?" + +"You shan't be committed to anything so hopeless." + +"It isn't as hopeless as it seems. The strength of the valley is only in +its weakness, and we shall be strong together." + +"I have forgotten how to be strong, for years I have only been clever." + +"You'd be dull enough with me as you well know. I can do that for +both. But don't talk as if there were some fate between us. There can +be none except your indifference, and I believe you do care a little +and will more." + +"Of course, I care, Crocker, but not as you wish. You have refreshed me +in this opiate air. You have represented the real country I have +exchanged for this illusion, the real life I might have lived had I been +braver or more fortunate. But you can have no part in what I have come to +be. Go, for both our sakes." + +"Not for any such reason. I can't surrender my happiness for a phrase; I +can't leave you to these delusions about yourself." + +"It is no delusion; I wish it were. It's in my blood and breeding. For +generations my people have lived the unreal life. I am the fine flower of +my race, and in coming to this valley of dreams and this no-life I am +merely fulfilling a destiny--a fate, as you say--and coming to my own." + +"But Emma, the worthy Verplancks?" + +"No, listen to me. For generations the Verplancks have been what people +expected them to be, incarnate formulas of etiquette and timid living. +They took their colour from the gossiping society in which they seemed to +live. They prudently married other Verplancks, cousins or cousins' +cousins. They hoarded their little fortunes without increasing them, and +if what they called the rabble had not peopled New York and raised the +price of land, which my people were merely too stolid to sell, we should +long ago have gone under in penury. We have led nobody and made nothing, +but have been maintained by stronger forces and persons, toward whom we +have always taken the air of doing a favour. That mistake at least I +shall not make with you, Crocker. I want you to feel the full nullity of +me. As I see you now I have a twinge because my great grandfather, who +was a small banker, would have called yours, who was a farmer--you see I +have looked you up--not 'Mister' but 'My Good Man.'" + +For a moment she paused, and Crocker groped for a reply. "All this may be +true, Emma," he said at last, "and yet mean very little to you and me. +Besides, I'm quite willing you should call me your Good Man. In fact, I'd +rather like it." + +"You must take me seriously--you shall. I cannot marry. I'm married +already. Dennis says I am. Come and see my bridegroom." And she fairly +dragged the bewildered Crocker into her den and set him once more before +the missing St. Michael. + +"There he is, an incarnated weakness and fastidiousness. His hand is too +delicate to draw his own sword. If he really cast out Satan, it must have +been by merely staring him down. His helmet rests with no weight upon his +curled and perfumed locks--his buckles are soft gold where iron should +be. He represents the dull, collective, aristocratic intolerance of +Heaven for the only individualist it ever managed to produce. He pretends +to be a warrior and is as feminine as your St. Catherine. He is the +imperturbable champion of celestial good form, and Dennis, who sees +through things, says he is my spiritual husband. He is the weakest of the +weak and is too strong for you, Crocker." + +For a space that seemed minutes they faced each other, Emma excited, with +a diffused indignation that defied impartially the missing St. Michael +and the puzzled man before her; Crocker with a perplexity that renewed +the old boyish expression in his eyes. He seemed to be thinking, and, as +he thought, the tension of Emma's attitude relaxed, she forgot to look at +the St. Michael and wondered at the even, steady patience of the big +likable boy she was dismissing. She pitied him in advance for the futile +argument he must be revolving. She had despatched him as in duty bound +and was both sorry and glad. + +But his counterplea when it came was of a disconcerting briefness and +potency. He said very slowly, "Yes, I see it all. There is your spiritual +husband; there are they" (indicating the valley with a sweep of a big +hand), "and there are you, Emma, caught in a web of baffling and false +ideas; and here am I, a real man who loves you, fearing neither the St. +Michael nor them" (another gesture) "nor your doubts. I set myself, +Morton Crocker, your lover, against them all and take my own so." + +There was a frightened second in which his sturdy arms closed about her. +There was a little shudder, as the same big hand that had defied the +valley sought her head and pressed it to his shoulder. When Emma at last +looked up the mockery she always carried in her eyes had given place to a +new serenity, and her hand reached up timidly for his. + +Crocker and Emma--we now instinctively gave him the precedence--were +inconsiderate enough to remove themselves without making clear the fate +of the no longer missing St. Michael. We still speculated indolently as +to the nature of the afterpiece in which we assumed this ex-hero of our +comedy might yet appear. Then we learned that Emma was to be married +without delay from the stone manor house under the Taconics where her +people had dwelt since patroon days. Only a handful of friends with +Crocker's nearest kin and her inevitable New York aunts were to be +present. These venerable ladies had admitted that in marrying, even +opulently, out of the family, Emma had once more shown velleities of +self-sacrifice. Then we heard of Crocker and Emma on his boat along the +coast "Down East." Later we were shocked by rumours of a canoe trip +through Canadian waterways. Hereupon the usually benevolent Dennis +protested as he glanced approvingly at the well-kept Tuscan landscape. +"Crocker needn't rub it in," he opined. "Why, it's the same scrubby +spruce tree from the Plains of Abraham to James's Bay-and Emma, who hated +being bored! Why, it's marriage by capture; it's barbaric." "It's worse; +it's rheumatic," shuddered Harwood as he declined Marsala and took +whisky. "But he'll have to bring her back to civilisation some time, if +only to hospital. We shall have her again." "He will bring her back, but +we shall never have her again," said Dennis solemnly. "She has renounced +us and all our works." "Renouncing our works isn't so difficult," smiled +Mrs. Dennis, and then the talk drifted elsewhere, to new Emmas who were +just beginning to eat the Tuscan lotus. + +Before the year had turned to June again we had nearly forgotten our +runaways, when a quite unusual activity about her villa and Crocker's +warned us that they were coming back. Harwood had seen in transit a box +which he thought corresponded to the St. Michael's stature, but was not +sure. In a few days came a circular note from Crocker through Dennis +saying that they were fairly settled and he glad to see any or all of +us. She, however, was still fatigued by the journey and must for a time +keep her room. + +Harwood straightway volunteered to undertake the preliminary +reconnaissance, while Frau Stern engaged to penetrate to Emma herself. + +On a beatific afternoon we sat in council on Dennis's terrace awaiting +the envoys. Below, the misty plain rose on and on till it gathered into +an amber surge in Monte Morello and rippled away again through the +Fiesolan hills. Nearer, torrid bell-towers pierced the shimmering reek, +like stakes in a sweltering lagoon. In the centre of all, the great dome +swam lightly, a gigantic celestial buoy in a vaporous sea. The spell that +bound us all was doubly potent that day. The sense of a continuous life +that had made the dome and the belfries an inevitable emanation from the +clean crumbling earth, lulled us all, and we hardly stirred when Harwood +bustled in, saying, "Cheer up. I have seen Crocker, and it isn't there." +"You mean," said the cautious Dennis, "that Crocker still possesses only +the hole, aperture, frame, or niche that the missing St. Michael may yet +adorn." "I only know that it isn't there now," growled Harwood. "I deal +merely in facts, but you may get theories, if you must have them, from +Frau Stern, who heroically forced her way to Emma over Crocker's +prostrate form." + +As he spoke we heard Frau Stern's timid, well-meaning ring, and in a +moment her smile filled the archway. + +"We don't need to ask if you have news," cried Mrs. Dennis from afar. + +"If I haf news. Guess what it is. It is too lovely. You cannot think? +Well, there will be a baby next autumn, what you call it?" "Michaelmas, I +suppose," grunted Harwood through his pipe-smoke and subsided into +indifference. + +"All this is most charming and interesting, Frau Stern," expostulated +Dennis, "but, as our enthusiastic friend Harwood delicately hints, +what we really let you go for was to locate the Missing St. Michael." +"I haf almost forgot that," she apologised as she nibbled her +_brioche_, "Emma was so happy. But for the bothersome St. Michael +there is no change. I saw it in what she calls her new den. She +laughed to me and said, 'I cannot let him have it, you see, you would +all say he married me for it.'" + +"Bravo!" shouted Dennis and Harwood in unison, and the Sage added with +unction, "So she has not been able to renounce us utterly." + +"It is not now for long," rejoined Frau Stern, "it is only to the time we +haf said." "Michaelmas," repeated Harwood disgustedly. + +"Yes, that is it," she pursued tranquilly, "Emma told me in confidence, +'To Crocker I cannot give it because of you all, but to our child I may, +and it shall do with it what it will.' Now do you prevail, Misters Dennis +and Harwood?" + +"We are a bit downcast but not discomfited," acknowledged Dennis, +while Harwood remained glumly within his smoke. "Emma has escaped us, +but she still pays us the tribute of a subterfuge. It is enough, we +will forgive her, even if her way lies from us dozers here. For to-day +the same sunshine drenches her and us. It is a bond. Let us enjoy it +while we may." + + + + +THE LUSTRED POTS + + +"Haul away, Sam. This is the real thing" came from the depths of the +well. Sam Cleghorn stumbled in the gloom towards the windlass, avoiding +on the way a rude handpump and two heaps of dirt and broken pottery that +sloped threateningly upon the low curb, where balanced a perforated disc +of marble, the great bottom-stone of the well. All these properties +caught a little light from a beam that came through a slit in the wall, +casting most of its uncertain bloom up into a low groined vault, the +heavy round arches of which were separated from squat piers by clumsy +brackets. Outside at the level of the reticulated stone floor one could +hear the rushing of a river. As Cleghorn leaned over the well-mouth +before seizing the crank, a glimmer of yellow light flooded his face and +again came up the hollow impatient cry, "Haul away, Sam. This lot's a +good one, and it's mine." Replying "All right, Dick," Cleghorn bent to +the crank. With much creaking the coils crept along the spindle and the +light burden began to rise jerkily. + + * * * * * + +Although neither the well nor the vaulted cellar chamber belonged to Sam +Cleghorn or to Dick Webb, their presence and actions there were not +surreptitious. Stanton Mayhew, who ignorantly owned the well, had given +them plenary permission to pump and dig, mildly pitying their apparent +lunacy. The palace above was his in virtue of his sensible preference for +living twice as well on the Arno for half the cost on the Hudson. This +rule of two, like so many foreign residents of Florence, he +unquestioningly obeyed, and it constituted practically the whole of his +philosophy and maxims. Hence he was not the man to prize a Tuscan well +dug in the fourteenth century, cleaned perhaps never, and gradually +filled to the brim with what the forwardlooking past benightedly took for +rubbish. So when Cleghorn and Webb made him an overture for the right to +clean the well, he had genially replied, "Why, go ahead, boys, and enjoy +yourselves. It's you who ought to be paid, but for your healths' sake you +really ought to wait till I've punched some decent windows through that +damp cellar wall and let the air in." + +If neither Sam nor Dick waited even a day, it was because each was a bit +afraid that the other would begin alone. College mates, collectors both, +they were fast friends in a way and rivals beyond dispute. Their common +taste for antiquity and adequacy of means had made their graduate course +chiefly one of travel. And when travel wore out its novelty they +naturally settled in the easiest, as the least exacting, European city, +occupying two halves of one floor in the same palace. Their apartments +started full, and quickly overflowed with objects of curiosity and +art--all old, for their knowledge was considerable; some fine, for +neither was without taste. But taste neither had in any austere sense, +for they collected art much as a dredge collects marine specimens. +Nothing came amiss to them. Wood, ivory, silver, bronze, marble, +plaster--they repudiated no material or period. Stuffs, glass, pictures, +porcelains, potteries--it was all one to them so the object were old and +rare. Inevitably, then, they had come to primitive pots, and +simultaneously, for they not only watched each other closely, but almost +read each other's minds. And when they came to primitive pots it was +certain that they would beg, borrow, or steal a well, since in old wells, +and cisterns, besides less mentionable places, primitive pots abide. Many +pots were there, as we shall see, from the first, and the maids and +children of the centuries, by way of concealing breakages, have usually +made notable secondary contributions. So when amiable Stanton Mayhew +freely conceded a most ancient well to Cleghorn and Webb, it was like +receiving Pandora's box, with the difference that the well might safely +be opened. + +Here had ensued a most delicate negotiation concerning the division of +the spoil. A mathematical partition of the fragmentary material that an +old Italian well contains is extremely difficult if at all possible. +After much debate it was agreed that after they struck pay dirt, each +should dig in turn, each to have the bucketful that came under his trowel +or fingers. Scattered fragments of the same pot and other complications +were to be adjudicated by Mayhew, whose ignorance and disinterestedness +were safe to assume. But the well gave up quantities of noncontentious +matter before Mayhew's services were required. The first five feet had +revealed nothing but fragments of kitchen pottery of our time and a +fairly perfect hoopskirt of Garibaldian date. A little lower had emerged +the skeleton of a cat. Similar tragedies were in evidence, on an average, +at every quarter century of depth. Between the second and third cat, lay +Ginori imitations of Sevres and Wedgewood, scraps too of gilded +glass--the earnest of better things below. Five cats down, some +eighteenth-century apothecary pots, damaged but amenable to repair, had +inaugurated the alternation of buckets under the agreement. It were +tedious to follow the ascending scale of excellence as the digging went +deeper. Enough to say that below the mixed ingredients and the nethermost +cat they found a homogeneous layer of beautiful fourteenth-century +shards, affording many buckets full, and promising delicate adjudication +to the referee. + +Before the lustred pots themselves shed a baleful gleam over this +narrative, something should obviously be said about Italian wells and why +they contain pots. Beyond those casually acquired from careless or +secretive servants, there is, if the well be old and of good make, a +certain number of intact pieces put in to serve as a filter. Often a +group of pitchers or similar crocks is imprisoned between the two +bottom-stones. Sometimes there are two such layers. After this filter had +been made there was frequently scattered a bushel or more of small shards +above. From these by careful sorting complete or nearly complete pieces +may be recovered. Through all this mass of whole or broken pottery the +water had to find its way up, for the cement sides of an Italian well are +watertight. Thus, barring the indiscretions of housemaids and cats, the +early Italians drank pure water. + +Naturally Cleghorn and Webb were conversant with these refinements of +mediaeval hydraulics. In fact when Webb, the sturdier of the two, hauled +up the bottom-stone all dripping, Cleghorn promptly declared that in the +sense of the contract it was a bucketful; hence his first go at the now +uncovered pots. So heated grew the debate, that finally the grimy +excavators climbed to the upper air and appealed to Mayhew, who promptly +denied the quibble, deciding that stones and pots were not +interchangeable. The diversion drew attention from the great perforated +disc itself, and as the sullen Cleghorn let the exultant Webb down upon +the ancient pots, it lay badly bestowed near the curb on the crumbling +slope of a rubbish heap. And now Cleghorn with bitterness of heart was +reeling up Webb's find. As the coils broadened on the windlass a small +iron bucket rose above the parapet, brimming with something that glinted +metallically under the dirt. Beside the bucket flapped the rude swing in +which the entrances and exits of the partners were made. As Cleghorn +grasped the bail and swung the precious cargo clear of the well, came up +once more the voice of Webb: "Hustle, Old Man, I'm keen to see them, they +feel good." + +Good they were indeed. Cleghorn, who for fifteen years had haunted shops +and museums had never seen the like in equal compass. As he took them +cautiously one by one and held them high in the uncertain light, each +revealed a desirable point. Here was a coat of arms, a date, the initial +of an owner. There were grotesque birds and beasts. Differing in form and +colour, the entire lot agreed in possessing that dull early Italian +lustre, which perhaps accidental and less distinguished than that of +Spain, is even dearer in a collector's eyes. They hinted of all enamelled +things that come out of the East--of the peacock reflections of the tiles +of Damascus and Cordova, of the franker polychromy of Rhodian kilns, of +the subtler bloom of the dishes of Moorish Spain, of the brassier glazes +of Minorca and Sicily--all these things lay enticingly in epitome in +these lustred Italian pots, as they glimmered with a furtive splendour. +Yes, they were a good lot, thought Cleghorn as he placed them reverently +on the flagging. It was the find of a lifetime. A man with nothing else +in his cupboard must be mentioned respectfully among collectors from Dan +to Beersheba. + +Again the impatient voice of Webb below: "Hurry up, I say. It's getting +cold: the water is gaining." + +"All right," called Cleghorn, giving a few strokes of the pump, but never +taking his eyes from the lustred pots. Then as if by a sudden inspiration +he asked, "Any more in that lot, Dick?" + +"Not a one," cried Webb jubilantly, "there was just a bucketful and a +squeeze at that. But there may be others beneath. There's another +bottom-stone, and it's your next turn. But why don't you hurry up?" + +A scowl passed over Cleghorn's thin face set unswervingly towards the +pots. They glimmered in the shadow with an unholy phosphorescence--green, +blue, carmine, strange purplish browns. So the glittering coils of the +serpent may have bewildered our first Mother. There were other pots +below, reflected Cleghorn, yes, but there never could be again such a +batch as these. And then his dazed eye for a second left the fascinating +pots, and mechanically searched the vaulted chamber. To his excited gaze +the rubbish heaps centring about the curb seemed already in movement. The +massive bottom-stone overhung the parapet, resting only on loose dirt and +shards. With horror he noted that a breath might send it down. If it +slipped, whose were the lustred pots? Against his will the phrase said +itself over and over again throbbingly behind his eyes, and again he +forgot everything in the vision of the lustred pots. + +"Damn it, hurry up," came thunderously from below. Cleghorn stumbled with +a curious hesitation between the crank and the poised bottom-stone. The +clumsy movement loosened a handful of shards which went clattering down; +the great stone slid, caught on the parapet, and hung once more in +uncertain oscillation. Profanity unrestrained transpired from the mouth +of the well. + +It was a tremulous Cleghorn that sent down the bucket and reeled up an +irate and vociferous Webb. Words abounded without explanations, and blows +seemed possible, when Cleghorn, as it were apologetically raised a +pitcher and a bowl into the shaft of light that came through the +oubliette. "They're all like that, Dick," he protested. "It's your lucky +day. I congratulate you." It was a silenced and mollified Webb that +clutched at the pots, and noted wisely that every one had been brushed by +the peacock's tail. With a kind of pity at last he turned to the +deprecating Cleghorn and said, "That was an awkward business of yours +about the shards, and the bottom-stone there is a pretty sight for a man +who left it so and went down to work under it, but one couldn't wait for +such pots as these. On my soul, Old Man, if you had dumped it all down on +me I could hardly have blamed you." + +Welcomed with a loud laugh by its maker, the joke jarred on Cleghorn, who +merely answered, "It's very good of you, Dick, to say so." + +"But there may be quite as good ones below," pursued Webb genially. +"We'll rest up a bit and then you have your go and finish the job." + +"If you don't mind, Dick, I'd rather not," was the embarrassed answer. +"The fact is I'm too nervous and absentminded for this work." He looked +down into the blackness with a shudder and said. "No, I don't want to go +down there again. One can't tell what might happen there." + +"Then you've dropped your nerve. Sorry for it," came from a baffled and +disgusted partner, but as he spoke a smile drew across the broad, amiable +face, and he added insinuatingly, "Then the rest are mine, Old Man?" + +"Yes they're yours fast enough." + +"It's mighty good of you, Sam. I won't forget it. I'll share sometime on +a good thing like this. I'm all ready to go down again when you've had a +smoke. Only we'll set that stone right and you'll be more careful about +the shards." + +"If you'll excuse me, Dick, I'd rather not." Cleghorn looked at his +watch. "You see I ought to be out of these duds already. I have a very +particular tea outside. Didn't I tell you about it? I'll send Mayhew +down to help." + +"All right, just as you please," was the indifferent reply. But as +Cleghorn turned up the narrow steps, Webb muttered perplexedly, "To funk +at this point and for a tea! The man is touched or in love." + + * * * * * + +Webb with Mayhew's dispassionate aid made a considerable haul below the +second stone, though in truth there was nothing there to compare with the +first lot. The batch of lustred pots is the pride of his eye, and when it +is suggested that he values them highly he answers, "Well rather, they're +pretty good, you know, and then they nearly cost me a broken head. I was +so keen for them that I set a big stone where it might easily have +tumbled on me." Then the rest of the anecdote, which Cleghorn, in whose +presence it frequently is told, never hears with complete equanimity. The +causes of his uneasiness I do not engage to analyse, for, unlike Webb, +Cleghorn is imaginative and difficult. + + + + +THE BALAKLAVA CORONAL + + +As the dinner wore on endlessly, I consoled myself by the thought of the +Balaklava Coronal. There in the toastmaster's seat was Morrison who had +bought it, at my right loomed Vogelstein who had sold it, far across, +towards the foot of the board, sat the critic Brush in whose presence I +understood the infamous sale had been made. I missed only Sarafoff, the +marvellous peasant-silversmith, who wrought the coronal in his prison +workshop in the Viennese ghetto. Now there was nothing strange about +Vogelstein's selling it, nor yet about Morrison's buying it; only the +making of it by the illiterate Sarafoff and the silence of Brush when it +was sold required explanation. Vogelstein, who breathed heavily beside +me, undoubtedly held the secret. I felt so hopeful that time and the +champagne which we were drinking for the sake of art would give him to me +that I took no pains meanwhile to disturb his elaborate indifference to +my presence. + +Between him and me little love was lost. As the editor of a moneylosing +art magazine in the interior, it was my duty occasionally to visit his +galleries. After such visits the remnant of my New England conscience +usually forced me to diminish or actually to spoil many a sale of the +dubious or merely fashionable antiquities in which he dealt. But in the +main my power to harm him was slight. He held in a knowing grip the +strings of his patrons' vanity and taste. So he regarded me with +something between scorn and uneasiness--as a pachyderm might take a +predatory bee. For the sake of my steady production of the honey of free +advertising he forgave a sting from which he was after all immune. At the +beginning of the dinner he had greeted me with what was meant for a +civility and then had relapsed into silence. To escape the loquacity of +my other neighbour I gave myself to parallel observation of Vogelstein +and Morrison--the great dealer and his greater customer. + +Both plainly belonged to the same species and it pleased my whim to +symbolise them as a mastodon and a rogue elephant. Morrison, the dreaded +agent and operator, was unquestionably the finer creature. He moved more +precisely and with a sense of wieldy power. His phrases cut where +Vogelstein's merely smote. His bigness had something genial about it. He +looked the amateur, and indeed does not the rogue elephant trample down +villages chiefly for the joy of the affray? One felt that something more +than Morrison's preposterous winnings had been involved in the clashes of +railroads and cataclysms on the exchange which had for years past been +his major recreation. Vogelstein, though evidently of coarser fibre, +belonged to the same formidable breed. The mastodon, we must suppose, +lacked much of the finesse of the rogue elephant of later evolution. And +Vogelstein's Semitism was of the archaic, potent, monumental type. His +abundant fat looked hard. For all the sagging double chin, his jaw +retained the character of a clamp. Among the strong race of art dealers +he was feared. Whole collections not single objects were his quarry. He +paid lavishly, foolishly, counting as confidently on the ignorance and +vanity of his clients, as ever Morrison upon the brute expansion of the +national wealth. But Vogelstein looked and was as completely the +professional as Morrison the amateur. There remained this essential +difference that if nothing could be too big to stagger Vogelstein, +nothing likewise could be too small to deter him. I knew his shop, or +rather his palace, and had observed the relish with which he could shame +a timorous art student into giving three prices for a print. It afforded +him no more pleasure, one could surmise, to impose a false Rembrandt at +six figures upon a wavering iron-master, or, indeed to unload an historic +but rather worthless collection upon Morrison himself. For Vogelstein was +after all of primitive stamp, to wit the militant publican. So he took +toll and plenty, it mattered little where or whence. + +To Morrison and Vogelstein no better foil could be imagined than Brush. +If they recalled the tusked monsters that charged in the van of Asiatic +armies, his analogue was the desert horse. Small, spare, sensitive, shy, +his every posture suggested race, training, spirit, and docility. His +_flair_ for classical art had become proverbial. By mere touch he +detected those remarkable counterfeits of Syracusan coins. It was he who +segregated the Renaissance intaglios at Bloomsbury only the winter before +he exposed the composite figurines at Berlin. To him the Balaklava +Coronal must have proclaimed its nullity as far as its red gold could be +seen. For that matter the coronal was a bye-word, and why not? The same +dealers who had landed the more famous Tiara in the Louvre had the +selling of it. The greater museums in Europe and America had refused it +at a bargain. On Fifth Avenue and the Rue Lafitte all the dealers were +joking about the Balaklava Coronal. The name of Sarafoff, its maker, had +even become accepted slang. For a season we "Sarafoffed" our intimates +instead of hoaxing them. And in the face of all this Vogelstein had sold +the Coronal to Morrison under Brush's very nose. It seemed so wholly +incredible that I began counting Vogelstein's heavy respirations, to make +sure I was really awake. + +Then the pale, tense mask of Brush--so isolated in the apoplectic row +across the table--calmed me. That he was Vogelstein's or anyone's tool +was unthinkable. Mercenary suspicions, to be sure, had been put about, +but those who knew him merely laughed at such a notion. Vogelstein also +laughed, shaking volcanically within, whenever the Coronal, the +genuineness of which he still maintained, was mentioned. And he always +treated Brush with a curious and almost tender condescension, much in +fact as the mastodon might have regarded that fragile ancestor of the +horse, the five-toed protohippos. + +I have neglected to explain that the occasion which brought me at one +table with such major celebrities as Morrison, Vogelstein, and Brush was +a public dinner in behalf of civic art. For just as we find the celestial +compromised by the naughty Aphrodite, so we distinguish two antithetical +sorts of art. There is a bad private art which is produced for dealers +and millionaires and takes care of itself, and there is a virtuous public +art which we hope to have some day and meanwhile has to be taken care of +by special societies. It was one of these that was now dining for the +good of the cause. Under the benevolent eye of Morrison, our acting +president, we had put pompano upon a soup underlaid with oysters, and +then a larded fillet upon some casual tidbit of terrapins. Whereupon a +frozen punch. Thus courage was gained, the consecrated sequence of +sherry, hock, claret and champagne being absolved, for the proper +discussion of woodcock in the red with a famous old burgundy--Morrison's +personal compliment to the apostolate of civic art. + +At the dessert, Morrison himself spoke a few words. The little speech +came brusquely from him, and no one who knew his rapacity for the +beautiful could doubt his faith in the universal superlatives he now +advocated. Our art, he held, must weigh with our mills and railroads, +else our life is out of balance. We never grudged millions to burrow +beneath New York for light, or for drink or speed, why then should we +grudge them for the beautiful inutilities that might make the surface of +the city splendid. A craving for fine objects was his own dearest +emotion, he wanted to see cities, states, and the nation ready to spend +with equal fervour. It all came apparently to a matter of spending. +Morrison entertained no doubt that an imperious demand would create an +abundant supply of what he called the best art. Whether we were to +transport bodily the great monuments of Europe to America, or merely were +to supply beauty off our indigenous bat, was not clear from Morrison's +address, and possibly was not wholly so in his own mind. But the talk was +solid and forceful, and I could hear Vogelstein grunt with inward joy +when he contemplated the city, the state, and the nation in their +predicted rôle as customers. I too felt that a real if an incoherent +voice had spoken, and that if civic art were indeed to come, it would be +through such neo-Roman visionaries as Morrison. + +Then the mood changed and a willowy, hirsute, and earnest reviver of +tapestry weaving rose and pleaded for the "City Beautiful," castigating +the Philistine the while, and looking forward to a time when "the pomp, +and chronicle of our time should be splendidly committed to illumined +window and pictured wall," with some slight allusion to "those ancient +webs through which the Middle Ages still speak glowingly to us." + +About midway in the speech Morrison, who had another public dinner down +the avenue slipped away. As he nodded "See you later perhaps" I marked +the adoring eye and smile of Vogelstein, and then the great folds settled +back into their places about his mouth and my neighbour once more gave an +uneasy attention to the weaver of beautiful phrases, meanwhile drinking +repeated glasses of burgundy. Soon his huge form heaved with an +inarticulate discontent, and as the speaker sat down amid perfunctory +applause Vogelstein snorted twice into the air. + +"It is rather absurd, as you say," I ventured. + +"It's sickening," wheezed Vogelstein. "Why can't he sell his tapestries +without all that talk?" + +"Oh, he enjoys the talk and probably believes it, and you and I do better +after all to hear his talk than to see his tapestries." A mastodonic +chuckle welcomed this mild sally. The burgundy was taking effect. + +As the diners rose stiffly or alertly, according to their several grades +of repletion, Vogelstein attached himself to me almost affectionately. +"Do stop in the café and talk to me," he urged. "It's queer, here are a +lot of my customers, some of my artists, besides you literary chaps, and +except Morrison, nobody wants to talk to me. Morrison and I, we +understand each other. It's early yet. Come along with me and talk. I've +wanted to talk to you for a long time, but always was too busy in my +place. You see you writers don't buy, in fact those that know almost +never do. It's really queer." + +Knowing the might of burgundy when a due foundation of champagne has been +laid, I hardly took this effusion as personal to myself, but I also saw +no reason, too, why I should not profit by the occasion. "I'll gladly +chat with you, Mr. Vogelstein," I answered, "but you must let me choose +the subject. We will talk about the Balaklava Coronal." + +As he led me into the elevator by the arm he whispered "All right, Old +Man, but why? You know just as much as I about it." + +There was no chance to reply until he had selected his table and ordered +two Scotches and soda. "Yes, I know something about it," I said at last; +"everyone does apparently except Morrison. I know that Sarafoff made the +Coronal, but I don't know who taught him how to make it, nor yet how +Morrison was idiot enough to buy it, when anybody could have told him +what it was, nor yet how Brush came to let it be sold. These are the +interesting parts of the story, and I'll drink no drink of yours unless +you tell." + +At the mention of idiocy in connection with Morrison Vogelstein shuddered +and raised a massive deprecating hand. The gesture was arrested by the +entrance of Brush, who with a slight nod to us passed to a distant +corner. Suddenly Vogelstein's expression had become one beaming, +condescending paternalism. "Good man but impracticable," he muttered. +"Thinks knowing it is everything. Knowing it is something, but selling it +is the real thing. Now I hardly know at all, not a tenth as much as +Brush, not a half as much as you even, but so long as I can sell, I don't +really care to know. What's the use?" + +"But you did know about the Balaklava Coronal and you sold it too," I +interrupted. "How did you dare?" + +"That's my secret--but here are our drinks. A bargain's a bargain. How +funny it is to be talking truth. Why, much of it would make even your job +difficult." + +"And yours impossible, but we're not getting to the Coronal," I insisted. + +"As for that," responded Vogelstein obligingly, "the first thing was of +course the making. You know all about Sarafoff yourself. Well, he only +did the work. It was Schönfeld who put in the brains. You don't know him? +Few do. Great man though. University professor of archaeology, trouble +with a woman, next trouble with money, now one of us. Yes Schönfeld +thought it out and saw it through." + +"And certainly made a good job of it," I admitted. + +"As you see, we wanted something unique--something that could not be +compared with anything in the museums." + +"Precisely," I interposed, "Product of the local, semi-barbaric school of +the Crimea." + +"You've hit it," grinned Vogelstein. "Scythian influence, to take the +professors. Schönfeld said we must have that. And that's why it had to be +found at Balaklava." + +"But it had to look Scythian too. How did you manage that?" + +"Oh, that was Sarafoff's business. He had been a servant and then a +novice at one of the monasteries of Mount Athos. Could make beautiful +tenth-century Byzantine madonnas. I've sold some. Then he carved ikons +in wood, ivory, silver, or what came. His things really looked Scythian +enough to those who didn't know their modern Greece and Russia. So we +set him to work in a back alley of Vienna at three kroners a day--double +pay for him--and Schönfeld ran down from Petersburg now and then to +coach him." + +"You could trust him?" I inquired, recalling how Sarafoff had +subsequently won fame by confessing to his most famous forgery. + +"As much as one can anybody. You see he doesn't speak any civilised +language, and at that time we couldn't tell that the Tiara would spoil +him as it did the entire deal." + +"But Schönfeld's coaching?" I suggested. Vogelstein here winked solemnly +and drank deeply from his tall glass. "First I want to tell you all about +Sarafoff," he persisted, "of course we had him watched all the same, and +whenever he got an evening off, which was seldom, we had him filled up +with schnapps. He was a quiet drunk which is an excellent thing, Sir." As +I nodded assent to this great truth, he continued: "Yes Schönfeld, as I +was saying, managed everything. Wonderful scholar. You would respect him +I'm sure. Why, every bit of the pattern of the Coronal was taken from +some real antique, every word of the inscription too." "Wasn't that a bit +dangerous?" "With Schönfeld in charge, not so very. Everything was taken +from little Russian museums that even you critics don't visit. Almost no +published thing was used, you see." + +"Then there was Sarafoff"-- + +"To give it all that quaint Scythian look," Vogelstein added joyously. +"Yes, we had just the best brains and the best hands for the job, and it +was beautiful." "Better than the Tiara?" + +"Yes, far better. The Tiara was all a mistake, as I told Schönfeld; it +was too big and too good to be true. Except for Steinbach, who fell in +love with its queerness and chipped in some money, we never could have +sold it to a museum. And it was a bad thing to have it there, it aroused +opposition, it was bound to be exposed. I was always against it, and sure +enough it spoiled the game for us. But the Balaklava Coronal that was +just right. It had a sort of well-bred modest beauty. We should have +begun instead of ending with it. Yes, Sir, there never was a more +beautiful thing, a more plausible thing, a finer object to sell than the +Balaklava Coronal." + +As he bellowed the word and beat the table in confirmation, Brush looked +over from his corner apprehensively. "Quietly, Mr. Vogelstein," I hinted, +"this is between ourselves, and we might be overheard." + +"That's right," he admitted, and moodily lit another cigar. "Where were +we?" he asked uneasily. "Oh yes, we were at the Tiara. Now the Coronal +and what we could have sold on the strength of it was worth ten of the +Tiara, and if it hadn't been for the cursed thing, we could have landed +the Coronal as a starter in any one of half a dozen museums." + +"As a matter of fact they were all shy of it." + +"Of course. Once the Tiara was being looked into, the museum game was up, +and there was only Morrison left." Vogelstein lurched around nervously. +"He may drop in soon," he explained. "I'd like to make you acquainted." + +Ignoring the offer, I persisted, "You've got to the interesting point +at last. Tell me why there was only Morrison left. To begin with +Morrison knows something about such matters, and next he can have the +best advice for the asking. And yet you tell me that Morrison was the +only great collector in the world to whom that notoriously false bauble +could be sold." + +Vogelstein swayed uncomfortably in his chair, puffed, swallowed, cleared +his throat, and said, "There are some things one can't say right out; you +know that as well as I, but I can say this: there are many great and +enterprising collectors in America, and Morrison is the only one who +never doubts anything he has once bought." + +"An ideal client then." + +"Quite so. You see the others get worried by the critics. That means +exchanging, refunding--all sorts of trouble." + +"But Morrison never?" + +"Never; he's a true sport. He never squeals." + +"Doesn't have to because he doesn't know he's hurt." + +"That's right," concluded Vogelstein, his face corrugating into one +ample, contented smile. + +"Then the big game reduces itself into selling to Morrison." + +"That's more or less it, Sir. For a critic you have a business head." + +"You will excuse a rather personal question, but how do you feel about +selling your best customer at enormous prices objects which you know to +be false?" + +"It's a fair question since we are talking between ourselves, and you +shall have a straight answer. First my business isn't just a nice one. In +the nature of the case it wouldn't do for sensitive people. I suppose you +and Brush, for instance, couldn't and wouldn't make much out of it. Then +as regards Morrison, I'm not so sure he could complain if he knew. I give +him the things he likes and the treatment he likes at the prices he +likes. What more can any merchant do?" + +I saw the subject rapidly exhausting itself and tried one more tack. +"Yes, it's simpler than I supposed," I admitted, "but it doesn't seem +quite an every-day thing to sell the Balaklava Coronal to anybody under +Brush's nose." + +"It's easier than you think," echoed Vogelstein. "You don't know +Morrison. Hope he'll look in to-night. You ought to meet him." + +My last bolt was shot. It was my turn to sit silent and drink. What could +be this strange infatuation of the hardheaded Morrison, this avowedly +simple magic of the grossly cunning Vogelstein? As I pondered the case I +noticed Brush give a startled glance towards the entrance, heard heavy +steps behind us, and then a deep voice saying, "Hallo again, Vogelstein, +I'm lucky not to be too late to catch you." + +Vogelstein lumbered to his feet and muttered an introduction. We all took +our seats, as the headwaiter bustled obsequiously up to take Morrison's +order of champagne. As if also obeying Morrison's nod, but reluctantly, +Brush crawled over from his corner, a scarcely deferential attendant +transporting his lemonade. + +While casual greetings and some random talk went on I tried to picture +the scene we must present. Neither Brush nor myself is contemptible +physically or in other ways, yet we both seemed curiously the inferiors +of these troglodytic giants. Our scruples, the voluntary complication of +our lives, seemed to constitute at least a disadvantage when measured +against the primitiveness, perhaps the rather brutal simplicity, of our +companions. + +It was Morrison who cut these reflections short. "You will excuse me, +gentlemen," he said, "for introducing a matter of business here, but the +case is pressing and it may even interest you as critics of art." We +nodded permission and he continued, "It's about the Bleichrode Raphael, +as of course you know, Vogelstein. I like it, I want it, but I hear all +sorts of things about it, and frankly it strikes me as dear at the price. +How do you feel about it?" + +At the mention of the Bleichrode Raphael, Brush and I started. The +forgery was more than notorious. The Bleichrode panel had begun life +poorly but honestly as a Franciabigio--a portrait of an unknown +Florentine lad with a beretta, the type of which Raphael's portrait of +himself is the most famous example. The picture hung long in a private +gallery at Rome and was duly listed in the handbooks. One day it +disappeared and when it once more came to light it had become the +Bleichrode Raphael. Its Raphaelisation had been effected, as many of us +knew, by the consummate restorer Vilgard of Ghent, and for him the task +had been an easy one. It had needed only slight eliminations and discreet +additions to produce a portrait of Raphael by himself far more obviously +captivating than any of the genuine series. Soon the picture vanished +from Schloss Bleichrode, and it became anybody's guess what amateur had +been elected to become its possessor. The museums naturally were +forewarned. + +While this came into Brush's memory and mine, Vogelstein's +countenance had become severe, almost sinister, and he was answering +Morrison as follows: + +"Mr. Morrison, I have offered you the Bleichrode Raphael for half a +million dollars. You will hear all sorts of gossip about it. Doubtless +these gentlemen (indicating us) believe it is false and will tell you +so (we nodded feebly). But I offer it not to their judgment but to +yours. You and I know it is a beautiful thing and worth the money. I +make no claims, offer no guarantee for the picture. You have seen it, +and that's enough. If you don't want it, it makes no difference to me, +I can sell it to Theiss (the great Parisian amateur, Morrison's only +real rival), or I will gladly keep it myself, for I shall never have +anything as fine again." + +Morrison sat impassively while Vogelstein watched him narrowly. Brush and +I felt for something that ought to be said yet would not come. At the end +of his speech, or challenge, Vogelstein's expression had softened into +one of the most courtly ingenuousness, now it hardened again into a +strange arrogance. His eyes snapped as he continued with affected +indifference, "Since you have raised the question, Mr. Morrison, the +Bleichrode Raphael is yours to take or leave--to-night." + +There was a pause as the two giants faced each other. Then Morrison +smiled beamingly, as one who loved a good fighter, and said, "Send it +round tomorrow, of course I want it. Well, that's settled, and if these +gentlemen will spare you, I'll give you a lift down town." + +Vogelstein's arrogance melted once more into fulsomeness as he said, +almost forgetting his Goodnight to us, "I'm sure it's very good of you, +Mr. Morrison." + +The forms of Morrison and Vogelstein almost blocked the generous +intercolumnar space as shoulder to shoulder they moved away between the +yellow marble pillars and under the green and gold ceiling. The brown +leather doors swung silently behind them, and we were left together with +our amazement. + +"Never mind, Old Fellow," said Brush at last. "It's the first time for +you. You'll get used to it. It's my second time; I happened to be there, +you know, when the Balaklava Coronal was sold." + + + + +SOME REFLECTIONS ON ART COLLECTING + + +Morally considered, the art collector is tainted with the fourth deadly +sin; pathologically, he is often afflicted by a degree of mania. His +distinguished kinsman, the connoisseur, scorns him as a kind of +mercenary, or at least a manner of renegade. I shall never forget the +expression with which a great connoisseur--who possesses one of the +finest private collections in the Val d'Arno--in speaking of a famous +colleague, declared, "Oh, X----! Why, X---- is merely a collector." The +implication is, of course, that the one who loves art truly and knows it +thoroughly will find full satisfaction in an enjoyment devoid alike of +envy or the desire of possession He is to adore all beautiful objects +with a Platonic fervour to which the idea of acquisition and +domestication is repugnant. Before going into this lofty argument, I +should perhaps explain the collection of my scornful friend. He would +have said: "I see that as I put X---- in his proper place, you look at my +pictures and smile. You have rightly divined that they are of some +rarity, of a sort, in fact, for which X---- and his kind would sell their +immortal souls. But I beg you to note that these pictures and bits of +sculpture have been bought not at all for their rarity, nor even for +their beauty as such, but simply because of their appropriateness as +decorations for this particular villa. They represent not my energy as a +collector, nor even my zeal as a connoisseur, but simply my normal +activity as a man of taste. In this villa it happens that Italian old +masters seem the proper material for decoration. In another house or in +another land you might find me employing, again solely for decorative +purposes, the prints of Japan, the landscapes of the modern +impressionists, the rugs of the East, or the blankets of the Arizona +desert. Free me, then, from the reproach implied in that covert leer at +my Early Sienese." Yes, we must, I think, exclude from the ranks of the +true zealots all who in any plausible fashion utilise the objects of art +they buy. Excess, the craving to possess what he apparently does not +need, is the mark of your true collector. Now these visionaries--at least +the true ones--honour each other according to the degree of "eye" that +each possesses. By "eye" the collector means a faculty of discerning a +fine object quickly and instinctively. And, in fact, the trained eye +becomes a magically fine instrument. It detects the fractions of a +millimetre by which a copy belies its original. In colours it +distinguishes nuances that a moderately trained vision will declare +non-existent. Nor is the trained collector bound by the evidence of the +eye alone. Of certain things he knows the taste or adhesiveness. His ear +grasps the true ring of certain potteries, porcelains, or qualities of +beaten metal. I know an expert on Japanese pottery who, when a sixth +sense tells him that two pots apparently identical come really from +different kilns, puts them behind his back and refers the matter from his +retina to his finger-tips. Thus alternately challenged and trusted, the +eye should become extraordinarily expert. A Florentine collector once saw +in a junk-shop a marble head of beautiful workmanship. Ninety-nine +amateurs out of a hundred would have said. "What a beautiful copy!" for +the same head is exhibited in a famous museum and is reproduced in +pasteboard, clay, metal, and stone _ad nauseam_. But this collector gave +the apparent copy a second look and a third. He reflected that the +example in the museum was itself no original, but a school-piece, and as +he gazed the conviction grew that here was the original. Since it was +closing time, and the marble heavy, a bargain was struck for the morrow. +After an anxious night, this fortunate amateur returned in a cab to bring +home what criticism now admits is a superb Desiderio da Settignano. The +incident illustrates capitally the combination of keenness and patience +that goes to make the collector's eye. + +We may divide collectors into those who play the game and those who do +not. The wealthy gentleman who gives _carte blanche_ to his dealers and +agents is merely a spoilsport. He makes what should be a matter of +adroitness simply an issue of brute force. He robs of all delicacy what +from the first glow of discovery to actual possession should be a fine +transaction. Not only does he lose the real pleasures of the chase, but +he raises up a special clan of sycophants to part him and his money. A +mere handful of such--amassers, let us say--have demoralised the art +market. According to the length of their purses, collectors may also be +divided into those who seek and those who are sought. Wisdom lies in +making the most of either condition. The seekers unquestionably get more +pleasure; the sought achieve the more imposing results. The seekers +depend chiefly on their own judgment, buying preferably of those who know +less than themselves; the sought depend upon the judgment of those who +know more than themselves, and, naturally, must pay for such vicarious +expertise. And, rightly, they pay dear. Let no one who buys of a great +dealer imagine that he pays simply the cost of an object plus a generous +percentage of profit. No, much-sought amateur, you pay the rent of that +palace in Bond Street or Fifth Avenue; you pay the salary of the +gentlemanly assistant or partner whose time is at your disposal during +your too rare visits; you pay the commissions of an army of agents +throughout the world; you pay, alas! too often the cost of securing false +"sale records" in classic auction rooms; and, finally, it is only too +probable that you pay also a heavy secret commission to the disinterested +friend who happened to remark there was an uncommonly fine object in +Y----'s gallery. By a cheerful acquiescence in the suggestions that are +daily made to you, you may accumulate old masters as impersonally, as +genteelly, let me say, as you do railway bonds. But, of course, under +these circumstances you must not expect bargains. + +Now, in objects that are out of the fashion--a category including always +many of the best things--and if approached in slack times, the great +dealers will occasionally afford bargains, but in general the +economically minded collector, who is not necessarily the poor one, must +intercept his prey before it reaches the capitals. That it makes all the +difference from whom and where you buy, let a recent example attest. A +few years ago a fine Giorgionesque portrait was offered to an American +amateur by a famous London dealer. At $60,000 the refusal was granted for +a few days only, subject to cable response. The photograph was tempting, +but the besought amateur, knowing that the authenticity of the average +Giorgione is somewhat less certain than, say, the period of the Book of +Job, let the opportunity pass. A few months after learning of this +incident, I had the pleasure of meeting in Florence an English amateur +who expatiated upon the beauty of a Giorgione that he had just acquired +at the very reasonable price of $15,000. For particulars he referred me +to one of the great dealers of Florence. The portrait, as I already +suspected, was the one I had heard of in America. Forty-five thousand +dollars represented the difference between buying it of a Florentine +rather than a London dealer. Of course, the picture itself had never left +Florence at all, the limited refusal and the rest were merely part of the +usual comedy played between the great dealer and his client. On the other +hand, if the lucky English collector had had the additional good fortune +to make his find in an Italian auction room or at a small dealer's, he +would probably have paid little more than $5,000, while the same purchase +made of a wholly ignorant dealer or direct from the reduced family who +sold this ancestor might have been made for a few hundred francs. With +the seekers obviously lie all the mystery and romance of the pursuit. The +rest surely need not be envied to the sought. One thinks of Consul J.J. +Jarves gradually getting together that little collection of Italian +primitives, at New Haven, which, scorned in his lifetime and actually +foreclosed for a trifling debt, is now an object of pilgrimage for +European amateurs and experts. One recalls the mouse-like activities of +the Brothers Dutuit, unearthing here a gorgeous enamel, retrieving there +a Rembrandt drawing, fetching out a Gothic ivory from a junk-shop. One +sighs for those days, and declares that they are forever past. Does not +the sage M. Eudel warn us that there are no more finds--_"Surtout ne +comptez plus sur les trouvailles."_ Yet not so long ago I mildly chid a +seeker, him of the Desiderio, for not having one of his rare pictures +photographed for the use of students. He smiled and admitted that I was +perfectly right, but added pleadingly, "You know a negative costs about +twenty francs, and for that one may often get an original." Why, even I +who write--but I have promised that this essay shall not exceed +reasonable bounds. + +For the poor collector, however, the money consideration remains a source +of manifold embarrassment, morally and otherwise. How many an enthusiast +has justified an extravagant purchase by a flattering prevision of +profits accruing to his widow and orphans? Let the recording angel reply. +And such hopes are at times justified. There have been instances of men +refused by the life insurance companies who have deliberately adopted the +alternative of collecting for investment, and have done so successfully. +Obviously, such persons fall into the class which the French call +charitably the _marchand-amateur_. Note, however, that the merchant comes +first. Now, to be a poor yet reasonably successful collector without +becoming a _marchand-amateur_ requires moral tact and resolution. The +seeker of the short purse naturally becomes a sort of expert in prices. +As he prowls he sees many fine things which he neither covets nor could +afford to keep, but which are offered at prices temptingly below their +value in the great shops. The temptation is strong to buy and resell. +Naturally, one profitable transaction of this sort leads to another, and +soon the amateur is in the attitude of "making the collection pay for +itself." The inducement is so insidious that I presume there are rather +few persistent collectors not wealthy who are not in a measure dealers. +Now, to deal or not to deal might seem purely a matter of social and +business expediency. But the issue really lies deeper. The difficulty is +that of not letting your left hand know what your right hand does. A +morally ambidextrous person may do what he pleases. He keeps the dealer +and collector apart, and subject to his will one or the other emerges. +The feat is too difficult for average humanity. In nearly every case a +prolonged struggle will end in favour of the commercial self. I have +followed the course of many collector-dealers, and I know very few +instances in which the collection has not averaged down to the level of a +shop--a fine shop, perhaps, but still a shop. I blame no man for +following the wide road, but I feel more kinship with him who walks +scrupulously in the narrow path of strict amateurism. Let me hasten to +add that there are times when everybody must sell. Collections must +periodically be weeded out; one may be hard up and sell his pictures as +another in similar case his horses; artists will naturally draw into +their studios beautiful objects which, occasion offering, they properly +sell. With these obvious exceptions the line is absolutely sharp. Did you +buy a thing to keep? Then you are an amateur, though later your +convenience or necessity dictates a sale. Did you buy it to sell? Then +you are a dealer. + +The safety of the little collector lies in specialisation, and there, +too, lies his surest satisfaction. To have a well-defined specialty +immediately simplifies the quest. There are many places where one need +never go. Moreover, where nature has provided fair intelligence, one must +die very young in order not to die an expert. As I write I think of +D----, one of the last surviving philosophers. Born with the instincts of +a man of letters, he declined to give himself to the gentler pursuit +until he had made a little competence at the law. As he followed his +disinterested course of writing and travel, his enthusiasm centred upon +the antiquities of Greece and Rome. In the engraved gems of that time he +found a beautiful epitome of his favourite studies. For ten years study +and collecting have gone patiently hand in hand. He possesses some fifty +classical gems, many of the best Greek period, all rare and interesting +from material, subject, or workmanship, and he may have spent as many +dollars in the process, but I rather doubt it. He knows his subject as +well as he loves it. Naturally he is writing a book on intaglios, and it +will be a good one. Meanwhile, if the fancy takes him to visit the site +of the Bactrian Empire, he has only to put his collection in his pocket +and enjoy it _en route_. I cannot too highly commend his example, and yet +his course is too austere for many of us. Has untrammelled curiosity no +charms? Would I, for example, forego my casual kakemonos, my ignorantly +acquired majolica, some trifling accumulation of Greek coins, that +handful of Eastern rugs? Could I prune away certain excrescent minor +Whistlers? those bits of ivory cutting from old Italy and Japan? those +tarnished Tuscan panels?--in truth, I could and would not. Yet had I +stuck to my first love, prints, I should by this time be mentioned +respectfully among the initiated, my name would be found in the +card-catalogues of the great dealers, my decease would be looked forward +to with resignation by my junior colleagues. As it is, after twenty years +of collecting, and an expenditure shameful in one of my fiscal estate, I +have nothing that even courtesy itself could call a collection. In +apology, I may plead only the sting of unchartered curiosity, the +adventurous thrill of buying on half or no knowledge, the joy of an +instinctive sympathy that, irrespective of boundaries, knows its own when +it sees it. And you austerely single-minded amateurs, you experts that +surely shall be, I revere if I may not follow you. + +We have left dangling from the first paragraph the morally important +question, Is collecting merely an habitual contravention of the tenth +commandment? Now, I am far from denying that collecting has its +pathology, even its criminology, if you will. The mere lust of +acquisition may take the ugly form of coveting what one neither loves nor +understands. This pit is digged for the rich collector. Poor collectors, +on the other hand, have at times forgotten where enterprise ends and +kleptomania begins. But these excesses are, after all, rare, and for that +matter they are merely those that attach to all exaggerations of +legitimate passion. As for the notion that one should love beautiful +things without desiring them, it seems to me to lie perilously near a +sort of pseudo-Platonism, which, wherever it recurs, is the enemy of life +itself. As I write, my eye falls upon a Japanese sword-guard. I have seen +it a thousand times, but I never fail to feel the same thrill. Out of the +disc of blued steel the artisan has worked the soaring form of a bird +with upraised wings. It is indicated in skeleton fashion by bars +extraordinarily energetic, yet suavely modulated. There must have been +feeling and intelligence in every touch of the chisel and file that +wrought it. Could that same object seen occasionally in a museum showcase +afford me any comparable pleasure? Is not the education of the eye, like +the education of the sentiments, dependent upon stable associations that +can be many times repeated? Shall I seem merely covetous because I crave +besides the casual and adventurous contact with beauty in the world, a +gratification which is sure and ever waiting for me? But let me cite +rather a certain collector and man of great affairs, who perforce spends +his days in adjusting business interests that extend from the arctic +snows to the tropics. His evenings belong generally to his friends, for +he possesses in a rare degree the art of companionship. The small hours +are his own, and frequently he spends them in painting beautiful copies +of his Japanese potteries. It is his homage to the artisans who contrived +those strange forms and imagined those gorgeous glazes. In the end he +will have a catalogue illustrated from his own designs. Meanwhile, he +knows his potteries as the shepherd knows his flock. What casuist will +find the heart to deny him so innocent a pleasure? And he merely +represents in a very high degree the sort of priestliness that the true +collector feels towards his temporary possessions. + +And this sense of the high, nay, supreme value of beautiful things, has +its evident uses. That the beauty of art has not largely perished from +the earth is due chiefly to the collector. He interposes his +sensitiveness between the insensibility of the average man and the always +exiled thing of beauty. If we have in a fractional measure the art +treasures of the past, it has been because the collector has given them +asylum. Museums, all manner of overt public activities, derive ultimately +from his initiative. It is he who asserts the continuity of art and +illustrates its dignity. The stewardship of art is manifold, but no one +has a clearer right to that honourable title. "Private vices, public +virtues," I hear a cynical reader murmur. So be it. I am ready to stand +with the latitudinarian Mandeville. The view makes for charity. I only +plead that he who covets his neighbour's tea-jar--I assume a desirable +one, say, in old brown Kioto--shall be judged less harshly than he who +covets his neighbour's ox. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COLLECTORS*** + + +******* This file should be named 13114-8.txt or 13114-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/1/1/13114 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/old/13114-8.zip b/old/13114-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..83b0b5d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13114-8.zip diff --git a/old/13114.txt b/old/13114.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4803809 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13114.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3725 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Collectors, by Frank Jewett Mather + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Collectors + +Author: Frank Jewett Mather + +Release Date: August 4, 2004 [eBook #13114] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COLLECTORS*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects, +Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +THE COLLECTORS + +Being Cases mostly under the Ninth and Tenth Commandments + +by + +FRANK JEWETT MATHER, Junr. + +1912 + + + + + + + +Comprising a _Ballade_, wherein the Wrongfulness of Art Collecting is +conceded, and as well Certain Stories: _Campbell Corot_, which recounts +the career of an able and candid Picture Forger. _The del Puente +Giorgione_, which tells of an artful Great Lady and an Artless Expert. +_The Lombard Runes_, a mere interlude, but revealing a certain duplicity +in Professional Seekers for Truth. _Their Cross_, so called from an +inanimate Object of Price which wrought Woe to a well meaning New York +Couple. _The Missing St Michael_, a tale of Italianate Americans which is +full of Vanities and, though alluring to the Sophisticated, quite unfit +for the Simple Reader. _The Lustred Pots_, again a mere interlude, but of +a grim sort, as it grazes the Sixth Commandment and _The Balaklava +Coronal_, which, notwithstanding its exotic title, is mostly of our own +People, showing the Triumph of a resourceful Dealer over two Critics and +a Captain of Industry. To which seven stories are added some _Reflections +upon Art Collecting_, setting forth Excuses and Palliations for a +Practice usually regarded as Pernicious. + + + + +FOREWORD + + +Of the seven stories of art collecting that make up this book "Campbell +Corot" and the "Missing St. Michael" first appeared under the pseudonym +of Francis Cotton, in "Scribner's Magazine," and are now reprinted by its +courteous permission. Similar acknowledgment is due the "Nation" for +allowing the sketch on art collecting to be republished. Many readers +will note the similarity between the story "The del Puente Giorgione" and +Paul Bourget's brilliant novelette, "La Dame qui a perdu son Peintre." My +story was written in the winter of 1907, and it was not until the summer +of 1911 that M. Bourget's delightful tale came under my eye. Clearly the +same incident has served us both as raw material, and the noteworthy +differences between the two versions should sufficiently advise the +reader how little either is to be taken as a literal record of facts or +estimate of personalities. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +A Ballade of Art Collectors + +Campbell Corot + +The del Puente Giorgione + +The Lombard Runes + +Their Cross + +The Missing St. Michael + +The Lustred Pots + +The Balaklava Coronal + +On Art Collecting + + + + +A BALLADE OF ART COLLECTORS + + +Oh Lord! We are the covetous. + Our neighbours' goods afflict us sore. +From Frisco to the Bosphorus + All sightly stuff, the less the more, +We want it in our hoard and store. + Nor sacrilege doth us appal-- +Egyptian vault--fane at Cawnpore-- + Collector folk are sinners all. + +Our envoys plot _in partibus_. + They've small regard for chancel door, +Or Buddhist bolts contiguous + To lustrous jade or gold galore +Adorning idol squat or tall-- + These be strange gods that we adore-- +Collector folk are sinners all. + +Of Romulus Augustulus + The signet ring I proudly wore. +Some rummaging _in ossibus_ + I most repentantly deplore. +My taste has changed; I now explore + The sepulchres of Senegal +And seek the pots of Singapore-- + Collector folk are sinners all. + +Lord! Crave my neighbour's wife! What for? + I much prefer his crystal ball +From far Cathay. Then, Lord, ignore + Collector folk who're sinners all. + + + + +CAMPBELL COROT + + +The Academy reception was approaching a perspiring and vociferous close +when the Antiquary whispered an invitation to the Painter, the Patron, +and the Critic. A Scotch woodcock at "Dick's" weighs heavily, even +against the more solid pleasures of the mind, so terminating four +conferences on as many tendencies in modern art, and abandoning four +hungry souls, four hungry bodies bore down an avenue toward "Dick's" +smoky realm, where they found a quiet corner apart from the crowd. It is +a place where one may talk freely or even foolishly--one of those rare +oases in which an artist, for example, may venture to read a lesson to an +avowed patron of art. All the way down the Patron had bored us with his +new Corot, which he described at tedious length. Now the Antiquary barely +tolerated anything this side of the eighteenth century, the Painter was +of Courbet's sturdy following, the Critic had been writing for a season +that the only hope in art for the rich was to emancipate themselves from +the exclusive idolatry of Barbizon. Accordingly the Patron's rhapsodies +fell on impatient ears, and when he continued his importunities over the +Scotch woodcock and ale, the Painter was impelled to express the sense of +the meeting. + +"Speaking of Corot," he began genially, "there are certain +misapprehensions about him which I am fortunately able to clear up. +People imagine, for instance, that he haunted the woods about Ville +d'Avray. Not at all. He frequented the gin-mills in Cedar Street. We are +told he wore a peasant's blouse and sabots; on the contrary, he sported a +frock-coat and congress gaiters. His long clay pipe has passed into +legend, whereas he actually smoked a tilted Pittsburg stogy. We speak of +him by the operatic name of Camille; he was prosaically called Campbell. +You think he worked out of doors at rosy dawn; he painted habitually in +an air-tight attic by lamplight." + +As the Painter paused for the sensation to sink in, the Antiquary +murmured soothingly, "Get it off your mind quickly, Old Man," the Critic +remarked that the Campbells were surely coming, and the Patron asked with +nettled dignity how the Painter knew. + +"Know?" he resumed, having had the necessary fillip. "Because I knew him, +smelled his stogy, and drank with him in Cedar Street. It was some time +in the early '70s, when a passion for Corot's opalescences (with the +Critic's permission) was the latest and most knowing fad. As a realist I +half mistrusted the fascination, but I felt it with the rest, and +whenever any of the besotted dealers of that rude age got in an 'Early +Morning' or a 'Dance of Nymphs,' I was there among the first. For another +reason, my friend Rosenheim, then in his modest beginnings as a +marchand-amateur, was likely to appear at such private views. With his +infallible tact for future salability, he was already unloading the +Institute, and laying in Barbizon. Find what he's buying now, and I'll +tell you the next fad." + +The Critic nodded sagaciously, knowing that Rosenheim, who now poses as +collecting only for his pleasure, has already begun to affect the drastic +productions of certain clever young Spanish realists. + +"Rosenheim," the Painter pursued, "really loved his Corot quite apart +from prospective values. I fancy the pink silkiness of the manner always +appeals to Jews, recalling their most authentic taste, the +eighteenth-century Frenchman. Anyhow, Rosenheim took his new love +seriously, followed up the smallest examples religiously, learned to know +the forgeries that were already afloat--in short, was the best informed +Corotist in the city. It was appropriate, then, that my first relations +with the poet-painter should have the sanction of Rosenheim's presence." + +Lingering upon the reminiscence, the Painter sopped up the last bit of +anchovy paste, drained his toby, and pushed it away. The rest of us +settled back comfortably for a long session, as he persisted. "Rosenheim +wrote me one day that he had got wind of a Corot in a Cedar Street +auction room. It might be, so his news went, the pendant to the one he +had recently bought at the Bolton sale. He suggested we should go down +together and see. So we joggled down Broadway in the 'bus, on what looked +rather like a wild-goose chase. But it paid to keep the run of Cedar +Street in those days; one might find anything. The gilded black walnut +was pushing the old mahogany out of good houses; Wyant and Homer Martin +were occasionally raising the wind by ventures in omnibus sales; then +there were old masters which one cannot mention because nobody would +believe. But that particular morning the Corot had no real competitor; +its radiance fairly filled the entire junk-room. Rosenheim was in +raptures. As luck would have it, it was indeed the companion-piece to +his, and his it should be at all costs. In Cedar Street, he reasonably +felt, one might even hope to get it cheap. Then began our _duo_ on the +theme of atmosphere, vibrancy, etc.--brand new phrases, mind you, in +those innocent days. As Rosenheim for a moment carried the burden alone, +I stepped up to the canvas and saw, with a shock, that the paint was +about two days old. Under what conditions I wondered--for did I not know +the ways of paint--could a real Corot have come over so fresh? I more +than scented trickery. A sketch overpainted---or it seemed above the +quality of a sheer forgery--or was the case worse than that? Meanwhile +not a shade of doubt was in Rosenheim's mind. As I canvassed the +possibilities his _sotto-voce_ ecstasies continued, to the vast +amusement, as I perceived, of a sardonic stranger who hovered unsteadily +in the background. This ill-omened person was clad in a statesmanlike +black frock-coat with trousers of similar funereal shade. A white lawn +tie, much soiled, and congress gaiters, much frayed, were appropriate +details of a costume inevitably topped off with an army slouch hat that +had long lacked the brush. He was immensely long and sallow, wore a +drooping moustache vaguely blonde, between the unkempt curtains of which +a thin cheroot pointed heavenward. As he walked nervously up and down, +with a suspiciously stilted gait, he observed Rosenheim with evident +scorn and the picture with a strange pride. He was not merely odd, but +also offensive, for as Rosenheim whispered _'Comme c'est beau_!' there +was an unmistakable snort; when he continued, _'Mais c'est exquis_!' the +snort broadened into a mighty chuckle; while as he concluded 'Most +luminous!' the chuckle became articulate, in an 'Oh, shucks!' that could +not be ignored. + +"'You seem to be interested, sir,' Rosenheim remarked. 'You bet!' was the +terse response. 'May I inquire the cause of your concern?' Rosenheim +continued placidly. With a most exasperating air of willingness to +please, the stranger rejoined: 'Why, I jest took a simple pleasure, sir, +in seeing an amachoor like you talking French about a little thing I +painted here in Cedar Street.' For a moment Rosenheim was too indignant +to speak, then he burst out with: 'It's an infernal lie; you could no +more paint that picture than you could fly.' 'I did paint it, jest the +same,' pursued the stranger imperturbably, as Rosenheim, to make an end +of the insufferable wag, snapped out sarcastically, 'Perhaps you painted +its mate, then, the Bolton Corot.' 'The one that sold for three thousand +dollars last week? Of course I painted it; it's the best nymph scene I +ever done. Don't get mad, mister; I paint most of the Corots. I'm glad +you like 'em.' + +"For a moment I feared that little Rosenheim would smite the lank annoyer +dead in his tracks. 'For heaven's sake be careful!' I cried. 'The man is +drunk or crazy or he may even be right; the paint on this picture isn't +two days old.' 'Correct,' declared the stranger. 'I finished it day +before yesterday for this sale.' Then a marked change came over +Rosenheim's manner. He grew positively deferential. It delighted him to +meet an artist of talent; they must know each other better. Cards were +exchanged, and Rosenheim read with amazement the grimy inscription +'_Campbell Corot, Landscape Artist_.' 'Yes, that's my painting name,' +Campbell Corot said modestly; 'and my pictures are almost equally as good +as his'n, but not quite. They do for ordinary household purposes. I +really hate to see one get into a big sale like the Bolton; it don't seem +honest, but I can't help it; nobody'd believe me if I told.' Rosenheim's +demeanour was courtly to a fault as he pleaded an engagement and bade us +farewell. Already apparently he divined a certain importance in so +remarkable a gift of mimicry. I stayed behind, resolved on making the +nearer acquaintance of Campbell Corot." + + * * * * * + +"Rosenheim clearly understands the art of business," interrupted the +Antiquary. "And the business of art," added the Critic. "Could your +seedy friend have painted my Corot?" said the Patron in real distress. +"Why not?" continued the Painter remorselessly. "Only hear me out, and +you may judge for yourself. Anyhow, let's drop your Corot; we were +speaking of mine." + +"To make Campbell Corot's acquaintance proved more difficult than I had +expected. He confided to me immediately that he had been a durn fool to +give himself away to my friend, but talk was cheap, and people never +believed him, anyway. Then gloom descended, and my professions of +confidence received only the most surly responses. He unbent again for a +moment with, 'Painter feller, you knowed the pesky ways of paint, didn't +yer?' but when I followed up this promising lead and claimed him as an +associate, he repulsed me with, 'Stuck up, ain't yer? Parley French like +your friend? S'pose you've showed in the Saloon at Paris.' Giving it up, +I replied simply: 'I have; I'm a landscape painter, too, but I'd like to +say before I go that I should be glad to be able to paint a picture like +that.' Looking me in the eye and seeing I meant it, 'Shake!' he replied +cordially. As we shook, his breath met me fair: it was such a breath as +was not uncommon in old-time Cedar Street. Gentlemen who affect this +aroma are, I have noticed, seldom indifferent to one sort of invitation, +so I ventured hardily: 'You know Nickerson's Glengyle, sir; perhaps you +will do me the favour to drink a glass with me while we chat.' Here I +could tell you a lot about Nickerson's." "Don't," begged the Critic, who +is abstemious. "I will only say, then, that Nickerson's, once an +all-night refuge, closes now at three--desecration has made it the yellow +marble office of a teetotaler in the banking line--and the Glengyle, that +blessed essence of the barley, heather, peat, and mist of Old Scotland, +has been taken over by an exporting company, limited. Sometimes I think I +detect a little of it in the poisons that the grocers of Glasgow and +Edinburgh send over here, or perhaps I only dream of the old taste. Then +it was itself, and by the second glass Campbell Corot was quite ready to +soliloquise. You shall have his story about as he told it, but abridged a +little in view of your tender ages and the hour. + + * * * * * + +"John Campbell had grown up contentedly on the old farm under Mount +Everett until one summer when a landscape painter took board with the +family. At first the lad despised the gentle art as unmanly, but as he +watched the mysterious processes he longed to try his hand. The +good-natured Duesseldorfian willingly lent brushes and bits of millboard +upon which John proceeded to make the most lurid confections. The forms +of things were, of course, an obstacle to him, as they are to everybody. +'I never could drore,' he told me, 'and I never wanted to drore like that +painter chap. Why he'd fill a big canvas with little trees and rocks and +ponds till it all seemed no bigger than a Noah's ark show. I used to ask +him, "Why don't you wait till evening when you can't see so much to +drore?"' To such criticism the painter naturally paid no attention, while +John devoted himself to sunsets and the tube of crimson lake. From +babyhood he had loved the purple hour, and his results, while without +form and void, were apparently not wholly unpleasing, for his master paid +him the compliment of using one or two such sketches as backgrounds, +adding merely the requisite hills, houses, fences, and cows. These +collaborations were mentioned not unworthily beside the sunsets of +Kensett and Cropsey next winter at the Academy. From that summer John was +for better or worse a painter. + +"His first local success was, curiously enough, an historical +composition, in which the village hose company, almost swallowed up by +the smoke, held in check a conflagration of Vesuvian magnitude. The few +visible figures and Smith's turning-mill, which had heroically been saved +in part from the flames, were jotted in from photographs. Happily this +work, for which the Alert Hose Company subscribed no less than +twenty-five dollars, providing also a fifty-dollar frame, fell under the +appreciative eye of the insurance adjuster who visited the very ruins +depicted. Recognising immediately an uncommonly available form of +artistic talent, this gentleman procured John a commission as painter in +ordinary to the Vulcan, with orders to come at once to town at excellent +wages. By his twentieth year, then, John was established in an attic +chamber near the North River with a public that, barring change in the +advertising policy of the Vulcan, must inevitably become national. For +the lithographers he designed all manner of holocausts; at times he made +tours through the counties and fixed the incandescent mouth of Vulcan's +forge, the figures within being merely indicated, on the face of a +hundred ledges. That was a shame, he freely admitted to me; the rocks +looked better without. In fact, John Campbell's first manner soon came to +be a humiliation and an intolerable bondage. He felt the insincerity of +it deeply. 'You see, it's this way,' he explained to me, 'you don't see +the shapes by firelight or at sunset, but you have seen them all day and +you know they're there. Nobody that don't have those shapes in his brush +can make you feel them in a picture. Everybody puts too little droring +into sunsets. Nobody paints good ones, not even Inness [we must remember +it was in the early '70s], except a Frenchman called Roosoo. He takes 'em +very late, which is best, and he can drore some too.'" + +"A very decent critic, your alcoholic friend," the Critic remarked. "He +was full of good ideas, as you shall see," the story-teller replied. "I +quite agree with you, if the bad whisky could have been kept away from +him he might have shone in your profession. Anyhow, he had the makings of +an honest man in him, and when the Vulcan enlarged its cliff-painting +programme, he cut loose bravely. Then followed ten lean years of odd +jobs, with landscape painting as a recreation, and the occasional sale of +a canvas on a street corner as a great event. When his need was greatest +he consented to earn good wages composing symbolical door designs for the +Meteor Coach Company, but that again he could not endure for long. Later +in the intervals of colouring photographs, illuminating window-shades, or +whatever came to hand, he worked out the theory which finally led him to +the feet of Corot. It was, in short, that the proper subject for an +artist deficient in linear design is sunrise. + +"He explained the matter to me with zest. 'By morning you've half +forgotten the look of things. All night you've seen only dreams that +don't have any true form, and when the first light comes, nothing shows +solid for what it is. The mist uncovers a little here and there, and you +wonder what's beneath. It's all guesswork and nothing sure. Take any +morning early when I look out of my attic window to the North River. +There's nothing but a heap of fog, grey or pink, as there's more or less +sun behind. It gets a little thick over toward Jersey, and that may be +the shore, or again it mayn't. Then a solid bit of vi'let shows high up, +and I guess it's Castle Stevens, but perhaps it ain't. Then a pale-yellow +streak shoots across the river farther up and I take it to be the +Palisades, but again it may be jest a ray of sunshine. You see there +really ain't no earth; it's all air and light. That's what a man that +can't drore ought to paint; that's what my namesake, Cameel Corot, did +paint better than any one that ever lived.' + +"At this point of his confession John Campbell glared savagely at me for +assent, and set down a sadly frayed and noxious stogy on Nickerson's +black walnut. I hastened to agree, though much of the doctrine was heresy +to a realist, only objecting: 'But one really has to draw a scene such as +you describe just like any other. In fact, the drawing of atmosphere is +the most difficult branch of our art. Many very good painters, like my +master, Courbet, have given it up.' 'Corbet!' he replied contemptuously; +'he didn't give it up; he never even seen it. But don't I know it's hard, +sir? For years I tried to paint it, and I never got nothing but the fog; +when I put in more I lost that. They're pretty, those sketches--like +watered silk or the scum in the docks with the sun on it; but, Lord, +there ain't nothing into 'em, and that's the truth. At last, after +fumbling around for years, I happened to walk into Vogler's gallery one +day and saw my first Corot. Ther' it was--all I had been trying for. It +was the kind of droring I knew ought to be, where a man sets down more +what he feels than what he knows. I knew I was beginning too late, but I +loved that way of working. I saw all the Corots I could, and began to +paint as much as I could his way. I got almost to have his eye, but of +course I never got his hand. Nobody could, I guess, not even an educated +artist like you, or they'd all a don' it.' + + * * * * * + +"After this awakening John Campbell began the artist's life afresh with +high hopes. His first picture in the sweet new style was honestly called +'Sunrise in Berkshire,' though he had interwoven with his own +reminiscences of the farm several motives from various compositions of +his great exemplar. He signed the canvas Campbell Corot, in the familiar +capital letters, because he didn't want to take all the credit; because +he desired to mark emphatically the change in his manner, and because it +struck him as a good painting name justified by the resemblance between +his surname and the master's Christian name. It was a heartfelt homage in +intention. If the disciple had been familiar with Renaissance usages, he +would undoubtedly have signed himself John of Camille. + +"'Sunrise in Berkshire' fetched sixty dollars in a downtown auction room, +the highest price John had ever received; but this was only the beginning +of a bewildering rise in values. When John next saw the picture, Campbell +had been deftly removed, and the landscape, being favourably noticed in +the press, brought seven hundred dollars in an uptown salesroom. John +happened on it again in Beilstein's gallery, where the price had risen to +thirteen hundred dollars--a tidy sum for a small Corot in those early +days. At that figure it fell to a noted collector whose walls it still +adorns. Here Campbell Corot's New England conscience asserted itself. He +insisted on seeing Beilstein in person and told him the facts. Beilstein +treated the visitor as an impostor and showed him the door, taking his +address, however, and scornfully bidding him make good his story by +painting a similar picture, unsigned. For this, if it was worth anything, +the dealer promised he should be liberally paid. Naturally Campbell +Corot's professional dander was up, and he produced in a week a Corotish +'Dance of Nymphs,' if anything, more specious than the last. For this +Beilstein gave him twenty-five dollars, and within a month you might have +seen it under the skylight of a country museum, where it is still +reverently explained to successive generations of school-children. + +"If Campbell Corot had been a stronger character, he might have made +some stand against the fraudulent success his second manner was +achieving. But, unhappily, in those experimental years he had acquired +an experimental knowledge of the whisky of Cedar Street. His irregular +and spend-thrift ways had put him out of all lines of employment. +Besides, he was consumed by an artist's desire to create a kind of +picture that he could not hope to sell as his own. Nor did the voice of +the tempter, Beilstein, fail to make itself heard. He offered an +unfailing market for the little canvases at twenty-five and fifty +dollars, according to size. There was a patron to supply unlimited +colours and stretchers, a pocket that never refused to advance a small +bill when thirst or lesser need found Campbell Corot penniless. Almost +inevitably he passed from occasional to habitual forgery, consoling +himself with the thought that he never signed the pictures and, before +the law at least, was blameless. But signed they all were somewhere +between their furtive entrance at Beilstein's basement and their +appearance on his walls or in the auction rooms. Of course it wasn't the +blackguard Beilstein who forged the five magic letters; he would never +take the risk, 'Blast his dirty soul!' cried Campbell Corot aloud, as he +seethed with the memory of his shame. He rose as if for summary +vengeance, to the amazement of the quiet topers in the room. For some +time his utterance had been getting both excited and thick, and now I +saw with a certain chagrin that the Glengyle had done its work only too +well. It was a question not of hearing his story out, but of getting him +home before worse befell. By mingled threats and blandishments I got him +away from Nickerson's, and after an adventurous passage down Cedar +Street, I deposited him before his attic door, in a doubtful frame of +mind, being alternately possessed by the desire to send Beilstein to +hell and to pray for the eternal welfare of the only genuine Corot." + +"You certainly make queer acquaintances," ejaculated the Patron uneasily. + +"Hurry up and tell us the rest; it's growing late," insisted the +Antiquary, as he beckoned for the bill. + +"I saw Campbell Corot only once more, but occasionally I saw his work, +and it told a sad tale of deterioration. The sunrises and nymphals no +longer deceived anybody, having fallen nearly to the average level of +auction-room impressionism. I was not surprised, then, when running into +him near Nickerson's one day I felt that drink and poverty were speeding +their work. He tried to pass me unrecognised, but I stopped him, and +once more the invitation to a nip proved irresistible. My curiosity was +keen to learn his attitude toward his own work and that of his master, +and I attempted to draw him out with a crass compliment. He denied me +gently. 'The best things I do, or rather did, young feller, are jest a +little poorer than his worst. Between ourselves, he painted some pretty +bum things. Some I suppose he did, like me, by lamplight. Some he +sketched with one hand while he was lighting that there long pipe with +the other. Sometimes, I guess, he was in a hurry for the money. Now, +when I'm painting my level best, like I used to could, mine are about +like that. But people don't know the difference about him or about me; +and mine, as I told your Jew friend, are plenty good enough for +every-day purposes. Used to be, anyway. Nobody can paint like his best. +Think of it, young feller, you and me is painters and know what it +means--jest a little dirty paint on white canvas, and you see the +creeping of the sunrise over the land, the breathing of the mist from +the fields, and the twinkling of the dew in the young leaves. Nobody but +him could paint that, and I guess he never knowed how he done it; he +jest felt it in his brush, it seems to me.' + +"After this outburst little more was to be got from him. In a word, he +had gone to pieces and knew it. Beilstein had cast him off; the works in +the third manner hung heavy in the auction places. Leaning over the +table, he asked me, 'Who was the gent that said, "My God, what a genius I +had when I done that!"?' I told him that the phrase was given to many, +but that I believed Swift was the gent. 'Jest so,' Campbell Corot +responded; 'that's the way I felt the last time I saw Beilstein. He'd +been sending back my things and, for a joke, I suppose, he wrote me to +come up and see a real Corot, and take the measure of the job I was +tackling. So up to the avenue I went, and Beilstein first gave me my +dressing down and then asked me into the red-plush private room where he +takes the big oil and wheat men when they want a little art. There on the +easel was a picture. He drew the cloth away and said: "Now, Campbell, +that's what we want in our business." As sure as you're born, sir, it was +a "Dance of Nymphs" that I done out of photographs eight years ago. But I +can't paint like that no more. I know the way your friend Swift felt; +only I guess my case is worse than his.' + +"The mention of photographs gave me a clue to Campbell Corot's artistic +methods. It appeared that Beilstein had kept him in the best +reproductions of the master. But on this point the disciple was reticent, +evading my questions by a motion to go. 'I'm not for long probably,' he +said, as he refused a second glass. 'You've been patient while I've +talked--I can't to most--and I don't want you to remember me drunk. Take +good care of yourself, and, generally speaking, don't start your whisky +till your day's painting is done.' I stood for some minutes on the corner +of Broadway as his gaunt form merged into the glow that fell full into +Cedar Street from the setting sun. I wondered if the hour recalled the +old days on the farm and the formation of his first manner. + +"However that may be, his premonition was right enough. The next winter I +read one morning that the body of Campbell Corot had been taken from the +river at the foot of Cedar Street. It was known that his habits were +intemperate, and it was probable that returning from a saloon he had +walked past his door and off the dock. His cards declared him to be a +landscape painter, but he was unknown in the artistic circles of the +city. I wrote to the authorities that he was indeed a landscape painter +and that the fact should be recorded on his slab in Potter's Field. I was +poor and that was the only service I could do to his memory." + +The Painter ceased. We all rose to go and were parting at the doorway +with sundry hems and haws when the Patron piped up anxiously, "Do you +suppose he painted my Corot?" "I don't know and I don't care," said the +Painter shortly. "Damn it, man, can't you see it's a human not a +picture-dealing proposition?" sputtered the Antiquary. "That's right," +echoed the Critic, as the three locked arms for the stroll downtown, +leaving the bewildered Patron to find his way alone to the Park East. + + + + +THE DEL PUENTE GIORGIONE + + +The train swung down a tawny New England river towards Prestonville as I +reviewed the stages of a great curiosity. At last I was to see the Del +Puente Giorgione. Long before, when the old pictures first began to speak +to me, I had learned that the critic Mantovani, the master of us all, +owned an early Giorgione, unfinished but of marvellous beauty. At his +death, strangely enough, it was not found among his pictures, which were +bequeathed as every one knows to the San Marcello Museum. The next word I +had of it was when Anitchkoff, Mantovani's disciple and successor, +reported it in the Del Puente Castle in the Basque mountains. He added a +word on its importance though avowedly knowing it only from a photograph. +It appeared that Mantovani in his last days had given the portrait to his +old friend the Carlist Marquesa del Puente, in whose cause--picturesque +but irrelevant detail--he had once drawn sword. Anitchkoff's full +enthusiasm was handsomely recorded after he had made the pilgrimage to +the Marquesa's crag. One may still read in that worthy but short-lived +organ of sublimity, "Le Mihrab," his appreciation of the Del Puente +Giorgione, which he describes as a Giambellino blossoming into a Titian, +with just the added exquisiteness that the world has only felt since Big +George of Castelfranco took up the brush. How the panel exchanged the +Pyrenees for the North Shore passed dimly through my mind as barely worth +recalling. It was the usual story of the rich and enterprising American +collector. Hanson Brooks had bought it and hung it in "The Curlews," +where it bid fair to become legendary once more, but at last had lent it +with his other pictures to the Prestonville Museum of Science and the +Fine Arts, the goal of my present quest. While the picture lay _perdu_ at +Brooks's, there had been disquieting gossip; the Pretorian Club, which is +often terribly right in such matters, agreed that he had been badly sold. +None of this I believed for an instant. What could one doubt in a picture +owned by Mantovani and certified by Anitchkoff? Upon this point of +rumination the train stopped at Prestonville. + +My approach to the masterpiece was reverently deliberate. At the +American House I actually lingered over the fried steak and dallied long +with the not impossible mince pie. Thus fortified, I followed Main +Street to the Museum--one of those depressingly correct new-Greek +buildings with which the country is being filled. Skirting with a shiver +the bleak casts from the antique in the atrium and mounting an absurdly +spacious staircase, I reached a doorway through which the _chef +d'oeuvre_ of my dreams confronted me cheerlessly. Its nullity was +appalling; from afar I felt the physical uneasiness that an equivocal +picture will usually produce in a devotee. To approach and study it was +a civility I paid not to itself but to its worshipful _provenance_. A +slight inspection told all there was to tell. The paint was palpably +modern; the surface would not have resisted a pin. In style it was a +distant echo of the Giorgione at Berlin. Yet, as I gazed and wondered +sadly, I perceived it was not a vulgar forgery--indeed not a forgery at +all. It had been done to amuse some painter of antiquarian bent. I even +thought, too rashly, that I recognised the touch of the youthful Watts, +and I could imagine the studio revel at which he or another had +valiantly laid in a Giorgione before the punch, as his contribution to +the evening's merriment. The picture upon the pie wrought a black +depression that some excellent Japanese paintings were powerless to +dispel. As my train crawled up the tawny river, now inky, my thoughts +moved helplessly about the dark enigma--How could Mantovani have +possessed such rubbish? How could Anitchkoff, enjoying the use of his +eyes and mind, have credited it for a moment? My reflections +preposterously failed to rest upon the obvious clue, the mysterious +Marquesa del Puente, and it was not until I met Anitchkoff, some years +later, that I began to divine the woman in the case. + +After ten years of absence he had come back to America on something like +a triumphal tour. I had promptly paid my respects and now through a +discreet persistency was to have a long evening with him at the +Pretorian. As I studied the dinner card, guessing at his gastronomic +tastes, my mind was naturally on his remarkable career. Anitchkoff, +brought from Russia in childhood, had grown up in decent poverty in a +small New England city. Very early he showed the intellectual ambition +that distinguished all the family. Our excellent public schools made his +way to the nearest country college easy and inevitable. There began the +struggle the traces of which might be read in an almost melancholy +gravity quite unnatural in a man become famous at thirty-five. With the +facility of his race he learned all the languages in the curriculum and +read ferociously in many literatures. In his junior year the appearance +of a great and genial work on psychology made him the metaphysician he +has remained through all digressions in the connoisseurship and criticism +of art. How his search for ultimate principles involved a mastery of the +minutiae of the Venetian school I could only guess. But one could imagine +the process. Seeking to ground his personal preferences in a general +esthetic, he would have found his data absolutely untrustworthy. How +could he presume to interpret a Giorgione or a Titian when what they +painted was undetermined? Upon these shifting sands he declined to rear +his tabernacle. To the work of classifying the Venetians, accordingly, he +set himself with dogged honesty. As a matter of course Mantovani became +his chief preceptor--Mantovani who first discovered that the highly +complex organism we call a work of art has a morphology as definite as +that of a trilobite; that the artist may no more transcend his own forms +than a crustacean may become a vertebrate. For a matter of ten years +Anitchkoff, espousing a fairly Franciscan poverty, gave himself to this +ungrateful task. How he contrived to live in the shadow of the great +galleries was a mystery the solution of which one suspected to be bitter +and heroic. Gradually recognition as an expert came to him and with it an +irksome success. His fame had developed duties, and while his studies in +esthetics remained fragmentary, he was persistently consulted on all +manner of trivialities. From Piedmont to the confine of Dalmatia he knew +every little master that ever made or marred panel or plaster, and he +paid the penalty of such knowledge. Surmising the tragedy of his career +and its essential nobility I had discounted the ugly rumours connecting +him with the sale of the Del Puente Giorgione. When every fool learned +that the Giorgione at "The Curlews" was false, many inferred that +Anitchkoff, having praised it, must have a hand in Brooks's bad +bargain--a conclusion sedulously put about and finally hinted in cold +type by certain rival critics. Personally I knew that Brooks had bagged +his find under quite other advice, but while I would always have sworn to +Anitchkoff's complete integrity in the whole Del Puente matter, my wonder +also grew at so hideous a lapse of judgment. I hopelessly fell back upon +such banalities as the errability of mankind, being conscious all the +time that some special and most curious infatuation must underlie this +particular error. Anitchkoff's card interrupted some such train of +thought. He came in quietly as sunshine after fog. His face between the +curtains reminded me strangely of the awful moment in the Prestonville +Museum--paradoxically, for he was as genuine and reassuring as the Del +Puente Giorgione had been baffling and false. + +We began dinner with the stiffness of men between whom much is unsaid. +As the oystershells departed, however, we had found common memories. He +recalled delightfully those little northern towns in the debatable +region which from a critic's point of view may be considered Lombard or +Venetian, with a tendency to be neither but rather a Transalpine +Bavaria. To me also the glow of the Burgundy on the tablecloth brought +back strange provincial altarpieces in this territory--marvels in +crimson and gold, and a riddle for the connoisseur. Then the talk +reached higher latitudes. He mused aloud about that very simple reaction +which we call the sense of beauty and have resolutely sophisticated ever +since criticism existed--I intent meanwhile and eating most of a mallard +as sanguine as a decollation of the Baptist. By the cheese Anitchkoff +seemed confident of my sympathy, and I, having found nothing amiss in +him except an imperfect enjoyment of the pleasures of the table, was +planning how least imprudently might be raised the topic of the Del +Puente Giorgione. But it was he who spoke first. At the coffee he asked +me with admirable simplicity what people said about the affair, and I +answered with equal candour. + +"You too have wondered," he continued. + +"Of course, but nothing worse," I replied. + +Then with the hesitancy of a man approaching a dire chagrin, and yet with +a rueful appreciation of the humour of the predicament that I despair of +reproducing, he began: + +"It happened about this way. When I first came to Italy and began to meet +the friends of Mantovani, they told me of an early Giorgione he owned but +rarely showed. He used to speak of it affectionately as 'il mio Zorzi,' +to distinguish it perhaps from the more important example he had sold to +one of our dilettante iron-masters. The little unfinished portrait I +heard of, from those whose opinion is sought, as a superlatively lovely +thing. It was mentioned with a certain awe; to have seen it was a +distinction. For years I hoped my time would come, but the opportunity +was provokingly delayed. How should you feel if Mrs. Warrener should show +you all her things but the great Botticelli?" I nodded understandingly. +Mrs. Warrener, for a two minutes' delay in an appointment, had debarred +me her Whistlers for a year. + +"That's the way Mantovani treated me," Anitchkoff continued. "Whenever I +dared I asked for the 'Zorzi,' and he always put me off with a smile. +That mystified me, for I knew he took a paternal pride in my studies, but +I never got any more satisfactory answer from him than that the 'Zorzi' +was strong meat for the young; one must grow up to it, like S---- and +P---- and C---- (naming some of his closest disciples). These allusions +he made repeatedly and with a queer sardonic zest. Occasionally he would +volunteer the encouragement--for I had long ago dropped the +subject--'Cheer up, my boy; your turn will come.' When he so Quixotically +gave the picture to the Marquesa del Puente, it seemed, though, as if my +turn could never come, but I noted that he had been true to his doctrine +that the 'Zorzi' was only for the mature; the Del Puente was said to be +some years his senior. One knew exasperatingly little about her. It was +said vaguely that Mantovani entertained a tender friendship for her, +having been her husband's comrade in arms in half a dozen Carlist +revolts. That seemed enough to explain the gift." + +At this point Anitchkoff must have caught my raised eyebrows, for he +added contritely, "It was odd for Mantovani to give away a Giorgione. +You're quite right. I was ridiculously young." "You may imagine," he +pursued, "that the flight of the Giorgione to the Pyrenees only +embittered my curiosity. For years I might have seen it--shabbily to be +sure--by merely opening a door when Mantovani was occupied, now it had +departed to another planet. Remember those were my 'prentice days when I +lived obscurely and absolutely without acquaintance in the Marquesa's +world. She seemed as inaccessible as the Grand Lama. But you know how +things will come about in least expected ways: Jane Morrison, quite the +only human being who could possibly have known both the Marquesa and me, +actually gave me a very good letter of introduction. Then almost +oppressive good luck, came a note from her mountain Castle, telling that +the Chatelaine would be glad to receive me whenever my travels led me her +way. She mentioned our common enthusiasm for the Venetians and graciously +wanted my opinion on the Giorgione, which the enemies of Mantovani, her +friend and my spiritual father, as she called him, had spitefully +slandered. Such slanders had never happened to reach my ears but I was +already eager to refute them. + +"It was two years later that I made the visit on the way to the Prado. +All day long the diligence rattled up hill away from the railroad, and it +was dusk before I saw the Del Puente stronghold on its crag, evidently a +half hour's walk from the miserable _fonda_ where the diligence dropped +me. It was no hour to present an introduction, but I bribed a boy to take +the letter up that night. He returned, disappointingly, without an +answer. The next morning wore on intolerably amid a noisy squalor that I +could not escape until my summons came. It was early afternoon before an +equerry arrived on muleback bearing the Marquesa's note. She was +enchanted to meet me but desolated at the unlucky time of my arrival. +Tomorrow she crossed the Pyrenees for Paris and hoped my route might lie +that way. Meanwhile her home was wholly dismantled for the winter, and +the ordinary hospitalities were denied her. But she counted on the +pleasure of seeing me at four; we might at least chat, drink a cup of +tea, and pay our homage to Mantovani's 'Zorzi.' Nothing could have been +more charming or more tantalising. As I toiled up towards the Del Puente +barbican I could feel the precious afternoon light dwindling. Breathless +I set the castle bell a-jangling with something like despair. + +"Heavy doors opened in front of me as I passed the sallyport and the +grassgrown courtyard. At the entrance a majordomo in shabby but fairly +regal livery greeted me and conducted me through empty corridors and up +a massive staircase. The castle was indeed dismantled--apparently had +been in that condition from all time. As my superb guide halted before a +door which, exceptionally, was curtained, and knocked, my heart failed +me. I dreaded meeting this strange noblewoman, almost regretted the +nearness of the 'Zorzi,' knowing the actual colours could hardly surpass +those of my fancy. The little speeches I had been rehearsing resolved +themselves into silence again as I saw her by a tiny fire; a compelling +apparition, erect, with snowy hair waving high over burning black eyes. +To-day when I coldly analyse her fascination I recall nothing but these +simple elements. She permitted not a moment of the shyness that has +always plagued me. What our words were I do not now know, but I know +that I kissed the two hands she held out to me as she called me +Mantovani's son and her friend. Then I talked as never before or since, +told her of my struggles and ambitions, and from time to time I was mute +so that I might hear the deep contralto of the French she spoke +perfectly but with Spanish resonance. There was probably tea. Anyhow the +light went away from the deep casements unnoticed, and it was she who, +with a chiding finger, recalled me to duty and the Giorgione. 'Wretch,' +said she, 'you are here to see it not me. The light is going and your +devoirs yet unpaid.' + +"As she took my arm and led me through the gallery, I had an odd +presentiment of going towards a doom. While I followed her up a winding +stair, the misgiving increased. Did venerable lemurs inhabit the Basque +mountains? Could so magnificent; an old age be of this earth? An +ancestral shudder from the Steppes came over me. It was her ruddy train +rustling round the turns ahead that aroused these atavistic +superstitions. But when we stood together on the landing all doubts fell +away; a broad ray of sunlight that struck through an open doorway showed +her spectral beauty to be after all reassuringly corporeal. Over the +threshold she fairly pushed me with the warning, 'The place is holy, we +must be silent.' For a moment I was staggered by the wide pencil of light +that shot through a porthole and cut the room in two. The little octagon, +a tower chamber I took it to be, was a prism of shadow enclosing a shaft +of flying golddust. Outside it must have been full sunset. Near the +border line of light and darkness I faintly saw the 'Zorzi,' which +borrowed a glory from the moment and from her. I felt her hand on my +shoulder and knelt, it seemed for minutes, it probably was for seconds +only. The picture, which I had not seen, much less examined, swam in the +twilight and became the most gracious that had ever met my eyes. The dusk +grew as the disc of light climbed up the wall and faded. She whispered in +my ear, 'It is enough for now. You shall come again many times.' I recall +nothing more except the Marquesa's silvery hair and the long line of her +crimson gown as she bade me 'Au revoir' at the head of the great stairs. +That night in the miserable _fonda_ below I wrote out feverishly the +notes which you have doubtless read in the 'Mihrab,' and I would give my +right hand to be able to forget." + +There was a long pause, during which Anitchkoff sipped his cognac +nervously, waiting for my comment. I pressed him ruthlessly for the +bitter end of the tale. + +"Your hypnotism I grant, but what about Mantovani and Brooks?" I +asked bluntly. + +"For Mantovani I have no right to speak," Anitchkoff replied with +dignity. "He was my master and I can admit no imputation on his memory. +Besides, your guess is as good as mine. Whether he bought the picture +in his precritical days, keeping it as a warning and imposing it upon +his followers as a hoax--this I can merely conjecture. As for Brooks, +the case is simple; he couldn't resist a Giorgione at a bargain. But +since you will, you may as well hear the rest of the story--at least my +part of it. + +"Three years later I wintered in Paris. I had run into Bing's for a chat +and a look at the Hokusais, when who should come in but Hanson Brooks in +a high state of elation. An important purchase had just arrived. He urged +us both to dine and inspect it. Bing was engaged; I glad to accept. At +dinner Brooks teased me to the top of his bent. I was to imagine +absolutely the most important old master in private possession, his for a +beggarly price. I declined to humour him by guessing, and we slurred his +sweets and coffee to hasten to the apartment. On a dressing table faced +to the wall was a little panel which he slowly turned into view. For a +moment I gasped for joy, it was the Del Puente Giorgione; and then an +awful misgiving overcame me--I saw it as it was. Brooks marked my +amazement and, misreading the cause, slapped me on the back and asked +what I thought of that for a hundred thousand pesetas. The figure again +bowled me over. For the picture as it stood it was a thousand times too +much, while a mere tithe of the value of the name the panel bore. I +blurted out that the price was suspiciously wrong, and added that I must +see the portrait by daylight before venturing an opinion. The thought +that Mantovani had owned it for twenty years and more made a sleepless +night hideous; at sunrise my loyalty reasserted itself by a lame +compromise. + +"I daresay you will not blame me for hoping against hope, as I did the +next day and for some months after, that somewhere under that modern +paint there was indeed a sketch by Giorgione's hand. You must remember +that I could as little doubt my own existence as Mantovani's judgment on +such a point. In the sequel it seemed as if no humiliation were to be +spared me. It was Mantovani's chief rival and favourite victim, Merck, +who after a torturing correspondence had the pleasure of telling me he +had seen the 'Zorzi' painted by the amateur Ricard; it was Campbell who, +after recommending it to Brooks, publicly accused me of dishonest +brokerage. That's all I can tell you about the Del Puente Giorgione." + +I seized his hand impulsively, and clumsily offered him, in a breath, +whisky, shuffleboard, or cowboy pool--sound Pretorian remedies for all +human woes. These consolations he refused and took his leave. Midnight +found me in the same chair, thinking less of Anitchkoff, whose case now +lay clear, than of Mantovani and the Marquesa del Puente, about whom it +seemed there still might be something to say. + +The chances of a roving life have brought some slight addition to the +evidence. Stopping over a boat at Dieppe, a few summers ago, I happened +to see my good friend Mme. Vezin registered at the Casino, where I +recognised an acquaintance or two. That decided me to spend the night and +call at her villa. Her salon never failed to divert me, for, drawing +together the most disparate people, she handled them with easy +generalship. Under her chandelier ardent art students from the Middle +West and the poor relations of royalty might be heard exchanging +confidences and foreign tongues. So, as I climbed the hill at the verge +of the chalk and pasture, I felt sure of the unexpected, nor was I +disappointed. Shrill voices from my fellow countrywomen came down the +garden path and assured me that art had accompanied Mme. Vezin in her +annual retreat from the Luxembourg Gardens. Entering I found the same +perfect hostess and much the old dear, queer scene. I was bracing myself +for a polyglot evening--being with all my travel quite incapable of +languages--when the little maid announced importantly Mme. la Marquise +del Puente. All rose instinctively as there entered an erect white-haired +woman simply dressed in a black gown along which hung a notable crimson +scarf. Murmuring the indispensable banalities I bowed distantly, meaning +to observe her impersonally before an encounter. But she disarmed me by +throwing herself on my mercy. She knew me already through dear Mr. Hanson +Brooks. It was her first visit here; I, she saw, was of the household. +Would I not show her the curiosities and protect her from the bores? +Sullenly I followed her while she discussed the bijoux that littered the +shelves, and the deep modulations of her voice insensibly mollified me. I +had intended in Anitchkoff's behalf to count every wrinkle of her +seventy-five unhallowed years, but found myself instead admiring her +cloud of silver hair, avoiding the gaze of her black eyes, and noting +with a kind of fascination the precise gestures of her fine hand as she +took up or set down Mme. Vezin's poor little things. + +At last she settled into an armchair, beckoning me to a footstool, and I +began to talk unconscionably, she urging me on. She professed to know my +writings--it was of course impossible that she should have seen those +rare anonymous letters to the most ladylike of Boston newspapers: she +touched my dearest hobby, that republics and governments generally must +be judged not by their politics but by the amenity of the social life +they foster. Feeling that this was witchcraft or divination even more +questionable, and dreading she had another Giorgione to sell, I made a +last futile effort for freedom, proposing introductions. With a phrase +she subdued me, and my halting French began to be eloquent. I confessed +my innermost ambition, the creation of a criticism learned and judicial +in substance but impressionistic in form. She dwelt upon the beauties of +her eyrie in the Basque mountains which I must one day see. As we chatted +on obliviously an audience of marvelling art students and baigneurs +formed about us quietly. Their serried faces suddenly revealed to me my +ignominious surrender. I started as from a dream and, as she bade me not +forget to call, I kissed her long hand and fled with only a curt farewell +to my hostess. + +The channel breeze and the scent of the clover sobered me up. My pity +went out to Anitchkoff and then I remembered that I had seen Fouquart +at the Casino. It seemed too good to be true. Here at Dieppe were both +this enigmatic Marquesa and the prime repository of all authentic +scandal of our times. For the old dandy Fouquart had lived not wisely +but too well through three generations of cosmopolitan gallantry. Had +the censorship and his literary parts permitted, he could have written +a chronicle of famous ladies that would put the Sieur de Brantome's +modest attempt to shame. I found him among the rabble, moodily playing +the little horses for five-franc pieces, but at the mention of the +Marquesa del Puente he kindled. + +"A grand woman," he said emphatically, as he dragged me to a safe corner, +"a true model to the anemic and neurotic sex of the day." When asked to +specify he told me how the energy and passion of twenty generations of +robber noblefolk had flowered in her. Scruples or fears she had never +known. From childhood attached to the Carlist cause, she had become the +soul of that movement in the Pyrenees. It was she who haggled with +British armourers, traced routes, planned commissariats, and most of all +drew from far and near soldiers of fortune to captain a hopeless cause. +In such recruiting, Fouquart implied, her loyalty had not flinched at the +most personal tests. What seemed to mystify Fouquart was that none of +these whilom champions ever attained the grace of forgetfulness. Every +year many of these tottering old gentlemen still reported at Castle del +Puente, and there she held court as of old. He himself, although their +relations had been not military but civil, occasionally made so idle a +pilgrimage. "To the shrine of our Lady of the crimson teagown," I +ventured. "You too, _mon vieux_!" he chuckled with ironical +congratulations. Ignoring the impertinence, I interposed the name of +Mantovani. "Our respected colleague," Fouquart exclaimed delightedly. +Before Mantovani fuddled his head about pictures he had been a good +blade, taking anyone's pay. For ten years and through half as many little +wars he had been the Marquesa's titular chief of staff. Her husband? +Well, her husband was a good Carlist--and a true philosopher. As I tore +myself away from the impending flow of scandal, Fouquart murmured +regretfully. "Must you go? It is a pity. We have only begun, _a demain_." +But we had really ended, for the next morning, shaking off a nightmare of +a red-robed Lilith who tried to sell me a questionable Zeuxis, I took the +early steamer. Of the Marquesa del Puente, whom I believe to be still at +her castle, I have seen or heard nothing since. + + * * * * * + +After some reflection in the corner of the Pretorian where Anitchkoff +once told me his story, I have come measurably into the clear about the +whole matter. Mantovani's position is plain up to a certain point. Either +the 'Zorzi' was given to him or else he bought it in his hopeful youth. +In either case he surely kept it merely as a solemn hoax on his learned +contemporaries. He may have withheld it from Anitchkoff maliciously, or +again out of simple considerateness for a trusting disciple. When +Mantovani came to set his worldly affairs in order, however, it must have +struck him that the joke could not be perpetuated on the walls of the San +Marcello gallery, while the panel was one that a great connoisseur would +not willingly have inventoried by his executors. It was at this time that +he bestowed the 'Zorzi' upon the Marquesa del Puente, as a final token +between them. It may fairly be assumed that he knew her to be incapable +of believing the precious souvenir to be a veritable Giorgione. Such +simplicity as that gift and credulity presuppose lay neither in his +nature nor in hers. Beyond this point certitudes fail us lamentably, and +we are reduced to an exasperating balance of possibilities. Did he send +the picture as an elaborate and unavoidable slight? or was it essentially +a delicate alms, in view of the Marquesa's known poverty and proved +resourcefulness? or, again, did he with a deeper perversity set the thing +afloat to trouble the critical world after he was gone, foreseeing +perhaps some such international comedy as was actually played with the +'Zorzi' as leading gentleman? All these things must remain problematical +for Mantovani cannot tell, and the Marquesa del Puente will not if indeed +she knows. + + + + +THE LOMBARD RUNES + + +Professor Hauptmann dropped wearily into his chair at the noisy Milanese +_table d'hote_ and snarled out a surly "_Mahlzeit_" to the assembled +feasters. It was echoed sweetly from his left with a languishing +"_Mahlzeit, Herr Professor_." The advance disconcerted him. Resolving +upon a policy of complete indifference to the fluffy and amiable vision +beside him, he devoted himself singly to the food. The _risotto_ +diminished as his knife travelled rhythmically between the plate and his +bearded lips. Conceding only the inevitable, nay the exacted courtesies +to his neighbour, he performed still greater prodigies with the green +peas, and it was not until he leaned back for a deft operation with a +pocket comb, that the vivacious, blue-eyed one got her chance to ask if +it were not the Herr Professor Hauptmann, the great authority on the +Lombard tongue. The query floored him; he could not deny that it was, and +as curlylocks began to evince an intelligent interest in Lombard matters, +his stiffness melted like wax under a burning glass. He was soon if not +the protagonist at least the object of an animated, yes fairly intimate +conversation. + +To non-German eyes the pair were worth looking at. He was clad in +tightfitting sage-green felt, so it appeared, with a superfluity of +straps, buttons, lacings, and harness of all sorts. A conical Tyrol hat +garnished with a cock's plume and faded violets was crushed between his +back and that of the chair. As his large nervous feet reached for the +chairlegs below, one could see an expanse of moss-green stockings, only +half concealed at the extremities by resplendent yellow sandals. Bearded +and moustached after the military fashion, nothing betrayed the professor +except the myopic droop of the head. As for Frauelein Linda Goeritz, no +mere man may adequately describe her. A German new woman of the artistic +stamp, she was pastelling through Lombardy where the Professor was +archeologising. Short, crisp curls gathered about her boyish head. Her +general effect was of a plump bonniness that might yield agreeably to an +audacious arm. She cultivated an aggressive pertness that would have +seemed vulgar, had it not been redeemed by something merely frank and +German. Shortskirted, she wore a high-strapped variant of the prevalent +sandals. The sides of her blue bolero were adorned with stilted yellow +lilies in the top of the Viennese new-art mode. In front her shirtwaist +appeared cool and white, at the sleeves it flowered alarmingly into +something like an India shawl. A string of massive amethysts completed a +discord as elaborate as a harmony of Richard Strauss. Her whole +impression was almost as inviting as it was grotesque. One could not chat +with her without liking her, and it is to be suspected that only a very +guileless or austere male could like her without proceeding to manifest +attentions. + +By the cheese, she had captured her amazed professor, and then she +carried him off bodily for coffee in the Arcade. He talked little, but it +didn't matter, for she talked much and well. Nor could a provincial Saxon +scholar be quite indifferent at finding himself known to an intelligent +and much travelled Viennese. A cousin, it appeared, had followed his +lectures and had highly extolled the ingenuity of his phonology of the +Lombard tongue, a language which was, she must remember--a hesitating +pause--yes, surely East--"East Germanic, Ja wohl!" responded the +Professor thunderously, though idiots had written to the contrary. And +then he told her at length the reasons why, until she pleaded her early +morning sketching and firmly bound him to accompany her the next +afternoon to the Certosa of Pavia. The Herr Professor rarely paid much +attention to hands, but as he held Frauelein Goeritz's for Good Night he +could not but note that it was soft and filled his big grip so well that +he was sorry when it was gone. He dismissed the observation, however, as +unworthy a philologer and went to sleep pondering a new destruction for +the knaves who held the Lombard tongue to be not East but West Germanic. + +And here, to appreciate the weight and importance of Linda's fish, a +little explanation is necessary. Hauptmann was not merely a philologer, +which is a formidable thing in itself, but he belonged to the esoteric +group that deals with languages which have no literature. As he had often +remarked, any fool could compile a grammar of a language that has left +extensive documents; the process was almost mechanical, but to +reconstruct a grammar of a language that has left practically no remains, +that required acumen. Hauptmann did not belong, however, to the +transcendental school that creates purely inferential languages--East +Germanic and West, General Teutonic, Original Slavic, Indo-European and +the like. These are the _Dii majores_ and their inventions are as +complete as if one should detect, say, the relation of the little to the +big fleas not by the cunning use of the microscope but by sheer +inference. This larger game Hauptmann sagaciously left to others, ranging +himself with those who piece together the scanty and uncertain fragments +of languages that have existed but have failed to perpetuate themselves +in documents and inscriptions. Vandalic had powerfully allured him, and +so had Old Burgundian: he had had designs also upon Visigothic, and had +finally chosen Lombard rather than the others because the material was +not merely defective but also delightfully vague, affording a wide +opportunity for genuine philological insight. And indeed to classify a +language on the basis of a phrase scratched on a brooch, the +misquotations of alien chroniclers, the shifting forms of misspelled +proper names, is a task compared with which the fabled reconstruction of +leviathan from a single bone is mere child's play. + +From the mere scraps and hints of Lombard words in Paul the Deacon and +other historians anybody but a German would have declined to draw any +conclusion whatever. But just as every German citizen however humble, +becomes eventually a privy counsellor, a knight of various eagles of +diverse classes, an overstationmaster, or a royal postman, so German +science for the past hundred years has permitted no fact to languish in +its native insignificance. All have been promoted to be the sponsors of +imposing theories. And Hauptmann's theory, which got him the degree of +Ph.D., _maxima cum laude_, was that Lombard is an East Germanic tongue. +This he simple intuited, needing the degree, for the fifty mangled +Lombard words displayed none of those consonants which tending to double +or of those vowels which still vexing us as umlauts, mark a language as +belonging to the great Eastern or Western group. But Hauptmann was first +in the field, and if it was impossible for him to demonstrate that he was +right, it was equally impossible for anybody else to prove that he was +wrong. So he stood his ground and by dint of continually hitting the same +nail on the same head he had so greatly flourished that he was mentioned +respectfully as far as the Lombard tongue was known, and at thirty-four +had passed from the honourable but unpaid condition of Privat-dozent to +that of Professor Extraordinarius. + +Now if the Lombards, having ignominiously taken to Latin after their +descent upon Italy, had had to wait for Hauptmann to provide them with a +language, they had left certain more substantial traces of themselves in +the valley of the Po. They died and were buried in state with their arms +and utensils for the other world. So that, while one might well be in +doubt whether an inscription was Lombard or not, an antiquary will tell +you without fail whether a clasp, a spearhead or a sword is or is not the +work of this conquering but too adaptable race. In these archaeological +matters Hauptmann took a forced and languid interest. During nightmarish +hours, when the beer and cheese had not mingled aright, he was haunted by +lines of Lombard runes. Sometimes they were East Germanic, and that was a +grief, taking, as it were, the bloom from the guess that had made him +great; and again they were West Germanic, and that was awful, the +hallucination ending in a mortal struggle with the feather bed under +which German science is incubated, and passing off with an anguished +"Donnerwetter! It cannot be Lombard. It is not possible." His not +infrequent Italian trips had, then, an archaeological pretext, and this +had been more or less the purpose of the pilgrimage in which Frauelein +Linda had become by main force an alluring if disquieting incident. + +If there is anywhere in the world a more satisfactory sight than the +Pavian Certosa, certainly neither Hauptmann nor his chance acquaintance +had ever seen it. And indeed is there anywhere else such spaciousness of +cloisters, such profusion of minutely cut marble, such incrustation, for +better or worse, of semiprecious stones. Surely nothing in a sightseeing +way approaches it as a money's worth. Frauelein Linda, a superior person +who had begun to entertain doubts as to the externals of modern Austrian +palaces and the internals of new German liners, reserved her enthusiasms +for the pale Borgonones so strangely misplaced amid all that splendour. +Hauptmann, on the contrary, admired it all impartially. The sense of bulk +and inordinate expensiveness made him for a moment almost regret that +these later Lombards who reared this pile were not of the same race-stock +with himself. There was a moment in which he could have claimed them, had +principle permitted, as West Germans. Rather he soon forgot the Lombards +in the alternate rapture and dismay aroused by the petulant yet strangely +winning personality beside him. Professor Hauptmann was used neither to +being contradicted nor managed by mere women folk, and this afternoon he +was undergoing both experiences simultaneously. It was with a feeling of +relief that he left the Certosa, which seemed in a way her territory, and +started out with her upon the neutral highroad that led to the station. +They lingered, for the hour was propitious, and their plan was to kill an +hour or so before the evening train. As the glow came over the lowlying +fields, the weary forms of the labourers began to fill the road. At a +distance Hauptmann perceived one who importunately offered a small object +to the sightseers and was as regularly repulsed. Without waiting for the +professor, who stood at attention while Frauelein Linda sketched, this +beggar or pedlar approached and prayed to be allowed to show a rare and +veritable object of antiquity. A gruff refusal had already been given +when she pleaded that they hear the peasant talk, and inspect his +treasure. "Who knows, Herr Professor, but it might be Lombard?" "Wohlan," +he replied, and sullenly took the proffered spearhead. It was of iron, +patined rather than rusted, Lombard in form, and of evident antiquity. +Hauptmann gave it a nearsighted look and was about to return it +contemptuously when the peasant urged, "But look again, sir, there are +letters, a rarity." "I dare you to read them," cried Frauelein Linda, and +the Professor read painfully and copied roughly in his notebook a short +inscription in some Runic alphabet. A scowl followed the reading and the +abrupt challenge "Where did you find this piece?" "In the fields, +digging, Padrone," was the answer, "where I dug up also this," displaying +a bronze clasp of unquestionable Lombard workmanship. "Bravo," exclaimed +Linda, "now perhaps we shall know more about your dear Lombards. I +congratulate you, Herr Professor, from the heart." "Aber nein," he +growled back, "there were monuments enough already, and this is only a +bore, for I must buy and publish it. Others too may be found in the same +field, and Lombard will become a popular pastime. It is disgusting; +compassionate me. It was the single language that permitted truly +a-priori approach. It would be almost a duty to suppress these accursed +runes for the sake of scientific method. But no; the harm is done. We +must be patient." + +What the Herr Professor said and continued to say as he drove a hard +bargain with the peasant was but half the story. A glance at the runes +had shown an awful double consonant, and, as if that were not enough, an +appalling modified vowel. By a single word scratched by the untutored +hand of a rude warrior the most ingenious linguistic hypothesis of our +times was shattered beyond hope of repair. The spearhead was Lombard, +and Lombard, dire reflection to one who had gained fame by maintaining +the contrary, belonged to the West Germanic group of the Teutonic +tongues. Wild thoughts went through his head. He recalled that Paris had +seemed worth a mass, and considered a plenary retraction with a +facsimile publication of the runes. But as he pondered this course the +inexpediency of sacrificing so fair a theory to this mere brute fact +seemed indisputable. He thought also of ascribing the doubled consonant +and the modified vowel to the illiterate blundering of the spearman who +chiselled the letters. But as his fingers traced the sharp and +purposeful strokes he realised that such a contention would be laughed +out of the philological court. For a mad moment he thought of destroying +the miserable bit of iron, but in the first place that was in itself +difficult, and then the chattering lady at his side knew that he was in +possession of a Runic inscription, probably Lombard. She was widely +connected and would certainly babble in the very city where his bitter +rival Professor Anlaut had maintained that Lombard was West Germanic. As +Hauptmann noticed that the road had become deserted, that the dusk had +increased, and that Frauelein Linda's observations on the luckiness of +the "find" were interminable, a homicidal fancy just grazed the border +of his agitated consciousness. But no, that would not do either; the +scientific conscience forbade the destruction of any datum however +embarrassing. Destroy the spearhead he could not, and with a flash of +intuition it came over him that it must simply be lost as promptly and +hopelessly as possible. + +But this too was by no means easy. As they strolled down the road, ditch +after ditch in the lower fields presented itself as apt for the purpose, +but never the favourable moment. In fact Frauelein Linda's talk came back +to the accursed runes with exasperating persistency. They would confirm +his theory. She was happy in being present at this auspicious discovery. +It would be a cause wherefore she should not wholly be forgotten. It was +this sentimental hint that gave a reasonable hope of taking her mind off +the runes, and the harassed philologer set himself resolutely to the +task. For her slight advances he found bolder responses, and still +scanning the irrigating ditches closely for an especially oozy bottom, he +expatiated on the loveliness of the afterglow and confirmed the +recollection of last evening that Frauelein Linda's dimpled hand might be +an eminently pleasant thing to hold. Thus gradually she was won from the +Lombard runes to more personal interests, and as in the slow progress +towards the station they neared a bridge, Hauptmann divined the spot +where the East Germanic hypothesis lately in peril of death might receive +an indefinite reprieve. + +He found Linda, as he now called her, neither disinclined to sit on the +parapet nor to receive the support of his arm. Her chatter had dwindled +to sighs and exclamations. He felt the need of a competing sound as the +chug of the spearhead in the ditch should announce the discomfiture of +the West Germans. But before committing the telltale runes to this +ditch, Hauptmann scanned it carefully over Linda's curly head, and +considered thoughtfully its worthiness to receive so important a +deposit. The survey could not have been more reassuring. Like so many of +the main irrigating ditches that carry the water of Father Po and his +tributaries to the lower fields, the sluggish stream consisted equally +of water, weeds, and ooze. No Lombard or other object held in that +mixture was likely soon to be found. There was a moment of tense silence +and then a single plucking sound which various eavesdroppers might have +located at the surface of the ditch or near Linda's plump left cheek. +Neither guess would have been wrong, for if she sighed once more it was +not for the vanishing Lombard runes. + +Frauelein Linda Goeritz is, if something of a sentimentalist, also a bit of +an analyst, and when, in the train, she learned that the spearhead was +lost she accepted Hauptmann's cheerful comment with a certain scepticism. +He insisted with a suspicious vivacity that it didn't matter, that indeed +he preferred to have the merely professional reminiscence eliminated from +an experience that had personally moved him so deeply. To this reading of +the affair she naturally could not object, but as she gave him her hand +quite formally for farewell, she said: "To-night you have forgotten the +runes, tomorrow you forget me, nicht wahr? You are wrong. Them you will +not find again: there are many of me. You should have forgotten me +first." She escaped while a protest was on his lips. + +Since that evening Frauelein Goeritz has followed Professor Hauptmann's +brilliant career with a certain interest and perplexity. He has ceased to +be an Extraordinarius, but his promotion was based on his ingenious +researches in Vandalic. After that trip to the Certosa he discontinued +all Lombard studies, and, it is said, actually withdrew from publication +a scathing article in which the West Germanic contingent were handled +according to their deserts. She has a vague and not wholly comfortable +feeling of having counted for something as a deterrent, and she has been +heard to hint that his strange distaste for his favourite Lombard +investigations, is due to a deep and intimates cause--an unfortunate +affair of the heart associated with that historic region. + + + + +THEIR CROSS + + +How their cross reached Fourth Avenue one may only surmise, but there +surely was knavery at some point of its transit. It was too splendid in +its enamelling, too subtle in the chiselling of its gilded silver to have +slipped into the byways of the antiquary's trade with the consent of the +Tuscan bishop who controlled or should have controlled its sale. For the +matter of that, it still contained one of St. Lucy's knuckles, which in +case of a regular transaction would have been transferred to a less +precious reliquary. No, there must have been a pilfering sacristan, or +worse, a faithless priest, to explain its translation from the Chianti +hills to Novelli's shop in Fourth Avenue. + +Once there it was certain that one day or another John Baxter must find +it. How he became infected with the collector's greed and acquired the +occult knowledge that feeds that malady it would take too long to tell. +Yet it may be said that the yearning amateur was about the only potent +ingredient in the mild composite that was John Baxter. His eyes, skin, +hair, and raiment had never seemed of any particular colour, nor did he +as a whole seem of any especial size. His parents, who were neither rich +nor poor, cultured nor the contrary, had sent him to an indifferent +school and college. In the latter he had joined a middling chapter of a +poorish fraternity, and, was graduated with a rank that was neither high +nor low. During those four easy going years he had played halfhearted +baseball and football, and had all but made the "Literary Monthly." + +On entering the world, as the phrase goes, he came into possession of a +small patrimony and accepted a minor editorial position on a feeble +religious monthly. For the ensuing fifteen years John Baxter overtly read +manuscripts, composed headlines for edifying extracts, even wrote +didactic little articles on his own account. Secretly, meanwhile, the +lust of the eye was claiming him, and he was becoming surcharged with a +single great passion. + +His ascent through books, prints, Colonial furniture, miniatures, rugs, +and European porcelain to the dizzy heights of Chinese porcelain and +Japanese pottery and painting, it would be tedious and unprofitable to +follow. It is enough to say that all along the course his dull grey eye +emphatically proved itself the one thing not mediocre about him. It +grasped the quality of a fine thing unerringly; it sensed a stray good +porcelain from the back row of the auction room. How he knew without +knowing why was a mystery to his fellows and even to himself. For if he +frequented the museums of New York, and had made one memorable pilgrimage +to the Oriental collections of Boston, he was quite without travel, and +his education had been chiefly that of the shops and salesrooms. Thus his +finds represented less knowledge than an active faith which served as +well. A Gubbio lustre jug of museum rank had been bought before he knew +the definition of majolica. Before he had learned the peril of such a +hazard he had fearlessly rescued a real Kirman mat from an omnibus sale. +His scraps of old Chinese bronze and stoneware represented the promptings +of a demon who had yet to discover the difference between Sung and +Yungching. + +These achievements gave John Baxter a certain notoriety in his world and +the unusual luxury of self esteem. What brought him the scorn of blunter +associates, who openly derided him as a crank, assured him a certain +deference from the _cognoscenti_. The small dealers respected him as an +authority; the auctioneers greeted him by name as he slipped into his +chair, and appealed to him personally when a fine lot hung shamefully. He +had the entree at two or three of the more discerning among the great +dealers, who occasionally asked his opinion or gave him a bargain. In +short a really impressive John as he sees himself was growing up within +the skin of poor John Baxter, feeble scribbler for the weak-kneed +religious press. As he looked about his cluttered room of an evening he +could whisper proudly, "No, it's not a collection, but I can wait. And +there is meanwhile nothing in this room that is not good, very good of +its type." Sometimes in more expansive musings he would take out of its +brocaded bag a wooden tobacco box artfully incrusted with lacquer, +pewter, and mother of pearl, the work of the great Korin, and would +declare aloud, "Nobody has anything better than this, no museum, +certainly no mere millionaire." + +Such days and nights had fed an already inordinate craving. He burned +for the beautiful things just beyond his grasp, suffered for them amid +his morning moralisings, dreamt of them at night. His was never the +disinterested love of the beautiful that certain lucky collectors retain +through all the sordidness of the quest. Had you observed John in the +auction room you would have felt something concentratedly feline in his +attitude and would hardly have been surprised had he pounced bodily upon +a fine object as it passed near him down the aisle. No other ghost of +the auction rooms--and strange enthusiasts they are, had an eye that +gleamed with so ominous a fire. There is peril in turning even a weak +will into a narrow channel. It may exert amazing pressures--like the +slender column of mere water that lifts a loaded car to, or with bad +direction, through, the roof. + + * * * * * + +Whether we should call John Baxter's courtship and marriage a digression +or the culmination of his career as a collector might have remained +doubtful were it not for the cross in Fourth Avenue. When he found it, +hardly a week before he met Miriam Trent, he naturally did not take it +for a touchstone. That it was in a manner such, may be inferred from the +fact that the anxious morning before the wedding, he stopped at Novelli's +for a last look, a ceremony strangely parodying the bachelor supper of +more ordinary bridegrooms. After a lingering survey of its deep +translucent enamels penned within crisply chiselled silver, like tiny +lakes rimmed by ledges, he handed the cross back to the reverent Novelli. +It had never looked more desirable, he barely heard Novelli's genial +congratulation on the coming of the great day, as he wondered how so +splendid a rarity had stayed in that little shop for two years. On +reflection the reason was simple. The price, six hundred dollars, was a +shade high for another dealer to pay, while the cross itself was so fine +an object as merely to excite the distrust of Novelli's average +customers. "Fools," muttered John, "how little they know," and hurried +towards the florist's. As he made his way back towards an impressive +frock-coat, his first, he found himself recalling with a certain +satisfaction that even if this were not his wedding day, he really never +could have hoped to buy the cross. + +What Miriam Trent would have thought had she learned that her bridegroom +waived all comparison between herself and the cross only because it was +unattainable, one may hardly surmise. But as a sensible person who +already knew John's foible and was accustomed to making allowances, she +possibly would have been amused and just a bit relieved. She was +everything that he was not. Where one passion absorbed him, she gave +herself gladly to many interests and duties. A second mother to her +numerous small brothers and sisters, and to her amiable inefficient +father as well, she had somehow managed school and college for herself, +and in accepting John and his worldly goods she gave up a decently paid +library position. The insides of books were also familiar to her, in +impersonal concerns she had a shrewd sense of people, in general she +faced the world with a brave and delicate assurance. Finally she believed +with fervour the creed and ethics that John happened to inculcate every +week, and it is to be feared that she took him for a prophet of +righteousness. Armed at all points that did not involve her personal +interests, there was she peculiarly vulnerable. She must have accepted +John, aside from the glamour of his edifying articles, simply because of +his evident and plaintively reasserted need of her. + +Yet they were very happy together, as people who marry on this unequal +basis often are. After their panoramic week at Niagara, along the St. +Lawrence, and home by the two lakes and the Hudson, they settled down in +John's room, which by the addition of two more had been promoted to being +the living room of an apartment. Her few personal possessions made a +timid, tolerated appearance between his gilt Buddhas and pewter jugs. But +she herself queened it easily over the bizarre possessions now become +hers. Had you seen her of an evening, alert, fragile, golden under the +lamp, and had you seen John's vague glance turn from a moongrey row of +Korean bowls to her deeper eyes, you would have been convinced not merely +that he regarded her as the finest object in his collection, but also +that he was right. It would be intrusive to dwell upon the joys and +sorrows of light housekeeping in New York on a small income. Enough to +say that the joys preponderated in this case. They read much together, he +gradually cultivated an awkward acquaintance with her friends--he had +practically none, and at times she made the rounds of the curiosity shops +and auctions with him. Here, she explained, her part was that of +discourager of enthusiasm, but repression was never practised in a more +sympathetic and discerning spirit. Her taste became hardly inferior to +his, and their barren quests together established a new comradeship +between them. It was probably, then, merely an accident that he never +included Novelli's in these aimless rounds, and so never showed her the +enamelled cross. + +In the long run their imaginary foraging, always a recreation to her, +became a sore trial to him. With the demonstration that two really cannot +live cheaper than one, the old covetousness smouldering for want of an +outlet once more burned hotly within. It expressed itself outwardly in a +general uneasiness and irritability. The little fund, her money and his, +that lay in savings bank began to spend itself fantastically. One day he +reckoned that two-thirds of the cross had been put by, and banished the +disloyal thought with difficulty. Visionary plans of selling something +and making the collection pay for itself were entertained, but when it +came to the point nothing could be spared. Perhaps the gnawings of this +hunger might have been controlled, had he thought to confide in Miriam. +More likely yet, a system of rare and strictly limited indulgence might +have banked the fires between times. However that be, the thwarted +collector was to be sunk for a time in the devoted husband. Miriam lay +ill of a wasting fever. + +After a two days' trial of the rooms, the doctor and the trained nurse, +who scornfully slept amid the collection, regarding it as a permanent +centre of infection, declared the situation impossible, and with the +slightest preliminary consultation of bewildered John, white-coated men +were sent for, who carried Miriam to the hospital. About her door John +hung like a miserable debarred ghost, for after the first few days her +mind wandered painfully, and his presence excited her dangerously. For +weeks he vacillated between perfunctory work at the office, +unsatisfactory talks with busy doctors and impatient nurses, and long +apprehensive hours in what had been home. In "Little Venice," in the best +powder-blue jar and the rest, he found no solace, on the contrary, the +occasion of revolting suggestions. There was an imp that whispered that +she must die and that he should resume collecting. With horror he fled +the evil place, and spent an endless night on tolerance within hearing of +her moanings. + +Fevers have this of merciful, that a term is set for them. Her malady +though it often maims cruelly rarely kills. The temperature line on the +chart, which for days had described a Himalaya, dwindled suddenly to a +Sierra, as quickly to an Appalachian, and then became a level plain. +Terribly wracked by the ordeal but safe they pronounced her. The visiting +physician occasionally omitted her in his daily round. But convalescence +was more trying than the struggle with the fever. The lethargic hours +seldom brought either sleep or rest. Beset by nervous fears, the +collective suffering of the giant building weighed upon her, and she +begged to be taken home. + +It was a pathetic triumphal entry that she made among their household +gods. The sheer grotesqueness of her home struck her painfully for the +first time, as she was helped to an ancient chair that stood before the +suspended Kirman rug--her throne John had always called it. As she once +more occupied it, there came a curious revulsion against her gorgeously +shabby domain. Other women, she reflected, had neat places, cool expanses +of wallpaper, furniture seemly set apart. She resented the stuffiness of +it all, the air of musty preciousness that pervaded the room. And when +John took both her hands and said: "Now the collection is itself again; +the queen has come home," she broke down and cried. She did much of that +in the weeks that followed. You would have supposed her another person +than plucky Miriam Baxter. But the situation hardly made for +cheerfulness. Light housekeeping being no longer practicable, they +depended on the unwilling ministrations of a slovenly maid. John, who, to +do him justice, had never boasted much surplus vitality, felt vaguely +that something was now due from him that he could not supply. To escape +an inadequacy that was painful he drifted back to the exhibitions and +sales, this time alone. He never bought anything, for he was saving +manfully for a purpose that daily increased in his mind. He would pay +with his pocketbook what with his person he could not. + +His always modest luncheon reduced itself to a sandwich, he walked to +save carfares, cut off two Sunday newspapers, wore a threadbare spring +overcoat into the winter. Then one day he took Miriam to a famous +specialist from whom they learned very much what they already knew, but +with the advantage of working orders. The great man told John in brief +that it was a bad recovery which might readily become worse. A change and +open air life were imperative; a sea voyage would be best. If such a +change were not made, and soon, he would not be answerable for the +consequences. + +All this John retold in softened form to Miriam in the waiting room. "We +might as well give it up," she said resignedly. "Of course we can't +travel. We haven't the money, and you can't get away." With the nearest +approach to pride he had ever shown in a nonaesthetic matter John +protested that he could get away, and better yet that there was money, +five hundred good dollars, more than enough for a glimpse at the Azores +and Gibraltar, a hint of rocky Sardinia, a day at Naples, a quiet +fortnight on the sunny Genoese Riviera, and then home again by the long +sea route. His thin voice rose as he pictured the voyage. Even she +caught something of his spirits, and as they got off the car near +Novelli's, by a sudden inspiration John said, "Now for being a good +girl, and doing what the doctor says, you shall see the most beautiful +thing in New York." + +In a minute Novelli was carefully taking the precious thing from its +drawer and solemnly unfolding the square of ruby velvet in which it lay. +Miriam saw the rigid Christ, at the left Mary Mother in azure enamel, at +the right the Beloved Apostle in Crimson. From the top God Father sent +down the pearly dove through the blue. Below, a stately pelican offered +its bleeding breast to the eager bills of its young. And it all glowed +translucently within its sharp Gothic mouldings. Behind, the design was +simpler--in enamelled discs the symbols of the evangelists. St. Lucy's +knuckle lay visible under a crystal lens at the crossing, and surely +relic of a saint was seldom encased more splendidly. Even pathetic Miriam +kindled to it. "Yes, it is the most beautiful thing in New York," she +admitted. "I suppose it costs a fortune, Mr. Novelli." "No, a mere +nothing, for it, six hundred dollars." "Why, we might almost buy it," she +cried. "It's lucky you haven't saved more, John. I really believe you +would buy it." "I'd like to sell it to Mr. Baxter," said Novelli, "he +understands it," only to be cut short with a brusque, "No, it's out of +our class, but I wanted Mrs. Baxter to see it, and I wanted you to know +that she appreciates a fine object as much as I do." "Evidently," said +Novelli as they parted. "I hope she will do me the honour of coming in +often; there are few who understand, and whether they buy or not I am +always glad to have them in my place." + +About a week later John Baxter closed and locked his office desk, hurried +down to the savings bank, and drew five hundred dollars. Most of it was +to go into steamer tickets forthwith, a little balance was to be changed +into Italian money. As he meditated a route downtown, he recalled the +only adieu still left unpaid. To be sure the cross had remained for three +years at Novelli's but it might go forever any day, and with it a great +resource for a weary moralist. Farewells were plainly in order, and with +no other thought he walked back to the shop and greeted Novelli, who +without waiting to be asked produced the crimson parcel that contained +the precious relic. As John looked it over from panel to panel, as if to +stamp every composition upon his memory, Novelli watched him, reflected, +hesitated, smiled benevolently, and spoke. "Mr. Baxter, I am in great +need of money and must sacrifice the cross. I want you to take it. +Vogelstein has offered me four hundred and fifty dollars for it but he +shall not have it if I can sell it to anybody who deserves it better and +will value it. It is yours at that price. What do you say?" + +John tried for words that failed to come. + +"It's a bargain, Mr. Baxter," pursued Novelli, "but of course if you +don't happen to have the money there's nothing more to say." + +"But I have it right here," retorted John in perplexity, "only it's for +quite a different purpose." + +"You know your own business, of course, and I don't urge you, but if you +have the money and don't take it, you make a great mistake. You know that +well enough, and then remember how Mrs. Baxter admired it the other day." + +"Yes-s," faltered John dubiously. + +"Then why do you hesitate? You know what it is, and what it is worth, as +an investment, I mean. By taking your time and selling it right you can +surely double your money." + +"But"-- + +"No, there it is. I am honestly doing you a favour," and Novelli thrust +the swathed cross into the hands of his fairly hypnotised customer. +John's left hand clutched it instinctively, while with the frightened +fingers of his right he counted off nine fifty dollar bills. + +"Thank you, Mr. Baxter, neither you nor your wife will ever regret it. +Nobody in America has anything finer, and that you know." + +These words pounded terribly in John's brain as he found his way home, +stumbled up stairs, and boggled with the latchkey. All the way down, +unheeded passersby had wondered at the crimson burden (he had not waited +for a parcel to be made) hugged closely to the shabby black cutaway. The +danger signal smote Miriam in the eyes as she rose to be kissed. Standing +away from her, he placed the shrouded cross on the table and tried for +the confession that would not say itself. + +"Why, it's our cross," she cried wonderingly. "Mr. Novelli has lent it to +us for a last look before we go where the lovely thing was made. But, +John, what's the matter? How you do look! Has something awful happened?" + +"Yes," and the pale nondescript head sunk into his hands. "I have bought +it. I don't know how. I had the money, I was there, and I bought it." + +She repressed the word that was on her lips, and the harder thought that +was in her mind, looked long at his humiliation until the pity of a +mother came over her tired face. She had mercifully escaped scorning him. +Then she spoke. + +"It was a bad time to buy it, wasn't it, Dear, but it is a beautiful +thing, almost worth a real trip to Italy." She added with a curious air +of a suppliant, "And then perhaps we can sell it." + +"Yes, that's so, perhaps we can sell it," echoed John listlessly, +wrapping the cross closely in its crimson cover and laying it in his most +treasured lacquer box. "Yes, perhaps we can sell it," he repeated, and +there was a long silence between them. + + + + +THE MISSING ST. MICHAEL + + +Dennis, our Epicurean sage, addressed us all as we lolled on his terrace, +drank his tea, and divided our attention between his fluent wisdom and +his spacious view of the Valdarno. + +"The question is," he repeated, "what will Emma do? Will she be brave, +or, rather ordinary enough, to act for herself and him, or will she +refuse him because of what she thinks we shall think of them both? As we +calmly sit here she may be deciding. That is if you are sure, Harwood, +that Crocker was really bound for Emma's when you saw him." + +"How could anybody mistake his beaming Emma face?" growled Harwood. "He +was marching like a squad of Bersaglieri." "And she knows that Crocker +wants it terribly?" added the Sage's wife. + +"She does, indeed," sighed Frau Stern repentantly, "for that demon +(pointing to Harwood) did tell me and I haf, babylike, told her." + +"Here is the case, then," resumed Dennis: "She knows we know Crocker +wants her and it, but she doesn't know he doesn't know she has it." + +"Precisely, most clearly and gracefully put, my dear," laughed +Mrs. Dennis. + +"And she knows, too," he pursued imperturbably, "that we may think he +wants her merely for it." + +"Bravo!" puffed Harwood smokily from his camp-stool. "She is too clever +to expect any weak generosity from any of us. She believes we will think +the worst. And won't we? Viva Nietzsche, and perish pity!" + +"Shame upon us, then," cried Frau Stern. "She will gif up that fine young +man for fear of our talk? Never!" + +"She will send him away, dear Frau Stern, the moment he gives her the +chance," declared Dennis. "What else can she do? She can never take the +chance of our surmises. Behold us, the destroyers! The victims are +prepared." + +"Can't we do something about it?" Harwood chuckled. "Repent? Be as +harmless as doves? Let's write a roundrobin solemnly stating that, to +the best of our knowledge and belief, he wants her for herself and +not for it." + +"Gently," exclaimed Mrs. Dennis, as she blew out Harwood's poised and +lighted match. "You surely don't imagine Crocker will propose the very +day she shows it to him." + +"My dear," protested Dennis, "don't we all know him well enough to +understand that any shock will produce that effect? If his mother died or +his horse, his vines got the scale, his Ghirlandaio sprung a crack, his +university gave him an honorary degree--these would all be reasons for +proposing to Emma. Dear old Crocker is like that; any jolt would affect +him that way." + +"Has it occurred to anybody that Emma may have foreseen just this +complication and quietly got rid of it first?" suggested Mrs. Dennis, the +really practical member of our group, adding, "That's how I'd have served +you if I'd wanted him." + +"Never," responded Dennis. "She loves it too well, and then she would +feel we felt she had spirited it away on purpose." + +"Besides," continued Harwood, whose buried aspirations Emmawards had long +ago flowered into a minute analysis of her moods, "she is true blue, you +know. She will never serve us like that. She may immolate the mighty +Crocker upon the altar of our collective curiosity, but she will never +dodge us." + +"Cannot we all go back to our own countries and leave them alone," +suggested Frau Stern almost tearfully; "but no; we no longer haf +countries. Here we belong; elsewhere the air is too strong for our little +lungs. I pity us, and I pity more those poor young people. If only they +will but haf the sense to trample on our talk." + +"That, too, would be a sensation," Dennis added cheerfully, and we went +our ways, as usual, without having reached anything so vulgar as a +conclusion. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Emma Verplanck stood in the _loggia_ of her tiny villa and +winced in the focus of the curiosities she despised. She scanned the +white road that rimmed her valley before descending sharply to Florence +beyond the hill, and especially the crescent of dust where an approaching +figure would first appear. Now and then, as if for a rest, her eye traced +the line of flaming willows down toward the plunge of her brook into the +larger valley, or the file of spectral poplars that led into the +vineyards hanging on the declivity of Fiesole. Above all, the gaunt and +gashed bulk of Monte Ceceri glistened hotly against a pale blue sky, for +if it was a backward April, the first stirring of summer was already in +the air. She thrilled with disgust as she asked herself why she dreaded +this call. Why should she fear lest an elementary test, a very simple +explanation such as she planned for that afternoon, should compromise an +established friendship? + +Interrupting this self-examination the mighty but unwieldy form of Morton +Crocker loomed in the white dust crescent, and his premature panama +swiftly followed the curve of the low grey wall towards her gate. As his +steps were heard, her mind flew to the forbidding St. Michael on his gold +background in her den and she could fairly hear Harwood saying to all of +us, "Three to one on the Saint, who takes me?" The jangling of the bell +recalled her to Crocker, and she braced herself in the full sunlight to +receive him. For a moment, as he loomed in the archway, she indulged that +especial pride which we reserve for that which we might possess but +austerely deny ourselves. + +Her mingled moods produced an unusual softness. Crocker felt it and +wondered as she gave him her hand and had him sit for a prudent moment +outside. All the hot way up the valley he had had a sense of a crisis. It +was odd to be summoned whither he had been drifting for four years, and +now the sight of Emma disarmed, perplexed him. It seemed ominous. One +finds such transparent kindness in clever people generally at parting, +when one would be remembered for one's self and not for a phrase. Then +Crocker for an instant glimpsed the wilder hope that the softening was +for him and not for an occasion. Emma had never seemed more desirable +than to-day. A white strand or two in her yellow hair, the tiny wrinkles +at the corners of her steady grey eyes, and the untimely thinness of her +long white fingers made him eager to ward off the advancing years at her +side, to keep unchanged, as it were, these precious evidences that she +had lived. + +Some sense of his tenderness she must have had, for as she chatted +gravely about his farming, about the lateness of the almond blossoms, +about everything except people, who always tempted her sharp tongue, her +manner became almost maternally solicitous. "To-day you shall have your +first tea in my den, Crocker" (so much she presumed on her two years' +seniority), she said at last, "and you are commanded to like my things." +"What has thy servitor done to deserve this grace?" he managed to reply. +"Nothing," she said, "graces never are for deserts. Or, rather, you poor +fellow, you have been asked to tramp out here in this glare and really +deserve to sit where it is cool." As they walked through the hall and the +little drawing-room Crocker still felt uneasily that no road with Emma +Verplanck could be quite as smooth as it seemed. + +The den deserved its name, being a tiny brown room with a single arched +window that looked askance at the cypresses and bell towers of Fiesole. +Beside a couch, an Empire desk, and solid shelves of books, the den +contained only a couple of chairs and the handful of things that Emma +laughingly called her collection. As Crocker took in vaguely bits of +Hispano-Moresque and mellow ivories, a broad medal or so and a +well-poised Renaissance bronze, a Japanese painting on the lighted wall, +and one or two drawings by great contemporaries, Emma's friends, he was +amazed at the quality of everything. A sense of extreme fastidiousness +rebuked, in a way, his more indiscriminate zeal as a collector. +Uncomfortably near him on the dark wall he began to be aware of something +marvellous on old gold when tea interrupted his observations. Tea with +Emma was always engrossing. The mere practice and etiquette of it brought +the gentlewoman in her into a lovely salience. Her hands and eyes became +magical, her talk light and constant without insistency. A symbolist +might imagine eternal correspondence between the amber brew and her sunny +hair. It was easy to adore Emma at tea, and generally she did not resent +a discreetly pronounced homage. But this afternoon she grew almost +petulant with Crocker as they talked at random, and finally laughed out +impatiently: "I really can't bear your ignoring my St Michael, especially +as you have never seen him before and may never see him again. St. +Michael, Mr. Morton Crocker." + +"My respects," smiled Crocker, as he turned lazily toward the gilded +panel. There was the warrior saint, his lines stiff, expressive and +hieratic, his armour glistening in grey-blue fastened with embossed +gilded clasps; here and there gorgeous hints of a crimson doublet--the +unmistakable enamel, the grave and delicate tension of a masterpiece by +the rare Venetian, Carlo Crivelli. Crocker gasped and started from his +seat, losing at once his cup, his muffin, and his manners. "By Jove, Miss +Verplanck, Emma, it's my missing St. Michael. Where did you ever find it? +I must have it." His toasted muffin rolled unconsidered beside the spoon +at his feet. Emma retrieved the cup--one of a precious six in old +Meissen--he retained the saucer painfully gripped in both hands. + +"I was afraid it was," she answered, "but look well and be sure." + +"Of course we must be sure. You'll let me measure it, won't you? It's the +only way." Assuming his permission he climbed awkwardly upon the chair, +happily a stout Italian construction, and as she watched him with a +strange pity, he read off from a pocket rule: "One metre thirty-seven. A +shade taller than mine, but there is no frame. Thirty-one centimetres; +the same thing. Yes, it is my missing St. Michael," and as he climbed +down excitedly he hurried on: "How strange to find it here. I never +talked to you about it, did I? That's odd, too. I've been hunting for it +for years. You didn't know, I suppose. I want it awfully. What can we do +about it?" For Crocker, this fairly amounted to a speech, and before +replying Emma gave him time to sit down, and thrust another cup of tea +into his unwilling hands. Having thus occupied and calmed him, she said, +"I'm very sorry, I hoped it would turn out to be something else. I only +learned last week that you wanted it. You have seldom talked about your +collecting to me. There's nothing to do about it. I wish there were. You +want it so much. But I can't give it to you. That wouldn't do. And I +won't sell it to you. I wouldn't to anybody, and then that wouldn't do, +either. So there we are. Only think of their talk, and you'll see the +situation is impossible." + +Crocker's eyes flashed. "There's a lot we might do about it if you will, +Emma. Damn the St. Michael. If his case is so complicated, and I don't +see it, leave him out of the reckoning between us. Can't you see what I +need and want?" + +"They wouldn't see it, and I'm shamefully afraid of them," she said +simply, and then she added indignantly, "How could you dare, to-day? I +can't trust you for any perception, can I?" + +Not perceiving that her scruple was belated, Crocker blurted out +ruefully. "I'm an ass, and I'm sorry and I'm not. It's what I have wanted +to say these many days, and perhaps it might as well be so. But I've +wounded you and for that I'm more than sorry." + +"Let's not talk about it," Emma said gently. "Of course I'll forgive an +old friend for saying a little more than he should. Only you must stop +here. You'll forgive me, too, for owning your St. Michael. I'm honestly +sorry it happened so. I would dismiss him if I could, for he is likely to +cost me a good friend. But he creates a kind of impossibility between us, +doesn't he, and for a while it's best you shouldn't come, not till things +change with you. It's kindest so, isn't it, Crocker?" + +There was more debate to this effect before the impassive St. Michael, +until at last Crocker agreed impatiently, "You're right, Emma, or at +least you have me at a disadvantage, which comes to the same thing. +And yet it's all wrong. You are putting a painted saint between yourself +and a friend who wants to be more. It's logical, but it isn't human. As +for their talk, they'll talk, anyhow, and we might as well stand it +together. I'm probably off for a long time, Emma. I hope you'll find your +St. Michael companionable. When you decide to throw him out of the +window, let me know. Forgive me again. Good-by." She gave him her hand +silently and followed him out into the _loggia_. As she watched him +striding angrily down the valley and away, she had the air of a woman who +would have cried if she were not Emma Verplanck. + + * * * * * + +Crocker was right, we all did talk. And naturally, for had we not all +been eagerly awaiting the collision announced by the cessation of his +visits and the rumour that he was bound north. In council on Dennis's +terrace, however, we came to no unanimous reading of the affair. +Generally, we felt that even if Emma wanted a way out, which we guessed +to be the fact, she would never expose herself to our batteries, and with +regret we opined that there was no way, had we wished, to divest +ourselves of our collective formidableness. On all sides we divined a +deadlock, with Dennis the only dissenting voice. He insisted scornfully +that we none of us knew Emma, that we underestimated both her emotional +capacity and her resourcefulness, and, finally, in a burst of rash +clairvoyancy he declared that she would give away both the St. Michael +and herself, but in her own time and manner, and with some odd personal +reservation that would content us all. We should see. + +Given the rare mixture of the conventional and instinctive that was Emma +Verplanck, something of the sort did indeed seem probable. For ten years +she had inhabited her nook, becoming as much of a fixture among us as the +Campanile below. She came, like so many, for the cheapness and dignity of +it primarily. Here her little patrimony meant independence, safety from +perfunctory and uncongenial contacts at home, and more positively all +those purtenances of the gentlewoman that she required. But, unlike the +merely thrifty Italianates, she never became blunted by our incessant tea +giving and receiving. With familiarity, the ineffable sweetness of the +country penetrated her with ever-new impressions. She loved the +overlapping blue hills that stretched away endlessly from the rim of her +valley, and the scarred crag that closed it from behind. She loved the +climbing white roads, her chalky brook--sung as a river by the early +poets--with its bordering poplars and willows and its processional +display of violets, anemones, primroses, blueflags, and roses. She loved +even better that constant passing trickle of fine intelligences which +feeds the Arno valley as her brook refreshed its vineyard. The best of +these came gladly to her, for she was an open and a disillusioned spirit, +with something of a man's downrightness under her sensitive appreciation. +Hers was the calm of a temperament fined but not dulled by conformity and +experience. Mrs. Dennis, whose sources of information were excellent, +said it was rather an unhappy girlish affair with an unworthy cousin. +Within the limits of the possible, the Verplancks always married cousins, +and Emma, it was thought, had in her 'teens paid sentimental homage to +the family tradition. In any case she remained surprisingly youthful +under her nearly forty years. Her capacity for intellectual adventure +seemed only to increase as she passed from the first glow to proved +impressions of books, art, persons, and the all-inclusive Tuscan nature. + +Her Stuyvesant Square aunts, who were authorities on self-sacrifice, +agreed that the only sacrifice Emma had made in a thoroughly selfish life +was the purchase of the St. Michael. She had found it, on a visit in +Romagna, in the hands of a noble family who knew its value and needed to +sell it, but dreaded the vulgarity of a transaction through the +antiquaries. To Emma, accordingly, whom they assumed to be rich, they +offered it at a price staggering for her, though still cheap for it. From +the first she had adored it. There had been a swift exchange of +despatches with New York, and the St. Michael went home with her to +Florence. After that adventure the small victoria, the stocky pony, and +the solemn coachman had never reappeared. Emma walked to teas or, when +she must, suffered the promiscuity of the trams. To those of us who knew +the store she set by her equipage its exchange for the St. Michael +indicated a fairly fanatical devotion. To her aunts it meant that she had +spent her principal, which, in their eyes, was an approximation to the +mysterious "sin against the Holy Ghost." + +It was Dennis who speculated most audaciously, and perhaps truly, about +the St. Michael. When he learned that Emma secreted it in her den, where +she rarely admitted anyone, he maintained that it had become her +incorporeal spouse. The daintiness with which it fingered a golden +sword-hilt, as if fearing contamination, symbolised the aloofness of her +spirit. The solitary enjoyment of a great impression of art made her den +a sanctuary, absolving her from commoner or shared pleasures. And in a +manner the Saint was the type of the ultra-virginal quality she had +retained through much contact with books and life. For her to sell the +St. Michael, Dennis felt, would be a sort of vending of her soul, to give +it away in the present instance would imply, he insisted, an instinctive +self-surrender of which he judged her incapable. + +To Crocker's side of the affair we gave very little thought, considering +that he, after all, had created the thrilling importance of the St. +Michael. But our general attitude toward the unwonted was one of +indifference, and Crocker was too unlike us to permit his orbit to be +calculated. The element of foible in him was almost null. None of our +guesses ever stuck to him, and we had grown weary of rediscovering that +anything so simple could also be so impermeable to our ingenuity. In a +word, Crocker's case was as much plainer than Emma's as noonday is than +twilight. When one says that he was born in Boston and from birth +dedicated to the Harvard nine, eleven, or crew--as it might befall; that +he was graduated a candidate for the right clubs, that he took to stocks +so naturally that he quickly and safely increased an ample inherited +fortune, and this without neglecting horse, or rod, or gun; finally that +he carried into maturity a fine boyish ease--when this has been said all +has been told about Morton Crocker except the whimsical chance that made +him an Italianate. + +Some reminiscence of his grand tour had beguiled a tedious convalescence +and, following the gleam for want of more serious occupation, he had set +sail for Naples with a motor-car in the hold. At thirty-three he brought +the keenness of a girl to the galleries, the towns, and the ineffable +whole thing. It was Tuscany that completed his capture. He bought a villa +and, as his strength came back, began to add new vineyards and orchards +to his estate. But this was his play; his serious work became collecting +and more particularly, as has been hinted, the quest of the missing St. +Michael. When he learned, as a man of means soon must, that good pictures +may still be bought in Italy, he promptly succumbed to the covetousness +of the collector, and the motor-car became predatory. Its tonneau had +contained surreptitious Lottos and Carpaccios. Its gyrations became an +object of interest to the Ministry of Public Instruction. Once on +crossing the Alps it had been searched to the linings. While Crocker had +his ups and downs as a collector, from the first his sense of reality +stood him in stead. Being a Bostonian he naturally studied, but even +before he at all knew why, he disregarded the pastiches and forgeries, +and made unhesitatingly for the good panel in an array of rubbish. + +It was this sense for reality that impelled him to settle where the rest +of us merely perched. Fifty _contadini_ tilled his domain and actually +began to earn out the costly improvements he had introduced. His wine and +oil were sought by those who knew and were willing to pay. In the +intervals of the major passion Crocker walked up and down the grassy +roads superintending the larger operations. His muscular and hulking +blondness--he had rowed four years--towered above the dark little men who +served, feared, and worshipped him. Unlike the rest of us who preferred +to live in a delightful Cloud Cuckoo Town, which happened to be Florence +also, he had chosen to take root in Tuscany. + +First he purged his castellated villa of the international abuses it had +undergone for a century. It had hardly regained its fifteenth century +spaciousness and simplicity before it began to fill up again, but this +time with pictures and fittings of the time. In all directions he bought +with enthusiasm, but his real vocation, after the cultivation of Emma's +society, soon came to be the completion of his great and growing +altar-piece by Carlo Crivelli. What is usually a frigid exercise, a mere +ascertainment that the parts of a scattered ancona are at London, Berlin, +St. Petersburg, Boston, etc.--a patient compilation of measurements, +documents and probabilities; what is generally a mere pretext for a solid +article in a heavy journal--or at best a question of pasting photographs +together in the order the artist intended--Crocker converted into an +eager and most practical pursuit. Bit by bit he gradually reconstituted +his Crivelli in its ancient glory of enamel on gold within its ornate +mouldings. The quest prospered capitally until he stuck hopelessly at the +missing St. Michael. As it stood for a couple of years complete except +for the void where the St. Michael should be, the altar-piece represented +less Crocker's abundant resources than his tireless patience and energy. +He had picked up the first fragment, a slender St. Catherine of +Alexandria demurely leaning upon her spiked wheel, at a provincial +antiquary's in Romagna, not far from where the ancona had been impiously +dismembered. Fortunately the original Gothic frame remained to give a +clue to other panels. Next, word of a Crivelli Madonna with Donors at +Christie's took him posthaste to London. Frame, period and measurements +proved that it was the central panel, and the tiny donors, a husband and +wife with a boy and girl, indicated that the wings had contained two +female and two male saints. Between the St. Lucy (which turned up more +than a year later in an un-heard-of Swedish collection, and was had only +by a hard exchange for a rare Lorenzo Monaco and a plausible Fra +Angelico) and the sumptuous St. Augustine, which was brought to the villa +in a barrow by a little dealer, there was a longer interval. Meanwhile +the frame had been reconstructed, and a niche for the missing saint rose +in melancholy emptiness. A little before the sensational _rencontre_ in +Emma's den, the chance of finding a rude pilgrim woodcut on the Quai +Voltaire revealed the saint's identity. This ugly print informed the +faithful that the "prodigious image" of Our Lady existed in the Church of +the Carmelites at Borgo San Liberale. One might distinguish at the +extreme right of the five compartments a willowy St. Michael in armour, +like Chaucer's Squire in a black-letter folio, or if the identification +had been doubtful, there was the name below in all letters. + +When the print was shown to the scheming Harwood over the afternoon +vermouth, he suspended a long discourse on the contemptible fate of being +born an Anglo-Saxon, and it came over him with a blessed shock that Emma +had the missing St. Michael. Penetrated by the joy of the situation, he +hesitated for a moment whether to give the initiative to the man or the +woman. A glance at Crocker's uncompromising sturdiness convinced him that +on that side the situation might be quickly exhausted. Emma he could +trust to do it full justice. Excusing himself abruptly, he made for Frau +Stern's lodgings, and with the taste of Crocker's vermouth still in his +faithless mouth, told her that Emma's Crivelli was no other than the +missing St. Michael. To make matters sure he solemnly bound Frau Stern to +secrecy. That accomplished, he strode whistling down through the purple +twilight to his well-earned _fritto_ at Paoli's. The next day began our +wondering what Emma would do. She did, as is known, a thing that her +simple Knickerbocker ancestresses would have approved--presented Crocker +to the St. Michael and left the decision modestly to the men. Behind the +frankness of her procedure lay, perhaps, a curiosity to see how Crocker +would bear himself in a delicate emergency. It was to be in some fashion +his ordeal. Thus she might at least shake the appalling equanimity with +which he had passed from the stage of comrade to that of suppliant. Not +that she doubted him; nobody did that, but she resented a little in +retrospect his silence on the subject of the great quest. Was it possible +that for these five years he had chatted only about his college pranks, +his fishing trips, his orchards and vineyards, and the views? As she +reviewed their countless walks and teas, it really seemed as if he had +never paid her the compliment of being impersonal. Well, that was ended +now at any rate. A little misgiving filled her that she had never +revealed the presence of the St. Michael to so good a play-fellow. A +delicacy, knowing his incorrigible zeal as a collector, had restrained +her, and then, as Dennis had guessed, her den was her sanctuary, +admission to which implied an intimacy difficult to concede. Whatever the +merits of the case, the rupture had produced in a milieu consumed by the +desire to guess what Emma would do, at least one person who was solely +interested in what Crocker's next move might be. For the first time in a +singularly calculable life he had become an object of genuine curiosity. + +He acted with his usual simplicity. To Emma he wrote a brief note +upbraiding her for fearing the voices of the valley, professing his +eagerness to return when the St. Michael had been put out of the +reckoning, and declaring that if it were not soon, he would willy-nilly +come back and see how things were between them. It was a letter that +wounded Emma, yet somehow warmed her, too, and from its reception we +found her in an unwonted attitude of nonconformity to the verdicts of the +valley. She began to speak up in behalf of this or that human specimen +under our diminishing lenses with the unsubtle and disconcerting +bluntness of Morton Crocker himself. The phenomenon kept alive our waning +interest during nearly a year of waiting. As for Crocker he gave it out +ostentatiously that he was bound for a wonderful Cima in Northumbria and +afterward was to try dry-fly fishing on the Itchen. Beyond that he had no +plans. All this was characteristically the truth; he bought the Cima, +wrote of his baskets to Harwood, but stayed away past his melons, his +grapes and his olives. By early winter we heard of him shooting the moose +in New Brunswick, and later planning a system of art education in the +Massachusetts schools, and it was not till the brisk days of March that +we learned the west wind was bringing him our way again. + +Meanwhile Emma had acquired a few more grey hairs and had resolutely +declined to dispossess herself of the St. Michael. A couple of months +after Crocker's leave-taking, a note had come to her from Crespi, the +unfrocked priest and consummate antiquarian, who, to the point of +improvising a _chef d'oeuvre_, will furnish anything that this gilded +age demands. Crespi most respectfully begged to represent an urgent +client, a Russian prince, who desired a fine Crivelli. Would the most +gentle Miss Verplanck haply part with hers? The price should be what she +chose to name. It was no question of money, but of obliging a client +whom Crespi could ill afford to disappoint. Emma curtly declined the +offer. The St. Michael was valued for personal reasons and was not for +sale. Six weeks later came a more insidious suggestion. The Director of +the Uffizi, learning that she possessed a masterpiece of a school +sparsely represented in the first Italian gallery, pleading that such an +object should not pass from Italy, and representing a number of generous +art-lovers who desired to add it to the collections under his care, made +the following offer, trusting, however, not to any pecuniary inducement +but to her loyalty as an honorary citizen of Florence. The price named +was something less than the London value, but its acceptance would have +perpetually endowed the victoria, and perhaps--. If the malicious +Harwood had not passed the word that the offer was a ruse of the wily +Crocker, we all believed that she would have accepted. Indeed, we +regretted her obduracy. It would have been such a capital way out, with +no sacrifice of her scruples nor waiver of our collective +impressiveness. So Harwood came in for mild reprehension, the Sage +Dennis remarking with some asperity that when the gods have provided us +with farces, comedies, and tragedies in from one to five acts it is +unseemly to string them out to six or seven. + +Early March, then, saw the deadlock unbroken. The St. Michael had not +been dislodged. Emma still was unwavering so far as we knew. We were +unable, had we willed, to divest ourselves of our deterrent attributes. +But the situation had changed to this extent that Crocker was said to be +on his way down to oversee a new system of spring tillage in person. + +Emma took his approach with something between terror and an unwonted +resignation. From the day when he had planted himself firmly beside her +fireplace with a boyish wonder at finding himself so much at home, he had +represented the incalculable in her carefully planned life. Declining to +accept the attitude of other people toward her, he had almost upset her +attitude toward herself. He was the first man since the scapegrace cousin +who had neither feared nor yet provoked her sharp tongue. While he +relished her wit, it had always been with an unspoken deprecation of its +cutting edge. He gave her a queer feeling of having allowances made for +her--a condescension that in anybody but this big, likable boy she would +have requited with sarcasm. But against him the _cheveux de frise_ she +successfully presented to the world seemed of no avail. He knew it was +not timber but twigs, and that at worst one was scratched and not +impaled. Day by day she watched the cropping of the long line of flaming +willow plumes that escorted her brook toward the level. The line dwindled +as the shorn pollards gave up their withes to bind the vines to the dwarf +maples. She felt the miles between herself and Crocker lessening, and (at +rare moments) her scruples ready to be garnered for some sweet and +ill-defined but surely serviceable use. But she would not have been Emma +Verplanck if the manner of her not impossible surrender had not troubled +her more than the act itself. Any lack of tact on the part of the +husbandman might still spoil things. She had a whimsical sense that any +one of the flaming willows might refuse its contribution to the vineyard +should the pruner approach with anything short of a persuasive "_con +permesso_." + +Crocker's "by your leave" was so far from persuasive that it left her +with a panicky desire to run away--again a new sensation. He wrote: + +"DEAR EMMA-- + +"We have had an endless year to think it over, and the only change on my +side is that I need you more than ever. I will go away for real reasons, +for your reasons, but for no others. If it is only their talk that +separates us, their talk has had twelve good months and shall have no +more. I must see you. May I come tomorrow at the old hour? + +"As always yours, + +"MORTON CROCKER." + +Something between wrath and dismay was the result of this challenge. She +sat down to answer him according to his impudence, and the words would +not come. The greatness of the required sacrifice came over her and +therewith the desire to temporise. The voice of many Knickerbocker +ancestresses spoke in her, and between herself and a real emergency she +interposed the impenetrable buckler of a conventionality. She wrote: + +"PENSIOIN SCHALCK, Bad Weisstein, Austrian Tyrol. + +"MY DEAR CROCKER-- + +"It would be pleasant to see you and talk over your trip, but you see by +this address it is for the present impossible. As always, + +"Cordially yours, + +"EMMA VERPLANCK." + +When Crocker found Emma's valley as effectually barred as if a battery +guarded the approaches, he gave way to a deep resentment. Instinctively +hating anything like a trick, to be tricked by Emma at this point was +intolerable. His gloom was such that he confided to the malicious Harwood +a profound disgust with the irreality of the life Italianate. The +_podere_ should be sold as soon as it could be put in order. Such +pictures as the Italian Government coveted, it should keep, the rest +should go to the Museum at Boston. He himself would grow orange trees in +North Cuba where there were things to shoot and, thank heaven, no +civilisation. Harwood came breathlessly to Dennis's with the tale, +gloating openly that there was to be a seventh act if not an eighth. + +A long hard day with his bailiff and the peasants restored Crocker's +poise. He looked for the hundredth time over into Emma's valley and +divined her attitude. Dreading an interview, she had left the way open to +parley. She virtually pleaded for a delay. It was a new and, in a way, +delightful sensation to be feared. For the first time in any human +relation he exploited a personal advantage and wrote, addressing Bad +Weisstein: + +"DEAREST EMMA-- + +"You have wanted a delay. Well, you have it--probably a week already. +Make the most of it, for two weeks from this date--I give you time to +recover from your journey--I am coming for tea in the old way. Meanwhile +you can hardly imagine the impatience of + +"Yours more than ever, + +"MORTON CROCKER." + +Whether Crocker or Emma was more miserable during the fortnight even +Dennis could not have told. But there was in his woe something of the +sublime stolidity of the man who is going to stand up to be shot or +reprieved, whereas she suffered the uncertainty of the soldier who has +been drawn to make up the "firing party" for a comrade. She feared that +she would not have courage enough to despatch him, and then she feared +she would. Meantime the days passed, and she woke up one morning with an +odd little shiver reminding her that it was no longer possible to get a +note to him by way of Bad Weisstein. Nor had she the heart to move to a +nearer coign of constructive absence. Of half measures she was, after +all, a foe. Her determination to send Crocker away daily increased, and +the implacable St. Michael seemed to command that course. "You are not +for him. You represent a whole artificial world in which he cannot +breathe. I, the finest incarnation of the most exquisite mannerism of a +bygone time, am your spiritual spouse, and you may not lightly renounce +me. You have devoted yourself to graceful irrealities and must now abide +by your choice." Thus the St. Michael had spoken in a dream in the +troubled hours before daybreak, and when Emma went to her den late the +next morning she confronted him and admitted, "You are right, St. +Michael. It's all true." That afternoon Crocker was coming for tea, and +if her New York aunts could have known, even they would have granted +that, for the second time in a thoroughly selfish life, Emma was +displaying capacities for self-sacrifice. + +As Emma and Crocker shook hands that afternoon, one might see that both +had aged a little, but he most. Something of the appealing boyishness +had gone out of his eyes. He had become her contemporary. A certain +moral advantage, too, had passed to his side and she, whose prerogative +it had been to take the leading part, now waited for him to begin. As +if on honour to do nothing abruptly, he sketched his year for her--his +sports and committees, his kinsfolk and hers; their fresh, +invigorating, half-made land. She listened almost in silence until he +turned to her and said: + +"With me, Emma, it is and always will be the same. You know that. Has +anything changed with you?" + +"I don't think so, Crocker. How can I tell? I'm glad you're here, in +spite of the shabby trick I've played you. Let me say just that I'm +heartily glad to see an old friend." + +"No, I must have more than that or less. I want much more than that." + +"You want too much. You want more than I can give to anybody. O! Why +can't you see it all? You are alive, even here in Florence but, I, I am +no longer a real person that can love or be loved. Can't you see that I +am only a sensibility that absorbs the sweetness of this valley, a mere +bundle of scruples and fears, a weather-cock veering with the talk of +the rest of them? Think of that and take back what you have thought +about me." + +"Emma, you admit a need, and that is very sweet to me. You want some one +to strengthen you against all this that you call the valley. Mightn't +that helper be I?" + +"You shan't be committed to anything so hopeless." + +"It isn't as hopeless as it seems. The strength of the valley is only in +its weakness, and we shall be strong together." + +"I have forgotten how to be strong, for years I have only been clever." + +"You'd be dull enough with me as you well know. I can do that for +both. But don't talk as if there were some fate between us. There can +be none except your indifference, and I believe you do care a little +and will more." + +"Of course, I care, Crocker, but not as you wish. You have refreshed me +in this opiate air. You have represented the real country I have +exchanged for this illusion, the real life I might have lived had I been +braver or more fortunate. But you can have no part in what I have come to +be. Go, for both our sakes." + +"Not for any such reason. I can't surrender my happiness for a phrase; I +can't leave you to these delusions about yourself." + +"It is no delusion; I wish it were. It's in my blood and breeding. For +generations my people have lived the unreal life. I am the fine flower of +my race, and in coming to this valley of dreams and this no-life I am +merely fulfilling a destiny--a fate, as you say--and coming to my own." + +"But Emma, the worthy Verplancks?" + +"No, listen to me. For generations the Verplancks have been what people +expected them to be, incarnate formulas of etiquette and timid living. +They took their colour from the gossiping society in which they seemed to +live. They prudently married other Verplancks, cousins or cousins' +cousins. They hoarded their little fortunes without increasing them, and +if what they called the rabble had not peopled New York and raised the +price of land, which my people were merely too stolid to sell, we should +long ago have gone under in penury. We have led nobody and made nothing, +but have been maintained by stronger forces and persons, toward whom we +have always taken the air of doing a favour. That mistake at least I +shall not make with you, Crocker. I want you to feel the full nullity of +me. As I see you now I have a twinge because my great grandfather, who +was a small banker, would have called yours, who was a farmer--you see I +have looked you up--not 'Mister' but 'My Good Man.'" + +For a moment she paused, and Crocker groped for a reply. "All this may be +true, Emma," he said at last, "and yet mean very little to you and me. +Besides, I'm quite willing you should call me your Good Man. In fact, I'd +rather like it." + +"You must take me seriously--you shall. I cannot marry. I'm married +already. Dennis says I am. Come and see my bridegroom." And she fairly +dragged the bewildered Crocker into her den and set him once more before +the missing St. Michael. + +"There he is, an incarnated weakness and fastidiousness. His hand is too +delicate to draw his own sword. If he really cast out Satan, it must have +been by merely staring him down. His helmet rests with no weight upon his +curled and perfumed locks--his buckles are soft gold where iron should +be. He represents the dull, collective, aristocratic intolerance of +Heaven for the only individualist it ever managed to produce. He pretends +to be a warrior and is as feminine as your St. Catherine. He is the +imperturbable champion of celestial good form, and Dennis, who sees +through things, says he is my spiritual husband. He is the weakest of the +weak and is too strong for you, Crocker." + +For a space that seemed minutes they faced each other, Emma excited, with +a diffused indignation that defied impartially the missing St. Michael +and the puzzled man before her; Crocker with a perplexity that renewed +the old boyish expression in his eyes. He seemed to be thinking, and, as +he thought, the tension of Emma's attitude relaxed, she forgot to look at +the St. Michael and wondered at the even, steady patience of the big +likable boy she was dismissing. She pitied him in advance for the futile +argument he must be revolving. She had despatched him as in duty bound +and was both sorry and glad. + +But his counterplea when it came was of a disconcerting briefness and +potency. He said very slowly, "Yes, I see it all. There is your spiritual +husband; there are they" (indicating the valley with a sweep of a big +hand), "and there are you, Emma, caught in a web of baffling and false +ideas; and here am I, a real man who loves you, fearing neither the St. +Michael nor them" (another gesture) "nor your doubts. I set myself, +Morton Crocker, your lover, against them all and take my own so." + +There was a frightened second in which his sturdy arms closed about her. +There was a little shudder, as the same big hand that had defied the +valley sought her head and pressed it to his shoulder. When Emma at last +looked up the mockery she always carried in her eyes had given place to a +new serenity, and her hand reached up timidly for his. + +Crocker and Emma--we now instinctively gave him the precedence--were +inconsiderate enough to remove themselves without making clear the fate +of the no longer missing St. Michael. We still speculated indolently as +to the nature of the afterpiece in which we assumed this ex-hero of our +comedy might yet appear. Then we learned that Emma was to be married +without delay from the stone manor house under the Taconics where her +people had dwelt since patroon days. Only a handful of friends with +Crocker's nearest kin and her inevitable New York aunts were to be +present. These venerable ladies had admitted that in marrying, even +opulently, out of the family, Emma had once more shown velleities of +self-sacrifice. Then we heard of Crocker and Emma on his boat along the +coast "Down East." Later we were shocked by rumours of a canoe trip +through Canadian waterways. Hereupon the usually benevolent Dennis +protested as he glanced approvingly at the well-kept Tuscan landscape. +"Crocker needn't rub it in," he opined. "Why, it's the same scrubby +spruce tree from the Plains of Abraham to James's Bay-and Emma, who hated +being bored! Why, it's marriage by capture; it's barbaric." "It's worse; +it's rheumatic," shuddered Harwood as he declined Marsala and took +whisky. "But he'll have to bring her back to civilisation some time, if +only to hospital. We shall have her again." "He will bring her back, but +we shall never have her again," said Dennis solemnly. "She has renounced +us and all our works." "Renouncing our works isn't so difficult," smiled +Mrs. Dennis, and then the talk drifted elsewhere, to new Emmas who were +just beginning to eat the Tuscan lotus. + +Before the year had turned to June again we had nearly forgotten our +runaways, when a quite unusual activity about her villa and Crocker's +warned us that they were coming back. Harwood had seen in transit a box +which he thought corresponded to the St. Michael's stature, but was not +sure. In a few days came a circular note from Crocker through Dennis +saying that they were fairly settled and he glad to see any or all of +us. She, however, was still fatigued by the journey and must for a time +keep her room. + +Harwood straightway volunteered to undertake the preliminary +reconnaissance, while Frau Stern engaged to penetrate to Emma herself. + +On a beatific afternoon we sat in council on Dennis's terrace awaiting +the envoys. Below, the misty plain rose on and on till it gathered into +an amber surge in Monte Morello and rippled away again through the +Fiesolan hills. Nearer, torrid bell-towers pierced the shimmering reek, +like stakes in a sweltering lagoon. In the centre of all, the great dome +swam lightly, a gigantic celestial buoy in a vaporous sea. The spell that +bound us all was doubly potent that day. The sense of a continuous life +that had made the dome and the belfries an inevitable emanation from the +clean crumbling earth, lulled us all, and we hardly stirred when Harwood +bustled in, saying, "Cheer up. I have seen Crocker, and it isn't there." +"You mean," said the cautious Dennis, "that Crocker still possesses only +the hole, aperture, frame, or niche that the missing St. Michael may yet +adorn." "I only know that it isn't there now," growled Harwood. "I deal +merely in facts, but you may get theories, if you must have them, from +Frau Stern, who heroically forced her way to Emma over Crocker's +prostrate form." + +As he spoke we heard Frau Stern's timid, well-meaning ring, and in a +moment her smile filled the archway. + +"We don't need to ask if you have news," cried Mrs. Dennis from afar. + +"If I haf news. Guess what it is. It is too lovely. You cannot think? +Well, there will be a baby next autumn, what you call it?" "Michaelmas, I +suppose," grunted Harwood through his pipe-smoke and subsided into +indifference. + +"All this is most charming and interesting, Frau Stern," expostulated +Dennis, "but, as our enthusiastic friend Harwood delicately hints, +what we really let you go for was to locate the Missing St. Michael." +"I haf almost forgot that," she apologised as she nibbled her +_brioche_, "Emma was so happy. But for the bothersome St. Michael +there is no change. I saw it in what she calls her new den. She +laughed to me and said, 'I cannot let him have it, you see, you would +all say he married me for it.'" + +"Bravo!" shouted Dennis and Harwood in unison, and the Sage added with +unction, "So she has not been able to renounce us utterly." + +"It is not now for long," rejoined Frau Stern, "it is only to the time we +haf said." "Michaelmas," repeated Harwood disgustedly. + +"Yes, that is it," she pursued tranquilly, "Emma told me in confidence, +'To Crocker I cannot give it because of you all, but to our child I may, +and it shall do with it what it will.' Now do you prevail, Misters Dennis +and Harwood?" + +"We are a bit downcast but not discomfited," acknowledged Dennis, +while Harwood remained glumly within his smoke. "Emma has escaped us, +but she still pays us the tribute of a subterfuge. It is enough, we +will forgive her, even if her way lies from us dozers here. For to-day +the same sunshine drenches her and us. It is a bond. Let us enjoy it +while we may." + + + + +THE LUSTRED POTS + + +"Haul away, Sam. This is the real thing" came from the depths of the +well. Sam Cleghorn stumbled in the gloom towards the windlass, avoiding +on the way a rude handpump and two heaps of dirt and broken pottery that +sloped threateningly upon the low curb, where balanced a perforated disc +of marble, the great bottom-stone of the well. All these properties +caught a little light from a beam that came through a slit in the wall, +casting most of its uncertain bloom up into a low groined vault, the +heavy round arches of which were separated from squat piers by clumsy +brackets. Outside at the level of the reticulated stone floor one could +hear the rushing of a river. As Cleghorn leaned over the well-mouth +before seizing the crank, a glimmer of yellow light flooded his face and +again came up the hollow impatient cry, "Haul away, Sam. This lot's a +good one, and it's mine." Replying "All right, Dick," Cleghorn bent to +the crank. With much creaking the coils crept along the spindle and the +light burden began to rise jerkily. + + * * * * * + +Although neither the well nor the vaulted cellar chamber belonged to Sam +Cleghorn or to Dick Webb, their presence and actions there were not +surreptitious. Stanton Mayhew, who ignorantly owned the well, had given +them plenary permission to pump and dig, mildly pitying their apparent +lunacy. The palace above was his in virtue of his sensible preference for +living twice as well on the Arno for half the cost on the Hudson. This +rule of two, like so many foreign residents of Florence, he +unquestioningly obeyed, and it constituted practically the whole of his +philosophy and maxims. Hence he was not the man to prize a Tuscan well +dug in the fourteenth century, cleaned perhaps never, and gradually +filled to the brim with what the forwardlooking past benightedly took for +rubbish. So when Cleghorn and Webb made him an overture for the right to +clean the well, he had genially replied, "Why, go ahead, boys, and enjoy +yourselves. It's you who ought to be paid, but for your healths' sake you +really ought to wait till I've punched some decent windows through that +damp cellar wall and let the air in." + +If neither Sam nor Dick waited even a day, it was because each was a bit +afraid that the other would begin alone. College mates, collectors both, +they were fast friends in a way and rivals beyond dispute. Their common +taste for antiquity and adequacy of means had made their graduate course +chiefly one of travel. And when travel wore out its novelty they +naturally settled in the easiest, as the least exacting, European city, +occupying two halves of one floor in the same palace. Their apartments +started full, and quickly overflowed with objects of curiosity and +art--all old, for their knowledge was considerable; some fine, for +neither was without taste. But taste neither had in any austere sense, +for they collected art much as a dredge collects marine specimens. +Nothing came amiss to them. Wood, ivory, silver, bronze, marble, +plaster--they repudiated no material or period. Stuffs, glass, pictures, +porcelains, potteries--it was all one to them so the object were old and +rare. Inevitably, then, they had come to primitive pots, and +simultaneously, for they not only watched each other closely, but almost +read each other's minds. And when they came to primitive pots it was +certain that they would beg, borrow, or steal a well, since in old wells, +and cisterns, besides less mentionable places, primitive pots abide. Many +pots were there, as we shall see, from the first, and the maids and +children of the centuries, by way of concealing breakages, have usually +made notable secondary contributions. So when amiable Stanton Mayhew +freely conceded a most ancient well to Cleghorn and Webb, it was like +receiving Pandora's box, with the difference that the well might safely +be opened. + +Here had ensued a most delicate negotiation concerning the division of +the spoil. A mathematical partition of the fragmentary material that an +old Italian well contains is extremely difficult if at all possible. +After much debate it was agreed that after they struck pay dirt, each +should dig in turn, each to have the bucketful that came under his trowel +or fingers. Scattered fragments of the same pot and other complications +were to be adjudicated by Mayhew, whose ignorance and disinterestedness +were safe to assume. But the well gave up quantities of noncontentious +matter before Mayhew's services were required. The first five feet had +revealed nothing but fragments of kitchen pottery of our time and a +fairly perfect hoopskirt of Garibaldian date. A little lower had emerged +the skeleton of a cat. Similar tragedies were in evidence, on an average, +at every quarter century of depth. Between the second and third cat, lay +Ginori imitations of Sevres and Wedgewood, scraps too of gilded +glass--the earnest of better things below. Five cats down, some +eighteenth-century apothecary pots, damaged but amenable to repair, had +inaugurated the alternation of buckets under the agreement. It were +tedious to follow the ascending scale of excellence as the digging went +deeper. Enough to say that below the mixed ingredients and the nethermost +cat they found a homogeneous layer of beautiful fourteenth-century +shards, affording many buckets full, and promising delicate adjudication +to the referee. + +Before the lustred pots themselves shed a baleful gleam over this +narrative, something should obviously be said about Italian wells and why +they contain pots. Beyond those casually acquired from careless or +secretive servants, there is, if the well be old and of good make, a +certain number of intact pieces put in to serve as a filter. Often a +group of pitchers or similar crocks is imprisoned between the two +bottom-stones. Sometimes there are two such layers. After this filter had +been made there was frequently scattered a bushel or more of small shards +above. From these by careful sorting complete or nearly complete pieces +may be recovered. Through all this mass of whole or broken pottery the +water had to find its way up, for the cement sides of an Italian well are +watertight. Thus, barring the indiscretions of housemaids and cats, the +early Italians drank pure water. + +Naturally Cleghorn and Webb were conversant with these refinements of +mediaeval hydraulics. In fact when Webb, the sturdier of the two, hauled +up the bottom-stone all dripping, Cleghorn promptly declared that in the +sense of the contract it was a bucketful; hence his first go at the now +uncovered pots. So heated grew the debate, that finally the grimy +excavators climbed to the upper air and appealed to Mayhew, who promptly +denied the quibble, deciding that stones and pots were not +interchangeable. The diversion drew attention from the great perforated +disc itself, and as the sullen Cleghorn let the exultant Webb down upon +the ancient pots, it lay badly bestowed near the curb on the crumbling +slope of a rubbish heap. And now Cleghorn with bitterness of heart was +reeling up Webb's find. As the coils broadened on the windlass a small +iron bucket rose above the parapet, brimming with something that glinted +metallically under the dirt. Beside the bucket flapped the rude swing in +which the entrances and exits of the partners were made. As Cleghorn +grasped the bail and swung the precious cargo clear of the well, came up +once more the voice of Webb: "Hustle, Old Man, I'm keen to see them, they +feel good." + +Good they were indeed. Cleghorn, who for fifteen years had haunted shops +and museums had never seen the like in equal compass. As he took them +cautiously one by one and held them high in the uncertain light, each +revealed a desirable point. Here was a coat of arms, a date, the initial +of an owner. There were grotesque birds and beasts. Differing in form and +colour, the entire lot agreed in possessing that dull early Italian +lustre, which perhaps accidental and less distinguished than that of +Spain, is even dearer in a collector's eyes. They hinted of all enamelled +things that come out of the East--of the peacock reflections of the tiles +of Damascus and Cordova, of the franker polychromy of Rhodian kilns, of +the subtler bloom of the dishes of Moorish Spain, of the brassier glazes +of Minorca and Sicily--all these things lay enticingly in epitome in +these lustred Italian pots, as they glimmered with a furtive splendour. +Yes, they were a good lot, thought Cleghorn as he placed them reverently +on the flagging. It was the find of a lifetime. A man with nothing else +in his cupboard must be mentioned respectfully among collectors from Dan +to Beersheba. + +Again the impatient voice of Webb below: "Hurry up, I say. It's getting +cold: the water is gaining." + +"All right," called Cleghorn, giving a few strokes of the pump, but never +taking his eyes from the lustred pots. Then as if by a sudden inspiration +he asked, "Any more in that lot, Dick?" + +"Not a one," cried Webb jubilantly, "there was just a bucketful and a +squeeze at that. But there may be others beneath. There's another +bottom-stone, and it's your next turn. But why don't you hurry up?" + +A scowl passed over Cleghorn's thin face set unswervingly towards the +pots. They glimmered in the shadow with an unholy phosphorescence--green, +blue, carmine, strange purplish browns. So the glittering coils of the +serpent may have bewildered our first Mother. There were other pots +below, reflected Cleghorn, yes, but there never could be again such a +batch as these. And then his dazed eye for a second left the fascinating +pots, and mechanically searched the vaulted chamber. To his excited gaze +the rubbish heaps centring about the curb seemed already in movement. The +massive bottom-stone overhung the parapet, resting only on loose dirt and +shards. With horror he noted that a breath might send it down. If it +slipped, whose were the lustred pots? Against his will the phrase said +itself over and over again throbbingly behind his eyes, and again he +forgot everything in the vision of the lustred pots. + +"Damn it, hurry up," came thunderously from below. Cleghorn stumbled with +a curious hesitation between the crank and the poised bottom-stone. The +clumsy movement loosened a handful of shards which went clattering down; +the great stone slid, caught on the parapet, and hung once more in +uncertain oscillation. Profanity unrestrained transpired from the mouth +of the well. + +It was a tremulous Cleghorn that sent down the bucket and reeled up an +irate and vociferous Webb. Words abounded without explanations, and blows +seemed possible, when Cleghorn, as it were apologetically raised a +pitcher and a bowl into the shaft of light that came through the +oubliette. "They're all like that, Dick," he protested. "It's your lucky +day. I congratulate you." It was a silenced and mollified Webb that +clutched at the pots, and noted wisely that every one had been brushed by +the peacock's tail. With a kind of pity at last he turned to the +deprecating Cleghorn and said, "That was an awkward business of yours +about the shards, and the bottom-stone there is a pretty sight for a man +who left it so and went down to work under it, but one couldn't wait for +such pots as these. On my soul, Old Man, if you had dumped it all down on +me I could hardly have blamed you." + +Welcomed with a loud laugh by its maker, the joke jarred on Cleghorn, who +merely answered, "It's very good of you, Dick, to say so." + +"But there may be quite as good ones below," pursued Webb genially. +"We'll rest up a bit and then you have your go and finish the job." + +"If you don't mind, Dick, I'd rather not," was the embarrassed answer. +"The fact is I'm too nervous and absentminded for this work." He looked +down into the blackness with a shudder and said. "No, I don't want to go +down there again. One can't tell what might happen there." + +"Then you've dropped your nerve. Sorry for it," came from a baffled and +disgusted partner, but as he spoke a smile drew across the broad, amiable +face, and he added insinuatingly, "Then the rest are mine, Old Man?" + +"Yes they're yours fast enough." + +"It's mighty good of you, Sam. I won't forget it. I'll share sometime on +a good thing like this. I'm all ready to go down again when you've had a +smoke. Only we'll set that stone right and you'll be more careful about +the shards." + +"If you'll excuse me, Dick, I'd rather not." Cleghorn looked at his +watch. "You see I ought to be out of these duds already. I have a very +particular tea outside. Didn't I tell you about it? I'll send Mayhew +down to help." + +"All right, just as you please," was the indifferent reply. But as +Cleghorn turned up the narrow steps, Webb muttered perplexedly, "To funk +at this point and for a tea! The man is touched or in love." + + * * * * * + +Webb with Mayhew's dispassionate aid made a considerable haul below the +second stone, though in truth there was nothing there to compare with the +first lot. The batch of lustred pots is the pride of his eye, and when it +is suggested that he values them highly he answers, "Well rather, they're +pretty good, you know, and then they nearly cost me a broken head. I was +so keen for them that I set a big stone where it might easily have +tumbled on me." Then the rest of the anecdote, which Cleghorn, in whose +presence it frequently is told, never hears with complete equanimity. The +causes of his uneasiness I do not engage to analyse, for, unlike Webb, +Cleghorn is imaginative and difficult. + + + + +THE BALAKLAVA CORONAL + + +As the dinner wore on endlessly, I consoled myself by the thought of the +Balaklava Coronal. There in the toastmaster's seat was Morrison who had +bought it, at my right loomed Vogelstein who had sold it, far across, +towards the foot of the board, sat the critic Brush in whose presence I +understood the infamous sale had been made. I missed only Sarafoff, the +marvellous peasant-silversmith, who wrought the coronal in his prison +workshop in the Viennese ghetto. Now there was nothing strange about +Vogelstein's selling it, nor yet about Morrison's buying it; only the +making of it by the illiterate Sarafoff and the silence of Brush when it +was sold required explanation. Vogelstein, who breathed heavily beside +me, undoubtedly held the secret. I felt so hopeful that time and the +champagne which we were drinking for the sake of art would give him to me +that I took no pains meanwhile to disturb his elaborate indifference to +my presence. + +Between him and me little love was lost. As the editor of a moneylosing +art magazine in the interior, it was my duty occasionally to visit his +galleries. After such visits the remnant of my New England conscience +usually forced me to diminish or actually to spoil many a sale of the +dubious or merely fashionable antiquities in which he dealt. But in the +main my power to harm him was slight. He held in a knowing grip the +strings of his patrons' vanity and taste. So he regarded me with +something between scorn and uneasiness--as a pachyderm might take a +predatory bee. For the sake of my steady production of the honey of free +advertising he forgave a sting from which he was after all immune. At the +beginning of the dinner he had greeted me with what was meant for a +civility and then had relapsed into silence. To escape the loquacity of +my other neighbour I gave myself to parallel observation of Vogelstein +and Morrison--the great dealer and his greater customer. + +Both plainly belonged to the same species and it pleased my whim to +symbolise them as a mastodon and a rogue elephant. Morrison, the dreaded +agent and operator, was unquestionably the finer creature. He moved more +precisely and with a sense of wieldy power. His phrases cut where +Vogelstein's merely smote. His bigness had something genial about it. He +looked the amateur, and indeed does not the rogue elephant trample down +villages chiefly for the joy of the affray? One felt that something more +than Morrison's preposterous winnings had been involved in the clashes of +railroads and cataclysms on the exchange which had for years past been +his major recreation. Vogelstein, though evidently of coarser fibre, +belonged to the same formidable breed. The mastodon, we must suppose, +lacked much of the finesse of the rogue elephant of later evolution. And +Vogelstein's Semitism was of the archaic, potent, monumental type. His +abundant fat looked hard. For all the sagging double chin, his jaw +retained the character of a clamp. Among the strong race of art dealers +he was feared. Whole collections not single objects were his quarry. He +paid lavishly, foolishly, counting as confidently on the ignorance and +vanity of his clients, as ever Morrison upon the brute expansion of the +national wealth. But Vogelstein looked and was as completely the +professional as Morrison the amateur. There remained this essential +difference that if nothing could be too big to stagger Vogelstein, +nothing likewise could be too small to deter him. I knew his shop, or +rather his palace, and had observed the relish with which he could shame +a timorous art student into giving three prices for a print. It afforded +him no more pleasure, one could surmise, to impose a false Rembrandt at +six figures upon a wavering iron-master, or, indeed to unload an historic +but rather worthless collection upon Morrison himself. For Vogelstein was +after all of primitive stamp, to wit the militant publican. So he took +toll and plenty, it mattered little where or whence. + +To Morrison and Vogelstein no better foil could be imagined than Brush. +If they recalled the tusked monsters that charged in the van of Asiatic +armies, his analogue was the desert horse. Small, spare, sensitive, shy, +his every posture suggested race, training, spirit, and docility. His +_flair_ for classical art had become proverbial. By mere touch he +detected those remarkable counterfeits of Syracusan coins. It was he who +segregated the Renaissance intaglios at Bloomsbury only the winter before +he exposed the composite figurines at Berlin. To him the Balaklava +Coronal must have proclaimed its nullity as far as its red gold could be +seen. For that matter the coronal was a bye-word, and why not? The same +dealers who had landed the more famous Tiara in the Louvre had the +selling of it. The greater museums in Europe and America had refused it +at a bargain. On Fifth Avenue and the Rue Lafitte all the dealers were +joking about the Balaklava Coronal. The name of Sarafoff, its maker, had +even become accepted slang. For a season we "Sarafoffed" our intimates +instead of hoaxing them. And in the face of all this Vogelstein had sold +the Coronal to Morrison under Brush's very nose. It seemed so wholly +incredible that I began counting Vogelstein's heavy respirations, to make +sure I was really awake. + +Then the pale, tense mask of Brush--so isolated in the apoplectic row +across the table--calmed me. That he was Vogelstein's or anyone's tool +was unthinkable. Mercenary suspicions, to be sure, had been put about, +but those who knew him merely laughed at such a notion. Vogelstein also +laughed, shaking volcanically within, whenever the Coronal, the +genuineness of which he still maintained, was mentioned. And he always +treated Brush with a curious and almost tender condescension, much in +fact as the mastodon might have regarded that fragile ancestor of the +horse, the five-toed protohippos. + +I have neglected to explain that the occasion which brought me at one +table with such major celebrities as Morrison, Vogelstein, and Brush was +a public dinner in behalf of civic art. For just as we find the celestial +compromised by the naughty Aphrodite, so we distinguish two antithetical +sorts of art. There is a bad private art which is produced for dealers +and millionaires and takes care of itself, and there is a virtuous public +art which we hope to have some day and meanwhile has to be taken care of +by special societies. It was one of these that was now dining for the +good of the cause. Under the benevolent eye of Morrison, our acting +president, we had put pompano upon a soup underlaid with oysters, and +then a larded fillet upon some casual tidbit of terrapins. Whereupon a +frozen punch. Thus courage was gained, the consecrated sequence of +sherry, hock, claret and champagne being absolved, for the proper +discussion of woodcock in the red with a famous old burgundy--Morrison's +personal compliment to the apostolate of civic art. + +At the dessert, Morrison himself spoke a few words. The little speech +came brusquely from him, and no one who knew his rapacity for the +beautiful could doubt his faith in the universal superlatives he now +advocated. Our art, he held, must weigh with our mills and railroads, +else our life is out of balance. We never grudged millions to burrow +beneath New York for light, or for drink or speed, why then should we +grudge them for the beautiful inutilities that might make the surface of +the city splendid. A craving for fine objects was his own dearest +emotion, he wanted to see cities, states, and the nation ready to spend +with equal fervour. It all came apparently to a matter of spending. +Morrison entertained no doubt that an imperious demand would create an +abundant supply of what he called the best art. Whether we were to +transport bodily the great monuments of Europe to America, or merely were +to supply beauty off our indigenous bat, was not clear from Morrison's +address, and possibly was not wholly so in his own mind. But the talk was +solid and forceful, and I could hear Vogelstein grunt with inward joy +when he contemplated the city, the state, and the nation in their +predicted role as customers. I too felt that a real if an incoherent +voice had spoken, and that if civic art were indeed to come, it would be +through such neo-Roman visionaries as Morrison. + +Then the mood changed and a willowy, hirsute, and earnest reviver of +tapestry weaving rose and pleaded for the "City Beautiful," castigating +the Philistine the while, and looking forward to a time when "the pomp, +and chronicle of our time should be splendidly committed to illumined +window and pictured wall," with some slight allusion to "those ancient +webs through which the Middle Ages still speak glowingly to us." + +About midway in the speech Morrison, who had another public dinner down +the avenue slipped away. As he nodded "See you later perhaps" I marked +the adoring eye and smile of Vogelstein, and then the great folds settled +back into their places about his mouth and my neighbour once more gave an +uneasy attention to the weaver of beautiful phrases, meanwhile drinking +repeated glasses of burgundy. Soon his huge form heaved with an +inarticulate discontent, and as the speaker sat down amid perfunctory +applause Vogelstein snorted twice into the air. + +"It is rather absurd, as you say," I ventured. + +"It's sickening," wheezed Vogelstein. "Why can't he sell his tapestries +without all that talk?" + +"Oh, he enjoys the talk and probably believes it, and you and I do better +after all to hear his talk than to see his tapestries." A mastodonic +chuckle welcomed this mild sally. The burgundy was taking effect. + +As the diners rose stiffly or alertly, according to their several grades +of repletion, Vogelstein attached himself to me almost affectionately. +"Do stop in the cafe and talk to me," he urged. "It's queer, here are a +lot of my customers, some of my artists, besides you literary chaps, and +except Morrison, nobody wants to talk to me. Morrison and I, we +understand each other. It's early yet. Come along with me and talk. I've +wanted to talk to you for a long time, but always was too busy in my +place. You see you writers don't buy, in fact those that know almost +never do. It's really queer." + +Knowing the might of burgundy when a due foundation of champagne has been +laid, I hardly took this effusion as personal to myself, but I also saw +no reason, too, why I should not profit by the occasion. "I'll gladly +chat with you, Mr. Vogelstein," I answered, "but you must let me choose +the subject. We will talk about the Balaklava Coronal." + +As he led me into the elevator by the arm he whispered "All right, Old +Man, but why? You know just as much as I about it." + +There was no chance to reply until he had selected his table and ordered +two Scotches and soda. "Yes, I know something about it," I said at last; +"everyone does apparently except Morrison. I know that Sarafoff made the +Coronal, but I don't know who taught him how to make it, nor yet how +Morrison was idiot enough to buy it, when anybody could have told him +what it was, nor yet how Brush came to let it be sold. These are the +interesting parts of the story, and I'll drink no drink of yours unless +you tell." + +At the mention of idiocy in connection with Morrison Vogelstein shuddered +and raised a massive deprecating hand. The gesture was arrested by the +entrance of Brush, who with a slight nod to us passed to a distant +corner. Suddenly Vogelstein's expression had become one beaming, +condescending paternalism. "Good man but impracticable," he muttered. +"Thinks knowing it is everything. Knowing it is something, but selling it +is the real thing. Now I hardly know at all, not a tenth as much as +Brush, not a half as much as you even, but so long as I can sell, I don't +really care to know. What's the use?" + +"But you did know about the Balaklava Coronal and you sold it too," I +interrupted. "How did you dare?" + +"That's my secret--but here are our drinks. A bargain's a bargain. How +funny it is to be talking truth. Why, much of it would make even your job +difficult." + +"And yours impossible, but we're not getting to the Coronal," I insisted. + +"As for that," responded Vogelstein obligingly, "the first thing was of +course the making. You know all about Sarafoff yourself. Well, he only +did the work. It was Schoenfeld who put in the brains. You don't know him? +Few do. Great man though. University professor of archaeology, trouble +with a woman, next trouble with money, now one of us. Yes Schoenfeld +thought it out and saw it through." + +"And certainly made a good job of it," I admitted. + +"As you see, we wanted something unique--something that could not be +compared with anything in the museums." + +"Precisely," I interposed, "Product of the local, semi-barbaric school of +the Crimea." + +"You've hit it," grinned Vogelstein. "Scythian influence, to take the +professors. Schoenfeld said we must have that. And that's why it had to be +found at Balaklava." + +"But it had to look Scythian too. How did you manage that?" + +"Oh, that was Sarafoff's business. He had been a servant and then a +novice at one of the monasteries of Mount Athos. Could make beautiful +tenth-century Byzantine madonnas. I've sold some. Then he carved ikons +in wood, ivory, silver, or what came. His things really looked Scythian +enough to those who didn't know their modern Greece and Russia. So we +set him to work in a back alley of Vienna at three kroners a day--double +pay for him--and Schoenfeld ran down from Petersburg now and then to +coach him." + +"You could trust him?" I inquired, recalling how Sarafoff had +subsequently won fame by confessing to his most famous forgery. + +"As much as one can anybody. You see he doesn't speak any civilised +language, and at that time we couldn't tell that the Tiara would spoil +him as it did the entire deal." + +"But Schoenfeld's coaching?" I suggested. Vogelstein here winked solemnly +and drank deeply from his tall glass. "First I want to tell you all about +Sarafoff," he persisted, "of course we had him watched all the same, and +whenever he got an evening off, which was seldom, we had him filled up +with schnapps. He was a quiet drunk which is an excellent thing, Sir." As +I nodded assent to this great truth, he continued: "Yes Schoenfeld, as I +was saying, managed everything. Wonderful scholar. You would respect him +I'm sure. Why, every bit of the pattern of the Coronal was taken from +some real antique, every word of the inscription too." "Wasn't that a bit +dangerous?" "With Schoenfeld in charge, not so very. Everything was taken +from little Russian museums that even you critics don't visit. Almost no +published thing was used, you see." + +"Then there was Sarafoff"-- + +"To give it all that quaint Scythian look," Vogelstein added joyously. +"Yes, we had just the best brains and the best hands for the job, and it +was beautiful." "Better than the Tiara?" + +"Yes, far better. The Tiara was all a mistake, as I told Schoenfeld; it +was too big and too good to be true. Except for Steinbach, who fell in +love with its queerness and chipped in some money, we never could have +sold it to a museum. And it was a bad thing to have it there, it aroused +opposition, it was bound to be exposed. I was always against it, and sure +enough it spoiled the game for us. But the Balaklava Coronal that was +just right. It had a sort of well-bred modest beauty. We should have +begun instead of ending with it. Yes, Sir, there never was a more +beautiful thing, a more plausible thing, a finer object to sell than the +Balaklava Coronal." + +As he bellowed the word and beat the table in confirmation, Brush looked +over from his corner apprehensively. "Quietly, Mr. Vogelstein," I hinted, +"this is between ourselves, and we might be overheard." + +"That's right," he admitted, and moodily lit another cigar. "Where were +we?" he asked uneasily. "Oh yes, we were at the Tiara. Now the Coronal +and what we could have sold on the strength of it was worth ten of the +Tiara, and if it hadn't been for the cursed thing, we could have landed +the Coronal as a starter in any one of half a dozen museums." + +"As a matter of fact they were all shy of it." + +"Of course. Once the Tiara was being looked into, the museum game was up, +and there was only Morrison left." Vogelstein lurched around nervously. +"He may drop in soon," he explained. "I'd like to make you acquainted." + +Ignoring the offer, I persisted, "You've got to the interesting point +at last. Tell me why there was only Morrison left. To begin with +Morrison knows something about such matters, and next he can have the +best advice for the asking. And yet you tell me that Morrison was the +only great collector in the world to whom that notoriously false bauble +could be sold." + +Vogelstein swayed uncomfortably in his chair, puffed, swallowed, cleared +his throat, and said, "There are some things one can't say right out; you +know that as well as I, but I can say this: there are many great and +enterprising collectors in America, and Morrison is the only one who +never doubts anything he has once bought." + +"An ideal client then." + +"Quite so. You see the others get worried by the critics. That means +exchanging, refunding--all sorts of trouble." + +"But Morrison never?" + +"Never; he's a true sport. He never squeals." + +"Doesn't have to because he doesn't know he's hurt." + +"That's right," concluded Vogelstein, his face corrugating into one +ample, contented smile. + +"Then the big game reduces itself into selling to Morrison." + +"That's more or less it, Sir. For a critic you have a business head." + +"You will excuse a rather personal question, but how do you feel about +selling your best customer at enormous prices objects which you know to +be false?" + +"It's a fair question since we are talking between ourselves, and you +shall have a straight answer. First my business isn't just a nice one. In +the nature of the case it wouldn't do for sensitive people. I suppose you +and Brush, for instance, couldn't and wouldn't make much out of it. Then +as regards Morrison, I'm not so sure he could complain if he knew. I give +him the things he likes and the treatment he likes at the prices he +likes. What more can any merchant do?" + +I saw the subject rapidly exhausting itself and tried one more tack. +"Yes, it's simpler than I supposed," I admitted, "but it doesn't seem +quite an every-day thing to sell the Balaklava Coronal to anybody under +Brush's nose." + +"It's easier than you think," echoed Vogelstein. "You don't know +Morrison. Hope he'll look in to-night. You ought to meet him." + +My last bolt was shot. It was my turn to sit silent and drink. What could +be this strange infatuation of the hardheaded Morrison, this avowedly +simple magic of the grossly cunning Vogelstein? As I pondered the case I +noticed Brush give a startled glance towards the entrance, heard heavy +steps behind us, and then a deep voice saying, "Hallo again, Vogelstein, +I'm lucky not to be too late to catch you." + +Vogelstein lumbered to his feet and muttered an introduction. We all took +our seats, as the headwaiter bustled obsequiously up to take Morrison's +order of champagne. As if also obeying Morrison's nod, but reluctantly, +Brush crawled over from his corner, a scarcely deferential attendant +transporting his lemonade. + +While casual greetings and some random talk went on I tried to picture +the scene we must present. Neither Brush nor myself is contemptible +physically or in other ways, yet we both seemed curiously the inferiors +of these troglodytic giants. Our scruples, the voluntary complication of +our lives, seemed to constitute at least a disadvantage when measured +against the primitiveness, perhaps the rather brutal simplicity, of our +companions. + +It was Morrison who cut these reflections short. "You will excuse me, +gentlemen," he said, "for introducing a matter of business here, but the +case is pressing and it may even interest you as critics of art." We +nodded permission and he continued, "It's about the Bleichrode Raphael, +as of course you know, Vogelstein. I like it, I want it, but I hear all +sorts of things about it, and frankly it strikes me as dear at the price. +How do you feel about it?" + +At the mention of the Bleichrode Raphael, Brush and I started. The +forgery was more than notorious. The Bleichrode panel had begun life +poorly but honestly as a Franciabigio--a portrait of an unknown +Florentine lad with a beretta, the type of which Raphael's portrait of +himself is the most famous example. The picture hung long in a private +gallery at Rome and was duly listed in the handbooks. One day it +disappeared and when it once more came to light it had become the +Bleichrode Raphael. Its Raphaelisation had been effected, as many of us +knew, by the consummate restorer Vilgard of Ghent, and for him the task +had been an easy one. It had needed only slight eliminations and discreet +additions to produce a portrait of Raphael by himself far more obviously +captivating than any of the genuine series. Soon the picture vanished +from Schloss Bleichrode, and it became anybody's guess what amateur had +been elected to become its possessor. The museums naturally were +forewarned. + +While this came into Brush's memory and mine, Vogelstein's +countenance had become severe, almost sinister, and he was answering +Morrison as follows: + +"Mr. Morrison, I have offered you the Bleichrode Raphael for half a +million dollars. You will hear all sorts of gossip about it. Doubtless +these gentlemen (indicating us) believe it is false and will tell you +so (we nodded feebly). But I offer it not to their judgment but to +yours. You and I know it is a beautiful thing and worth the money. I +make no claims, offer no guarantee for the picture. You have seen it, +and that's enough. If you don't want it, it makes no difference to me, +I can sell it to Theiss (the great Parisian amateur, Morrison's only +real rival), or I will gladly keep it myself, for I shall never have +anything as fine again." + +Morrison sat impassively while Vogelstein watched him narrowly. Brush and +I felt for something that ought to be said yet would not come. At the end +of his speech, or challenge, Vogelstein's expression had softened into +one of the most courtly ingenuousness, now it hardened again into a +strange arrogance. His eyes snapped as he continued with affected +indifference, "Since you have raised the question, Mr. Morrison, the +Bleichrode Raphael is yours to take or leave--to-night." + +There was a pause as the two giants faced each other. Then Morrison +smiled beamingly, as one who loved a good fighter, and said, "Send it +round tomorrow, of course I want it. Well, that's settled, and if these +gentlemen will spare you, I'll give you a lift down town." + +Vogelstein's arrogance melted once more into fulsomeness as he said, +almost forgetting his Goodnight to us, "I'm sure it's very good of you, +Mr. Morrison." + +The forms of Morrison and Vogelstein almost blocked the generous +intercolumnar space as shoulder to shoulder they moved away between the +yellow marble pillars and under the green and gold ceiling. The brown +leather doors swung silently behind them, and we were left together with +our amazement. + +"Never mind, Old Fellow," said Brush at last. "It's the first time for +you. You'll get used to it. It's my second time; I happened to be there, +you know, when the Balaklava Coronal was sold." + + + + +SOME REFLECTIONS ON ART COLLECTING + + +Morally considered, the art collector is tainted with the fourth deadly +sin; pathologically, he is often afflicted by a degree of mania. His +distinguished kinsman, the connoisseur, scorns him as a kind of +mercenary, or at least a manner of renegade. I shall never forget the +expression with which a great connoisseur--who possesses one of the +finest private collections in the Val d'Arno--in speaking of a famous +colleague, declared, "Oh, X----! Why, X---- is merely a collector." The +implication is, of course, that the one who loves art truly and knows it +thoroughly will find full satisfaction in an enjoyment devoid alike of +envy or the desire of possession He is to adore all beautiful objects +with a Platonic fervour to which the idea of acquisition and +domestication is repugnant. Before going into this lofty argument, I +should perhaps explain the collection of my scornful friend. He would +have said: "I see that as I put X---- in his proper place, you look at my +pictures and smile. You have rightly divined that they are of some +rarity, of a sort, in fact, for which X---- and his kind would sell their +immortal souls. But I beg you to note that these pictures and bits of +sculpture have been bought not at all for their rarity, nor even for +their beauty as such, but simply because of their appropriateness as +decorations for this particular villa. They represent not my energy as a +collector, nor even my zeal as a connoisseur, but simply my normal +activity as a man of taste. In this villa it happens that Italian old +masters seem the proper material for decoration. In another house or in +another land you might find me employing, again solely for decorative +purposes, the prints of Japan, the landscapes of the modern +impressionists, the rugs of the East, or the blankets of the Arizona +desert. Free me, then, from the reproach implied in that covert leer at +my Early Sienese." Yes, we must, I think, exclude from the ranks of the +true zealots all who in any plausible fashion utilise the objects of art +they buy. Excess, the craving to possess what he apparently does not +need, is the mark of your true collector. Now these visionaries--at least +the true ones--honour each other according to the degree of "eye" that +each possesses. By "eye" the collector means a faculty of discerning a +fine object quickly and instinctively. And, in fact, the trained eye +becomes a magically fine instrument. It detects the fractions of a +millimetre by which a copy belies its original. In colours it +distinguishes nuances that a moderately trained vision will declare +non-existent. Nor is the trained collector bound by the evidence of the +eye alone. Of certain things he knows the taste or adhesiveness. His ear +grasps the true ring of certain potteries, porcelains, or qualities of +beaten metal. I know an expert on Japanese pottery who, when a sixth +sense tells him that two pots apparently identical come really from +different kilns, puts them behind his back and refers the matter from his +retina to his finger-tips. Thus alternately challenged and trusted, the +eye should become extraordinarily expert. A Florentine collector once saw +in a junk-shop a marble head of beautiful workmanship. Ninety-nine +amateurs out of a hundred would have said. "What a beautiful copy!" for +the same head is exhibited in a famous museum and is reproduced in +pasteboard, clay, metal, and stone _ad nauseam_. But this collector gave +the apparent copy a second look and a third. He reflected that the +example in the museum was itself no original, but a school-piece, and as +he gazed the conviction grew that here was the original. Since it was +closing time, and the marble heavy, a bargain was struck for the morrow. +After an anxious night, this fortunate amateur returned in a cab to bring +home what criticism now admits is a superb Desiderio da Settignano. The +incident illustrates capitally the combination of keenness and patience +that goes to make the collector's eye. + +We may divide collectors into those who play the game and those who do +not. The wealthy gentleman who gives _carte blanche_ to his dealers and +agents is merely a spoilsport. He makes what should be a matter of +adroitness simply an issue of brute force. He robs of all delicacy what +from the first glow of discovery to actual possession should be a fine +transaction. Not only does he lose the real pleasures of the chase, but +he raises up a special clan of sycophants to part him and his money. A +mere handful of such--amassers, let us say--have demoralised the art +market. According to the length of their purses, collectors may also be +divided into those who seek and those who are sought. Wisdom lies in +making the most of either condition. The seekers unquestionably get more +pleasure; the sought achieve the more imposing results. The seekers +depend chiefly on their own judgment, buying preferably of those who know +less than themselves; the sought depend upon the judgment of those who +know more than themselves, and, naturally, must pay for such vicarious +expertise. And, rightly, they pay dear. Let no one who buys of a great +dealer imagine that he pays simply the cost of an object plus a generous +percentage of profit. No, much-sought amateur, you pay the rent of that +palace in Bond Street or Fifth Avenue; you pay the salary of the +gentlemanly assistant or partner whose time is at your disposal during +your too rare visits; you pay the commissions of an army of agents +throughout the world; you pay, alas! too often the cost of securing false +"sale records" in classic auction rooms; and, finally, it is only too +probable that you pay also a heavy secret commission to the disinterested +friend who happened to remark there was an uncommonly fine object in +Y----'s gallery. By a cheerful acquiescence in the suggestions that are +daily made to you, you may accumulate old masters as impersonally, as +genteelly, let me say, as you do railway bonds. But, of course, under +these circumstances you must not expect bargains. + +Now, in objects that are out of the fashion--a category including always +many of the best things--and if approached in slack times, the great +dealers will occasionally afford bargains, but in general the +economically minded collector, who is not necessarily the poor one, must +intercept his prey before it reaches the capitals. That it makes all the +difference from whom and where you buy, let a recent example attest. A +few years ago a fine Giorgionesque portrait was offered to an American +amateur by a famous London dealer. At $60,000 the refusal was granted for +a few days only, subject to cable response. The photograph was tempting, +but the besought amateur, knowing that the authenticity of the average +Giorgione is somewhat less certain than, say, the period of the Book of +Job, let the opportunity pass. A few months after learning of this +incident, I had the pleasure of meeting in Florence an English amateur +who expatiated upon the beauty of a Giorgione that he had just acquired +at the very reasonable price of $15,000. For particulars he referred me +to one of the great dealers of Florence. The portrait, as I already +suspected, was the one I had heard of in America. Forty-five thousand +dollars represented the difference between buying it of a Florentine +rather than a London dealer. Of course, the picture itself had never left +Florence at all, the limited refusal and the rest were merely part of the +usual comedy played between the great dealer and his client. On the other +hand, if the lucky English collector had had the additional good fortune +to make his find in an Italian auction room or at a small dealer's, he +would probably have paid little more than $5,000, while the same purchase +made of a wholly ignorant dealer or direct from the reduced family who +sold this ancestor might have been made for a few hundred francs. With +the seekers obviously lie all the mystery and romance of the pursuit. The +rest surely need not be envied to the sought. One thinks of Consul J.J. +Jarves gradually getting together that little collection of Italian +primitives, at New Haven, which, scorned in his lifetime and actually +foreclosed for a trifling debt, is now an object of pilgrimage for +European amateurs and experts. One recalls the mouse-like activities of +the Brothers Dutuit, unearthing here a gorgeous enamel, retrieving there +a Rembrandt drawing, fetching out a Gothic ivory from a junk-shop. One +sighs for those days, and declares that they are forever past. Does not +the sage M. Eudel warn us that there are no more finds--_"Surtout ne +comptez plus sur les trouvailles."_ Yet not so long ago I mildly chid a +seeker, him of the Desiderio, for not having one of his rare pictures +photographed for the use of students. He smiled and admitted that I was +perfectly right, but added pleadingly, "You know a negative costs about +twenty francs, and for that one may often get an original." Why, even I +who write--but I have promised that this essay shall not exceed +reasonable bounds. + +For the poor collector, however, the money consideration remains a source +of manifold embarrassment, morally and otherwise. How many an enthusiast +has justified an extravagant purchase by a flattering prevision of +profits accruing to his widow and orphans? Let the recording angel reply. +And such hopes are at times justified. There have been instances of men +refused by the life insurance companies who have deliberately adopted the +alternative of collecting for investment, and have done so successfully. +Obviously, such persons fall into the class which the French call +charitably the _marchand-amateur_. Note, however, that the merchant comes +first. Now, to be a poor yet reasonably successful collector without +becoming a _marchand-amateur_ requires moral tact and resolution. The +seeker of the short purse naturally becomes a sort of expert in prices. +As he prowls he sees many fine things which he neither covets nor could +afford to keep, but which are offered at prices temptingly below their +value in the great shops. The temptation is strong to buy and resell. +Naturally, one profitable transaction of this sort leads to another, and +soon the amateur is in the attitude of "making the collection pay for +itself." The inducement is so insidious that I presume there are rather +few persistent collectors not wealthy who are not in a measure dealers. +Now, to deal or not to deal might seem purely a matter of social and +business expediency. But the issue really lies deeper. The difficulty is +that of not letting your left hand know what your right hand does. A +morally ambidextrous person may do what he pleases. He keeps the dealer +and collector apart, and subject to his will one or the other emerges. +The feat is too difficult for average humanity. In nearly every case a +prolonged struggle will end in favour of the commercial self. I have +followed the course of many collector-dealers, and I know very few +instances in which the collection has not averaged down to the level of a +shop--a fine shop, perhaps, but still a shop. I blame no man for +following the wide road, but I feel more kinship with him who walks +scrupulously in the narrow path of strict amateurism. Let me hasten to +add that there are times when everybody must sell. Collections must +periodically be weeded out; one may be hard up and sell his pictures as +another in similar case his horses; artists will naturally draw into +their studios beautiful objects which, occasion offering, they properly +sell. With these obvious exceptions the line is absolutely sharp. Did you +buy a thing to keep? Then you are an amateur, though later your +convenience or necessity dictates a sale. Did you buy it to sell? Then +you are a dealer. + +The safety of the little collector lies in specialisation, and there, +too, lies his surest satisfaction. To have a well-defined specialty +immediately simplifies the quest. There are many places where one need +never go. Moreover, where nature has provided fair intelligence, one must +die very young in order not to die an expert. As I write I think of +D----, one of the last surviving philosophers. Born with the instincts of +a man of letters, he declined to give himself to the gentler pursuit +until he had made a little competence at the law. As he followed his +disinterested course of writing and travel, his enthusiasm centred upon +the antiquities of Greece and Rome. In the engraved gems of that time he +found a beautiful epitome of his favourite studies. For ten years study +and collecting have gone patiently hand in hand. He possesses some fifty +classical gems, many of the best Greek period, all rare and interesting +from material, subject, or workmanship, and he may have spent as many +dollars in the process, but I rather doubt it. He knows his subject as +well as he loves it. Naturally he is writing a book on intaglios, and it +will be a good one. Meanwhile, if the fancy takes him to visit the site +of the Bactrian Empire, he has only to put his collection in his pocket +and enjoy it _en route_. I cannot too highly commend his example, and yet +his course is too austere for many of us. Has untrammelled curiosity no +charms? Would I, for example, forego my casual kakemonos, my ignorantly +acquired majolica, some trifling accumulation of Greek coins, that +handful of Eastern rugs? Could I prune away certain excrescent minor +Whistlers? those bits of ivory cutting from old Italy and Japan? those +tarnished Tuscan panels?--in truth, I could and would not. Yet had I +stuck to my first love, prints, I should by this time be mentioned +respectfully among the initiated, my name would be found in the +card-catalogues of the great dealers, my decease would be looked forward +to with resignation by my junior colleagues. As it is, after twenty years +of collecting, and an expenditure shameful in one of my fiscal estate, I +have nothing that even courtesy itself could call a collection. In +apology, I may plead only the sting of unchartered curiosity, the +adventurous thrill of buying on half or no knowledge, the joy of an +instinctive sympathy that, irrespective of boundaries, knows its own when +it sees it. And you austerely single-minded amateurs, you experts that +surely shall be, I revere if I may not follow you. + +We have left dangling from the first paragraph the morally important +question, Is collecting merely an habitual contravention of the tenth +commandment? Now, I am far from denying that collecting has its +pathology, even its criminology, if you will. The mere lust of +acquisition may take the ugly form of coveting what one neither loves nor +understands. This pit is digged for the rich collector. Poor collectors, +on the other hand, have at times forgotten where enterprise ends and +kleptomania begins. But these excesses are, after all, rare, and for that +matter they are merely those that attach to all exaggerations of +legitimate passion. As for the notion that one should love beautiful +things without desiring them, it seems to me to lie perilously near a +sort of pseudo-Platonism, which, wherever it recurs, is the enemy of life +itself. As I write, my eye falls upon a Japanese sword-guard. I have seen +it a thousand times, but I never fail to feel the same thrill. Out of the +disc of blued steel the artisan has worked the soaring form of a bird +with upraised wings. It is indicated in skeleton fashion by bars +extraordinarily energetic, yet suavely modulated. There must have been +feeling and intelligence in every touch of the chisel and file that +wrought it. Could that same object seen occasionally in a museum showcase +afford me any comparable pleasure? Is not the education of the eye, like +the education of the sentiments, dependent upon stable associations that +can be many times repeated? Shall I seem merely covetous because I crave +besides the casual and adventurous contact with beauty in the world, a +gratification which is sure and ever waiting for me? But let me cite +rather a certain collector and man of great affairs, who perforce spends +his days in adjusting business interests that extend from the arctic +snows to the tropics. His evenings belong generally to his friends, for +he possesses in a rare degree the art of companionship. The small hours +are his own, and frequently he spends them in painting beautiful copies +of his Japanese potteries. It is his homage to the artisans who contrived +those strange forms and imagined those gorgeous glazes. In the end he +will have a catalogue illustrated from his own designs. Meanwhile, he +knows his potteries as the shepherd knows his flock. What casuist will +find the heart to deny him so innocent a pleasure? And he merely +represents in a very high degree the sort of priestliness that the true +collector feels towards his temporary possessions. + +And this sense of the high, nay, supreme value of beautiful things, has +its evident uses. That the beauty of art has not largely perished from +the earth is due chiefly to the collector. He interposes his +sensitiveness between the insensibility of the average man and the always +exiled thing of beauty. If we have in a fractional measure the art +treasures of the past, it has been because the collector has given them +asylum. Museums, all manner of overt public activities, derive ultimately +from his initiative. It is he who asserts the continuity of art and +illustrates its dignity. The stewardship of art is manifold, but no one +has a clearer right to that honourable title. "Private vices, public +virtues," I hear a cynical reader murmur. So be it. I am ready to stand +with the latitudinarian Mandeville. The view makes for charity. I only +plead that he who covets his neighbour's tea-jar--I assume a desirable +one, say, in old brown Kioto--shall be judged less harshly than he who +covets his neighbour's ox. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COLLECTORS*** + + +******* This file should be named 13114.txt or 13114.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/1/1/13114 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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