Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1893-12-06
CHAPTER VII

Delatule's apartments We're in the Uni
vereitv building. He loved the weather
stained pile because it was old-so little
was old in New York. He loved the
gloomy halls and the high. dusty win
dowS. His rooms We're a medley where
discord in the extreme blended into a
startling harmony. Curiosity shops had
been rausacked for treasures. and he had
even paid flying visits to ship chambers
shops upon the wharves i'll the desire to
collect autagonistic bits. Fish nets that
had the salt of the sea woven into their
tihcrS took the place of more cunven-
tiunal hangings. Mugs of every size and
the most fanciful shapes, some of them
very old, hung III II line around the man.
tel. each Il mirror for the cracking fire
below. Divans swathed in Turkish stuffs
jDttcd from shadowy angles and held
palritatinG CLEANS from hanging lamps
i'll their oriental, beSpanGled folds. His
bed had curtains of pale tapestry fra
grant rs spice and Topped up by spears.
1t was screened by a leathery Indian mat
resembling the back of huge turtle and
suspended Ivy hooks from tine ceiling.
Dclatole had many sides TO his charac-
ter. He was Il rake, parasite, but he
WAS also a genuine artist and loved his
work, He loved the somber dreams
which stole i'll upon his solitude in this
old house. in this old street. They tipped
his pen with cabalistic power. When
the wind howled and the snow fell, the
drafty passages seemed trodden by
ghostly feet, and fancy often crossed his
threshold. CARRIED in some futtering rag
of the dead years. Sometimes he had
but to half shut his eyes, and looking
across his untidy desk to the limits of
the spacious square beyond see the roof
tops stretch away into 4 sun kissed des-
ert. and the hanging smoke become the
white tents of Il waiting army
YES, he loved the place, but it must
go and his life there be remembered as
a dream. On this November afternoon
while he waited for Tom he held in his
hand. which was trembling with rage, a
notice to leave these self same apart
ments or pay very large sum in Il very
short time. Curious that II man should
prefer as Il tenant some commonplace
fellow with money instead of n brilliant
critic who made cigarette lighters of
his dunning letters. \ few oaths that
reduced creation 10 chaos. aud a few
pufTs of 4 cigarette cleared his brain. He
sat back to think.
So much money had gone at the gam.
bling table; so mach on the races; so
much i'll speculation. And the result:
Enormous bills flowing in from every
quarter, chief among them an appallinn
array of figures for moro than years
rent.
There's not = hole or corner where /
can borrow 4 third of it." he exclaimed
impatiently, and tightening the girdle Of
the eastern robe Unfolding his slight figure
he strolled 10 the window. and through
the tangle of bare branches looked across
nj the snowy grass plots of Washington
square.
He scarcely moved for many minutes
Was there nothing he could do? Nothing?
One plan after another was dismissed as
impracticable until his eyes fell upon
Tom coming across the park, the orange
light streaming from the west behind
him, making moving silhouette of his
vigorous figure.
Delatole's eyes became inscrutable, the
smoke wreaths curled furiously around
his head, and he caressed his lip with the
tasted palatable thought.
You fool. Why didn't You think of
him before" he said alcud and burst out
laughing.
When the sedate English valet, who
had almost forgotten the look of Ameri-
can money. opened the door for Tom,
his host stroiled from the window With
hands outstretcheii.
only half an hour latel" he said air
lily in his drawing voice. Not bad for
anew celebrity. Did YOU see The Chal.
lenge this morning: Good-wasn't It'll
Here, read this"
He picked up some loosely scattered
pages covered with his delicate, cramped
writing and pushed them into Toms
hands.
This will be in on Thursday mo, u
ing. You see, it's a minute review OF
the play. You certainly can't complain.
Tom carried them to the window and
turned one rusthng page after another
Glorious words We're these-magnetic
intense. And how true!-how marvel
ously true! His own intimate struggles
in writing the play had been OWNED by
the keen critical understanding of the
writer. The lines flowed delicately, sub
tly, and Were sweet as incense. They
throbbed in his brain; his eyes liGhtened
81 had not hoped for this" ne saIu
with grateful glance as he came bach
TO the table while slowly drawing off hi:
gloves. How awfully kind of you!. Ny
conviction that you mean it all is far
dearer than that New York will read
these Words
Eyes, / mean it all"
Delatole handed him cigarette, CAV,
an abrupt glance at his harassed, weary
face, and said musingly-
You don't look like yourself today