The Meeker herald., 1896-12-26

In spite OF all his success and his
fame. the first hard years Of struggle
had left their traces on him. There
was always a touch of melancholy
which he had never quite succeeded IN
throwing off. He had seen the comedy
Of human life too near. and 1t is. alas!
no comedy for those who are behind the
scenes.
On this bright, May day. however.
Hector was quite gay as he entered
Ledoyen's restaurant 1t was the open
| ing day Of the salon, and there was an
animated discussion going on among .
group of artists. sculptors and Journal
lists as to the respective merits OF the
works exhibited this year.
Hector's arrival made a sensation.
and many hands were held out towards
him. Somewhat absently, and yet with
the easy cordiality of a man accus-
toned to society. he answered the va
rious greetings and then took his Gus
tomary place at a small table where
Paul Nielssery, the young landscape
painter. and Charles Zirtius. the aqua
rellist. were awaiting for him.
With these two friends Hector could
always enjoy himself; he knew and
sympathized with them thoroughly In
their love or art and in their utter con-
tempt for all that was mean or mer-
cenary.
why, Hector" exclaimed Paul, you
look positively radiant this morning.
What has happened, and what have Jou
been doing?"
L tho
one else. have been looking at pic
lures and sculpture, but l discovered
one piece which has done me good fsr
the whole day. A perfect masterpiece.
an inspirationr'
Hector's friends listened eagerly, and
at the neighboring tables tie conversa-
tion ceased, for it was worth while
hearing what the great art critic had
to say, and hearing it from his own
lips before the papers got 1t next day.
There are certainly some fine things
this year in the Salon, but in my opin-
ion there is one that surpasses all, one
such as we only get once in about ten
years Il mean Jean MeunieFs
Wreck"
murmur of approval was heard
from the other tables as Hector pro-
nounced the young sculptor's name.
Very soon the buzz of conversation
was again heard. and Hector and his
friends continued their repast, all
three of them in the best of humors
with themselves and with all the rest
Of the world.
During dessert Charles Zirtius got up
| from the table and went across to the
| other end of the restaurant. He soon
| returned, accompanied by a tall, hand
| some man about thirty: well dressed,
and bearing the unmistakable stamp Of
gentleman. His dark, deep-set, brown
eyes were full of restless energy, but
there was an expression Of earnestness
in them which almost amounted to
sadness. This morning, however, his
| delicate, oval face was lighted up with
Glory had touched him with her wings
Hector" said Charles. II want to
Introduce my friend to you. Jean
Meunier.''
The journalist rose quickly and
shook hands warmly with the young
sculptor.
81 must thank you." he said, "for the
enjoyment l have had this morning.
Your Wreck is marvellous work OF
art, and l certainly think have never
felt so much pleasure in seeing a piece
OF sculpture as in that
The artist drank in these words from
the critic with delight. and, on Her-
tors invitation, he took seat at the
little table where the coffee was giving
out it's inviting aroma.
During the conversation Hector look
ed hard at Jean, trying hard to recall
where and when he had seen that re-
fined face with the intense expression
in its dark eyes.
He thought Of various acquaintance
he had made at clubs. artists studios,
cafes; but. no, he could not recall hav
ing met this man before, and still the
look in those eyes haunted him.
Finally he decided that 1t must be
resemblance that he saw to someone
else, and he got SO interested in the
conversation of the three artists that
he forgot it at last, and ceased to ran
sack his memory. Gradually the ta-
bles around were deserted, and Hector
called the waiter and paid the bill. He
left some change on the table for the
walters pourboire, and seeing that he
had not picked up silver coin half
hidden by a plate. he called him back
saying, Take this. too"
Suddenly Jean Mennier looked At It
and then at Hector. His pale face be-
came still paler, the expression in his
ewes still more intense, shudder ran
through him and at the same time the
memory of an utterly wretched face
seen on a November evening by the
light Of a street lamp. ten years ago
flashed across Hector. They were all
getting up from the table; he smiled
sympathetically at the young sculp-
tor and held out his hand. which the
latter grasped and wrung silently, but