Evening star., 1896-03-07
THE LOST CRAVAT.
A Romantic Adventure of n Young
Artist In the Louvre.


A Romantic Adventure of n Young
Artist In the Louvre.
From the Argoaaut
When 1 arrived al Paris I was poor-very
poor. Like SO many others, 1 hoped to find
there both fortune and glory. hoped to
become Il great painter, and l was only
twenty years Old. While 1 was waiting for
fame AID fortune. both of which. am glad
to say. came at last, / breakfaSted and
diEed very lightly. Sometimes / did not
breakfast at all, and often, as our English
friends say. dred with Duke Humphrey
How in the world / ever succeeded in liv-
ing L cannot explain. All, youth, youth, all
powerful talisman that you are! 1 had
youth Now that l have won fortune, moth
ing has ever rendered me so happy as in
those days when, although poor. felt life
bounding within me 1 lived then. 1 was
poor as job. yet richer than Crcesus
worthy shopkeeper in the country town
from which came wrote to me. out of the
gooGness of his heart. and gave me an
order to make a copy of a Teniers. At
once, rull of ardor. l fastened to the great
gallery of the Louvre From the first dav
i did good work. That I was thus going to
earn some money made me work, but the
pressure l experienced in copying favor
lie picture made me- work quickly and we'll
An. the pictures of Teniers! What sensa-
tions they awakened in my being these fat
and bristlng burghers. with their plump
ana rubicund cheeks, the laughter wrjnk kIes
around their pop eyes, thruSting their jolly
roses INTO their rarkards! There was no
sentiment OF envy aroused in me in gazing
upon their pictured merriment. But 1 did
thhk that If could have taken myself
away from the unquet life of Paris from
our NOISY streets. from our modern houses
1"oufI nave preferred to share their life
s.i,i w sIttlhs under grape arbors. was
SdlnnS. singing and clinking pots
Inc th-rd morning after my task had he
gun repaired to the Louvre just as /
was ABOUT TO enter the officious guardian,
IN IN ms s.esh ana gold uniform. made me
an aSitdted sign. carrying his hand to his
neck remembered having seen the same
gesture at the theater. Don't you remem-
per that when Don Caesar de Bazan hears
the news that he is going to be hanged. he
puts his hand to his neck and feels of II as
II he already felt the fatal cord? just so
sestlcuiated the green and gilt guardian
stared at nim stupidity and then looked
around me- Anybody in sight? Coming
around the corner was a young woman.
but she was invisible to him. There was
nobody else Evidently to me that this
funereal gesture was addressed I did not
understand him, and therefore crossed the
threshold. 1 had scarce ascended three
steps of the staircase, when a loud cry re-
sounded behind me: "Stop-you have no
cravat:
Initiating the gesture of Don Caesar de
Bazan 1 carried my hand to my neck Alas,
1t was true 1 had lost my cravat
Don't laugh. / didn't laugh 1t was nv
only cravat- 1t was one of those cheap,
black knots which fastened around the
collar button with rubber band Five
minutes before entering the courtyard of
the Louvre 1 had stopped in the Rue de
Rivoli. gazed at myself in a shop window
mirror and had adjusted my cravat. Alas,
l bad done more than adjust my cravat-1
had lost 1T.
1T is against the rules" said the guard
ian severely. Ito permit any one to enter
the gallery without a cravat."
Well, he was right. There must be rules
in the great galleries. and while they will
hnyy mill
people in rags. in their shirt sleeves, or
without cravats.
AT this moment the lady who had been
rounding the corner passed near me- I felt
myself growing red and pale at once. and /
turned in the direction of my guardian in
order TO look away from the pretty visitor
who. as she passed. brushed me with her
Siiken gown. She wore the prettiest little
blue cravat around her neck that one could
imagine. Yes. couldn't help but notice 1t
in booking out of the corner of my eye al
her white neck.
/ stood there stunned The guardian en-
joyed my CONSERVATION. He was happy
In this moment he exercised the exalted
pleasure of authority. policeman who
orders you to move on experiences the
same secret joy. 1t is that feeling, doubt
less. which actuated Caesar and Napoleon
1 remained there for some minutes gaz-
ing at this little great man. I had nothing
IN my wardrobe that resembled in the
slightest degree a cravat, and had not a
penny about me with which to buy one
To whom could address myself? 1 was
from the country ! knew no one in Paris.
L mad no comrades from whom l could bor-
row knot of ribbon. What humilia ton!
And yet, above in the gallery. the was
sailers were waiting for me- laughing and
drinking under the grape arbor.
I left the vestibule. 1 entered the great
square Of the Louvre. and crossed 1t me-
chanically- Yet as did SO :. felt instinc-
lively that there was some one following
me. I OWNED that it was a woman and
that 1t was the woman whom 1 had met
in tine door. and who had turned and rede-
scended the staircase at the moment of my
msadventure. Why had she followed me-
Had not turned my face in order to avoid
her glance? Heaven preserve US from in
Quisitive people.
She overlook me. 1t was in truth the lady
of the staircase. She stopped in front OF
me, looking at me timidly. with a charm
ing embarrassment. She seemed moved
and troubled But, said I to myself what
has become of the pretty ribbon she just
wore around her neck? Her hands were
buried in rich muff. As she stopped and
looked at me. she withdrew one of her
hands from the muff. i saw in her fingers
the light blue silk cravat, ornamented at
its ends with white lace. IAN entrance
ticket said she to me, in a half-whisper
and she hurried away.
Here the artist stopped, and meditated
long.
'.You followed her. supposer' asked his
friend
Il never dreamed of it for a moment. The
wassailers of Teniers were waiting for me-"
And you entered the Louvre In a blue
cravat with lace ends?'
Without the least affectation, without
false shame. and perhaps with a certain
pride as I triumphantly passed the green
and gold guardian at the door,"
"And you found her some day somewhere
this pretty woman, at the seaside, In the
mountains. in society? No? But You are
married-did she not become your wlfe?''
II did not say" said the painter, dryIy
But your story Is not finished"
II am a painter. my dear boy. / finish
pictures, but never knew how to finish a