The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1897-06-09
SELECTED STORY.
The Artists Story,


81 tell you, ladies'" declared hand.
some and cynical Wilton Robeley, the
artist, 1" a fortune teller showed me the
image of my wife two years before ]
ever saw her in the flesh and thou
sands of miles from the place Igfirst met
her."
"You are the last man in the world
whose mind l would think obscured by
the clouds of mysticism" replied the
rich Mrs. Austyn, his friend and patron.
"You have never shown any patience
with the charlatans who pretend to ex-
pose and expound the secrets that a
wise providence has ordained we should
not fathom. And yet you are taxing
our credulity with statement that
would be marvellous if true"
SC l must insist upon my veracity in
this instance" smiled the artist.
"Now, don't stop to argue, mamma"
urged the elder of the Austyn girls.
There is story in this, and after Mr..
Robeley has told it you can reclaim him
from the darkness of his approximations
and air you theories. Now, do tell us
all about it" and the three pretty sis
tiers sighed their curiosity in chorus.
&C. Just 80. You don't ask me to ex-
plain" said the artist with quizzical
look. 81 shall give you the remark
able facts and leave you to wrestle with
them. Eight years ago was in Paris
pursuing my studies and lived the life
of Bohemian from choice rather than
from necessity. We fellows held the
responsibilities of life very lightly and
laughed at all human phenomena that
would not yield to the test of material
ism. ! was chief among the scoffers
and found barefaced fraud in everything
from clairvoyancy 10 the piercing of the
future through the medium of tea
grounds.
"Then, as now, occasionally broke
away from my usual surroundings and
was one day sauntering along through
Rue de Bogues. AS passed one of the
most pretentious houses was startled
by scream for help and dashed through
the open doorway to find woman bat
ting with flames that with great leaps
and flashes were consuming the white
draperies of what struck me as conse-
Grated altar out of place. Our combined
efforts soon mastered the incipient con-
fiagration. AS the woman anointed my
hands with some soothing lotion l saw
that she was as dark as a gypsy. Her
hair rippled back from her forehead in
waves of blue black, her eyes were bril-
liant in the same deep coloring, and her
strong, even teeth suggested polished
ivory. She was an amazon in size, yet
the sweeping curves of beauty were
such as to fascinate the artist, while
her motions were as supple and grace
full as those of tiger.
"' You are gentleman, and there is
but one way in which l can offer return
for your service she said, as l turned
to leave. Her voice was soft as the
notes of lutte, and her accent gave
unsupported charms to my mother
tongue. Il was born of royal blood in
India. Through study of the sacred
Vedas and the pure doctrine of Karma
1 attained the power of divination.
Your people would classify me among
fortune tellers, but l am poles apart
from the vulgar humbugs that trade
upon ignorance and superstition. Prom
Use you will come tomorrow, for am
upset by this accident. Then l will
be both your historian and your proph-
ct. l shall count on you, m'seur.'
Though mentally sneered at the
woman's pretensions and lay awake
half the night assuring myself that 1
would never seek her out, was at her
door ten minutes before the appointed
time next day. She had either as
sumed her professional air or was I'M
der the spell of her supernatural attain
ments. / will not describe the inner
temple of mysteries to which she con-
Quoted me, but in the weird effect of
its hangings, mirrors, grotesque cary
ings and mythical symbols it challenges
the most hardened skepticism. Throw
ing the whole light of golden light
upon my face with powerful reflector,
she generalized upon my past life as
any shrewd Judge of human nature
might do. Then, suddenly knitting
her brows and leaning closer she slow
ly spelled out Marcia Arnold
That is the name Of the girl you
will marry" she announced in dreamy
voice, and there you see her.
"With that the lights faded to the
dimness of deep twilight and there fol-
lowed the darkness of a dungeon. OPP
posite me as if in life was the image
of the sweet and beautiful woman you
know as Mrs. Robeley. Never before
had l been dominated by the tender
passion, but there was fathoms deep
in love with what might have been an
enchanting illusion or superb paint
ing. So deeply was / impressed that
after leaving in bewilderment of
doubt / sketched the magnificent crea-
ture 30 indelibly impressed upon my
memory.
Eighteen months later l was in
Southern California, enjoying the me-
dicinal virtues of the climate and find.
ing subjects in some of the delightful
scenery. One morning had my easel
at the edge of a wooded precipice over
looking a charming spread of land
scape. The velvet carpeting of grass
and moss had failed to warn me of ap.
preaching footsteps, and when turned
il was the startled mOYement caused by