Los Angeles herald., 1906-03-11

lE5SzSsI exploring the antiquities Of RiyOli;
and | set off home. Old Ursula had prepared d
dainty repast for us, and when the meal was
over Daphne lit the lamp, drew the curtains, and
took her seat by the fire.
Read to me, Frank. There is a whole heap of
newspapers over there"
/ sat footstool at her feet, with the file
OF journals beside me- in the light of the blaz-
ing fire.
Where shall 1 begn?"
Anywhere you like"
Very we'll Theatre of Varieties Westmn.
ster; every night, at $50. Tottie Rosebud will
sing Then she wunE the other eye" Admis-
SION" Just then my eye lighted upon name
that drew from me an exclamation of surprise.
Whats the matter, Frank"
Here's that fellow Vasari's name"
Fellow Vasari, indeed!' returned Daphne
with mock dignity. DO you mean the eminant
artist Signor Angelo Vasari?"
That's it. Here's notice of his famous
daub."
80 go on, Frank! Read it, read it," she cried
eagerly.
The praises of rival are never very pleasant
reading Pity me, then at having to read the
following:
The principal topic of conversation among
artcircles at present is very remarkable pic
ture, called in the catalogue "The Fall of Caesar"
The artist, who till yesterday completely I'm
known to the public, is one Angelo Vasari an
Italian by birth, who has, however, spent the
greater part of his life in the art-schools of Lon
don. Though but twenty-five years of age, this
new artist has produced work that without
exaggeration. may be ranked with the finest com
positions. What causes great surprise is the
fact that up to the present time Vasar has never
produced a work that deserved to rank above
mediocrity.'
"'The Vasari Gallery is situated in
the Rue de Sevres. What the visitor first sees
entering the apartment is wide doorway at
the farther end draped each side with cur
tains between which be court appar-
emily open to the sky. By of these columns
rises the statue of a warrior mounted on pedes-
tai, and at the base lies PROSTATE form, which
requires second glance to certify that it is a
dead body, especially the bloodstained weap-
that have accomplished the deed are scat
tered on the pavement around.
" The spectator mot in the secret) hurres for
ward, and on arriving at the end of the apart
ment hardly be persuaded that doorway
exists, and that the whole scene is simply pic
ture painted on canvas. Yet 20 it is.
+" Mr.. Vasari might reasonably and with per
feet fidelity to historic truth have Caesar falling
with his head concealed in the folds of his toga;
but dsdanng such method the artist has per-
mitted the whole of Caesars face to be seen, for
the purpose of deneating with CHASTITY realism
the expression Of dead face. The effect of the
sunlight quivering on"
At this point paused to look up at Daphne,
whose eyes were eloquently expressive of the
interest she was taking in the subject.
"Go on" she said eagerly. Don't stop"
It was with certain amount of malice that |
replied
"There is no more"
"No more? 1t doesn't end in the middle OF a
Probably not. But some one has been kind
10 tanr of tha bottOno of this sheet
at this very line"
"Who can have torn it," she said, taking no
notice of my gbe. mot uncle, I'm sure. Oh, |
know now. It was Angelo himself that did it.
Don't you remember? This morning, when he
lit his cigar"
GLOW curious that Angelo should tear the very
paper referring to himself!'' remarked Daphne.
Very" I responded drily.
"How provoking! You'll send tomorrow for
another copy, won't you Frank? Say good night
TO papa for me"
And she danced gaily off to bed at an earlier
hour than usual. Now, my eyes had been fixed
IN the fireplace where Angelo, after lighting his
,igar had thrown the burnt paper, and in one
corner of the fender l had fancied I could per
,eive charred piece of paper. Accordingly after
Daphne had gone pounced on this fragment. 1t
,rtlmbled to black powder in my hands, save one
title unburnt piece.
This piece contained six words only; yet they
we're sufficient to my pulse to throb more
quickly
That was ALL
The memory of my lost brother had been
strangely revived by the events of the day, aud
he nhrase IAN Anglo-Indian officer" naturally
md Immediately associated itself with his name.
n was impossible in my then state of ignorance
n establish a connection between my brother and
Angeles picture.
From the picture my thoughts wandered to the
,;dalgo whom Angelo had represented as having
purchased it. and with view to learning some
hing. however brief, about this grandee, took
lown from the shelf book the Spanish peer
lpe, and turned over its pages | was still occu-
lied thus when my uncle returned.
"Have YOU discovered anything?" was my first
question.
absolutely nothing.
"Paolo had nothing to reveal?"
'cPaolo was not there I was in the cathedral
o,lare by eight, but could nothing of him.
looked IN at the cathedral, too. 1t bright
With lamps being the eve of fiesta; but he was ;
,ot there; so, after two hours patient watching
md waiting I gave it up in disgust But what
,onderous tome are you poring over so studi'
,usly?"
"The Spanish Peerage."
'"You remember to whom Angelo said he had
old his pictures?
'The Spanish baron, De Argandarez. All II
ee you are looking him up"
''I am; and, do you know, cannot find the !
,ame anywhere in this book" Z
'You haven't looked in the right place"
'l Divine must have had motive for the
ie." replied, with an emphasis the last
gord, as a protest against my unce's euphemism.