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In Hume's house at midnight Lepage lay asleep with his wife's letters received through the factor in his hand. The firelight played upon a dark, disappointed face a doomed, prematurely old face, as it seemed to the factor. "You knew him, then," the factor said, after a long silence, with a gesture towards the bed. "Yes, well, years ago," replied Hume.
And then beyond this, deeps upon deeps, to which my imagination did not go and of which the Frenchwoman, with all her freedom of tongue, gave me no more than a hint which I could not comprehend. Claire Lepage at this time was desperately lonely and unhappy. Having made the discovery that my arms were sturdy, used to doing a man's work, she clung to them.
If he is found, I should not fear the return journey; success gives hope. But we trust in God. Another day passed and at night, after a hard march, they camped five miles from Manitou Mountain. And not a sign! But Hume felt there was a faint chance of Lepage being found at this mountain. His iron frame had borne the hardships of this journey well; his strong heart better.
The dog blinked, and pushed its nose against his arm. "Ten years ago two young men who had studied and graduated together at the same college were struggling together in their profession as civil engineers. One was Clive Lepage and the other was Jaspar Hume. The one was brilliant and persuasive, the other, persistent and studious.
Her thoughts went back to the days when, blind and ill, Hume went away for health's sake, and she remembered how sorry then she felt for him, and how grieved she was that when he came back strong and well, he did not come near her or her husband, and offered no congratulations. She had not deliberately wronged him. She knew he cared for her: but so did Lepage.
I figured that I should hear from Claire Lepage about two days after I reached New York; and sure enough, she called me on the 'phone. "I want to see you at once," she declared; and her voice showed the excitement under which she was labouring. "Very well," I said, "come down." She entered my little living-room.
Henry Ady was to write on Bastien Lepage for the "Portfolio," but she had not all the documents she wanted, and my husband undertook to procure them. A talented French marine-painter, M. Jobert, with whom Mr. Hamerton was acquainted, introduced him to M. Emile Bastien Lepage, brother of the artist. "January 11, 1894. Was much pleased with my visit.
The White Guard, with their faces turned homeward, and the man they had sought for in their care, seemed to have acquired new strength. Through days of dreadful cold, through nights of appalling fierceness, through storm upon the plains that made for them paralysing coverlets, they marched. And if Lepage did not grow stronger, life at least was kept in him.
It is, what Lorenzo's masterpiece necessarily must be, in the highest degree a modern performance; as modern as a picture by Bastien Lepage; as an opera, founded upon local music, by Bizet.
Jaspar Hume's face was wrathful, and remained so till the other sank back in the chair with his forehead in his hands; but it softened as he saw this remorse and shame. He began to see that Lepage had not clearly grasped the whole situation. He said in quieter but still firm tones: "No, Lepage, that matter is between us two, and us alone. She must never know the world therefore must never know.
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