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You know, for you are an artist." "I I have done my best," said Rufin despairingly. "If I could go instead and leave you to paint oh, believe me, I would go now gladly, proudly, for I should have given the world pictures great pictures." A spasm of emotion filled his eyes with tears, and some one touched his arm and drew him aside.
"And I must not forget," she told herself "I really must not forget to attend to that hotel man." Papa Musard, whenever he felt that he was about to die, which happened three times a year at least, would beckon as with a finger from the grimy Montmartre tenement in which he abode and call Rufin to come and bid him farewell.
If it had not been for the culinary skill of Noel the cook, the famous Atheist physician Lametrie would not have died of indigestion, for the pie he succeeded in eating in his extremity was made by Noel. Lametrie often supped with Madame Rufin and I thought it disobliging of him to die so soon, for I should have liked to know him, as he was a learned man and full of mirth.
They are condemned to death, all of them. They have their affair!" Rufin shrugged and led the way back to the office. But it was empty; the girl had gone. "Tiens!" said the official. "No doubt she heard of the sentence and knew that there was no more to be done." "Or else," said Rufin thoughtfully, frowning at the floor "or else she reposes her trust in me."
The girl had not spoken since they started; she remained sitting still in her place when the cab halted at a door, and it needed his hand on her arm to rouse her to dismount. She followed him obediently between more men in uniform, and they found themselves in a corridor, where an officer, obviously waiting there for the purpose, greeted Rufin with marked deference.
"Then there is an artist the artist of whom you talk who is one of the apaches! It is unbelievable!" At the word apaches the girl turned on him with teeth bared as though in a snarl. But at the sound of Rufin's voice she subsided. "What is his name quickly?" he demanded. "Giaconi," she answered. Rufin looked his question at the little official, who turned to the girl.
I could not travel without a servant, and chance kindly provided me with one. I was sitting with Madame Rufin, when a young Lorrainer came in; like Bias, he bore all his fortune with him, but, in his case, it was carried under his arm. He introduced himself thus: "Madam, my name is Lambert, I come from Lorraine, and I wish to lodge here."
I thought her proposal so curious a one that I had a great inclination to laugh, but finding it at the same time very advantageous I accepted frankly, and as if we had long been friends. On the first day I was tired, and did not sup with her till the day following. Madame Rufin had a husband who attended to the cooking, and a son, but neither of them came to these suppers.
She choked noisily and was for the while almost enthusiastic. "He shall have the card," she promised. "I swear it! After all, artists must have their experiences. Doubtless the monsieur who resides above is a great painter?" "A very great painter," replied Rufin.
But, O squire! how could you stay from us so long, and let us be tempted by that fiend of the pit, Rufinn? we should have followed you through flood and fire, to be sure. 'Rufin! I assure you, Houghton, you have been vilely imposed upon. 'I often thought so, said Houghton,'though they showed us your very seal; and so Tims was shot and I was reduced to the ranks.
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