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The vision of Pellerin and his Interpreter, face to face at last, had a Cyclopean grandeur that dwarfed all other comedy. "And I shall hear of it presently; in an hour or two he'll be telling me about it. And that hour will be all mine mine and his!" The dizziness of the thought made it difficult for Bernald to preserve the balance of the supper-plates he was distributing.
"Oh, of course Howland's not what you'd call a popular writer; he despises that kind of thing. But whatever he says goes with well, with the chaps that count; and every one tells me he's written the book on Pellerin. You must read it when you get back your eyes." He paused, as if to let the name sink in, but Winterman drew at his pipe with a blank face.
"Just as this man's ideas are why, are Pellerin!" The thought uttered itself in a kind of inner shout, and Bernald started upright with the violent impact of his conclusion. Again and again in the last forty-eight hours he had exclaimed to himself: "This is as good as Pellerin." Why hadn't he said till now: "This is Pellerin"? ... Surprising as the answer was, he had no choice but to take it.
The gist of fact at the core of the extraordinary experience was simply that John Pellerin, twenty-five years earlier, had voluntarily disappeared, causing the rumour of his death to be reported to an inattentive world; and that now he had come back to see what that world had made of him.
He had pitched the note so screamingly, and held it so long, that he was now the accepted authority on Pellerin, not only in the land which had given birth to his genius but in the Europe which had first acclaimed it; and it was the central point of pain in Bernald's sense of the situation that a man who had so yearned for silence as Pellerin should have his grave piped over by such a voice as Wade's.
"Well, then, look through two or three treatises on numismatics, the 'Thesaurus Morellianus', or the 'Praestantiora Numismata', of Valliant, or Banduri, or Pembrock, or Pellerin. You may chance upon a scent." "Thank you, thank you, sir!" He saw me to the door. As I turned to go I noticed that his daughter was standing motionless still, with the face of an angry Diana.
Bernald that what we need at this very minute is a Pellerin revival; and we need some one like you to whom his message comes as a wonderful new interpretation of life to lead the revival, and rouse us out of our apathy. ... And it's for that reason that I urged Mr.
How a man lacking the critical faculty may be misled is to be seen in What is Art? To master his subject the deluded novelist read all the essays, disquisitions, and works he could find on the theme of æsthetics. This as a preparation for clear thinking. It reminds one of that comical artist Pellerin, in Flaubert's L'Education Sentimentale, who devoured all the æsthetic treatises, ancient and modern, in search of a true theory of the beautiful before he painted a picture; and he had so thoroughly absorbed the methods of various painters that he could not sit down at his easel in the presence of his model without asking himself: Shall I "do" her
ARTHUR BERNALD could never afterward recall just when the first conjecture flashed on him: oddly enough, there was no record of it in the agitated jottings of his diary. But, as it seemed to him in retrospect, he had always felt that the queer man at the Wades' must be John Pellerin, if only for the negative reason that he couldn't imaginably be any one else.
Bernald questioned, with a tremor. "He said: 'That's queer, for I've never read Pellerin." Bernald drew a deep breath of ecstasy. "Well and I suppose you believed him?" "I believed him, because I know him. But the public won't the critics won't. And if it's a pure coincidence it's just as bad for him as if it were a straight steal isn't it?" Bernald sighed his acquiescence.
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