On the eve of severing their friendship René recalled to mind how it
had originated. Claude, then very poor, was a tutor in the Ecole
Saint-André when René himself was a scholar in the sixth form. A
curious legend concerning the eccentric professor was told in this
well-conducted and eminently religious institution. Some of the boys
declared they had seen him seated in an open carriage next to a very
pretty woman dressed in pink. Then one day Claude disappeared from the
school, and René did not see him again until he turned up at Fresneau's
wedding as best man, and already on the road to fame. After some talk
over old times, Claude had asked to see his poems. The writer of thirty
had shown as much indulgence as an elder brother in reading these first
essays, and had immediately treated the aspiring lad as an equal. With
what tact had he submitted these rough sketches to the processes of a
higher criticism--a criticism which encourages an artist by pointing out
his defects without crushing him beneath their weight. And then had
followed the episode of the 'Sigisbée,' in which Claude had displayed
unusual devotion for one who was himself a dramatic author.
The poet was sufficiently well acquainted with literary life to know
that even simple kindness is rarely met with between one generation and
the next. His rapid success had already procured him what is perhaps the
bitterest experience of the years of apprenticeship--the jealousy of
those very masters he admired most, in whose school he had formed his
style, and at whose feet he would so gladly have laid his sprig of
laurel. Claude Larcher's delight in another's talent was as spontaneous
and as sincere as if he had not already wielded the pen for fifteen
years. And now this valuable, nay, unique friendship was to be severed.
But was it his fault, René asked himself, as he tossed about in his
bed, and recalled all these things one after another? Why had Larcher
spoken to this wretched girl as he had done? Why had he betrayed his
young friend, who looked up to him as a brother? Why?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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