DOI article:
D'Arcy, Ella: Two stories
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.26393#0270
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Two Stories
frequently embellished the newspapers, made as little impression
on the lad’s mind as did the unequivocal allusions, jests, and
epigrams, for ever flung up like sea-spray against the rock of his
unrevered name.
The absorbing interest Corner felt glowed visibly on his fresh
young western face, and it was this, I imagine, which led Peschi
to propose that we should go back with him to his atelier and see
.the mask for ourselves.
Peschi is a Genoese ; small, lithe, very handsome ; a skilled
workman, a little demon of industry ; full of enthusiasms, with
the real artist-soul. He works for Felon the sculptor, and it was
Felon who had been commissioned to do the bust for which the
death mask would serve as model.
It is always pleasant to hear Peschi talk ; and to-night, as we
walked from the Rue Fleurus to the Rue Notre-Dame-des-
Champs he told us something of mask-taking in general, with
illustrations from this particular case.
On the preceding day, barely two hours after death had taken
place, Rivereau, one of the dead man’s intimates, had rushed into
Peschi’s workroom, and carried him off, with the necessary
materials, to the Rue Monsieur, in a cab. Rivereau, though
barely twenty, is perhaps the most notorious of the bande. Peschi
described him to Corner as having dark, evil, narrow eyes set too
close together in a perfectly white face, framed by falling, lustre-
less black hair ; and with the stooping shoulders, the troubled
walk, the attenuated hands common to his class.
Arrived at the house, Rivereau led the way up the dark and
• dirty staircase to the topmost landing, and as they paused there an
instant, Peschi could hear the long-drawn, hopeless sobs of a
woman within the door.
On being admitted he found himself in an apartment
consisting
Two Stories
frequently embellished the newspapers, made as little impression
on the lad’s mind as did the unequivocal allusions, jests, and
epigrams, for ever flung up like sea-spray against the rock of his
unrevered name.
The absorbing interest Corner felt glowed visibly on his fresh
young western face, and it was this, I imagine, which led Peschi
to propose that we should go back with him to his atelier and see
.the mask for ourselves.
Peschi is a Genoese ; small, lithe, very handsome ; a skilled
workman, a little demon of industry ; full of enthusiasms, with
the real artist-soul. He works for Felon the sculptor, and it was
Felon who had been commissioned to do the bust for which the
death mask would serve as model.
It is always pleasant to hear Peschi talk ; and to-night, as we
walked from the Rue Fleurus to the Rue Notre-Dame-des-
Champs he told us something of mask-taking in general, with
illustrations from this particular case.
On the preceding day, barely two hours after death had taken
place, Rivereau, one of the dead man’s intimates, had rushed into
Peschi’s workroom, and carried him off, with the necessary
materials, to the Rue Monsieur, in a cab. Rivereau, though
barely twenty, is perhaps the most notorious of the bande. Peschi
described him to Corner as having dark, evil, narrow eyes set too
close together in a perfectly white face, framed by falling, lustre-
less black hair ; and with the stooping shoulders, the troubled
walk, the attenuated hands common to his class.
Arrived at the house, Rivereau led the way up the dark and
• dirty staircase to the topmost landing, and as they paused there an
instant, Peschi could hear the long-drawn, hopeless sobs of a
woman within the door.
On being admitted he found himself in an apartment
consisting