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daughter Ginevra and my wife； having taken the sacrament that morning；
escaped； the Virgin protected them。 When I returned I found no house；
my feet were in its ashes as I searched for it。 Suddenly they struck
against the body of Gregorio； I recognized him in the moonlight。 'The
Portas have dealt me this blow；' I said； and； forthwith； I went to the
woods； and there I called together all the men whom I had ever served；
do you hear me； Bonaparte？and we marched to the vineyard of the
Portas。 We got there at five in the morning； at seven they were all
before God。 Giacomo declares that Eliza Vanni saved a child； Luigi。
But I myself bound him to his bed before setting fire to the house。 I
have left the island with my wife and child without being able to
discover whether； indeed； Luigi Porta is alive。〃
Bonaparte looked with curiosity at Bartolomeo； but without surprise。
〃How many were there？〃 asked Lucien。
〃Seven；〃 replied Piombo。 〃All of them were your persecutors in the
olden times。〃
These words roused no expression of hatred on the part of the two
brothers。
〃Ha！ you are no longer Corsicans！〃 cried Piombo； with a sort of
despair。 〃Farewell。 In other days I protected you；〃 he added； in a
reproachful tone。 〃Without me； your mother would never have reached
Marseille；〃 he said； addressing himself to Bonaparte； who was silent
and thoughtful； his elbow resting on a mantel…shelf。
〃As a matter of duty； Piombo；〃 said Napoleon at last； 〃I cannot take
you under my wing。 I have become the leader of a great nation； I
command the Republic； I am bound to execute the laws。〃
〃Ha！ ha！〃 said Bartolomeo； scornfully。
〃But I can shut my eyes；〃 continued Bonaparte。 〃The tradition of the
Vendetta will long prevent the reign of law in Corsica；〃 he added； as
if speaking to himself。 〃But it MUST be destroyed； at any cost。〃
Bonaparte was silent for a few moments； and Lucien made a sign to
Piombo not to speak。 The Corsican was swaying his head from right to
left in deep disapproval。
〃Live here； in Paris；〃 resumed the First Consul； addressing
Bartolomeo； 〃we will know nothing of this affair。 I will cause your
property in Corsica to be bought； to give you enough to live on for
the present。 Later； before long； we will think of you。 But； remember；
no more vendetta！ There are no woods here to fly to。 If you play with
daggers； you must expect no mercy。 Here； the law protects all
citizens； and no one is allowed to do justice for himself。〃
〃He has made himself the head of a singular nation；〃 said Bartolomeo；
taking Lucien's hand and pressing it。 〃But you have both recognized me
in misfortune； and I am yours； henceforth； for life or death。 You may
dispose as you will of the Piombos。〃
With these words his Corsican brow unbent； and he looked about him in
satisfaction。
〃You are not badly off here；〃 he said； smiling； as if he meant to
lodge there himself。 〃You are all in red； like a cardinal。〃
〃Your success depends upon yourself； you can have a palace； also；〃
said Bonaparte； watching his compatriot with a keen eye。 〃It will
often happen that I shall need some faithful friend in whom I can
confide。〃
A sigh of joy heaved the vast chest of the Corsican； who held out his
hand to the First Consul； saying：
〃The Corsican is in you still。〃
Bonaparte smiled。 He looked in silence at the man who brought； as it
were； a waft of air from his own land；from that isle where he had
been so miraculously saved from the hatred of the 〃English party〃； the
land he was never to see again。 He made a sign to his brother； who
then took Piombo away。 Lucien inquired with interest as to the
financial condition of the former protector of their family。 Piombo
took him to a window and showed him his wife and Ginevra； seated on a
heap of stones。
〃We came from Fontainebleau on foot； we have not a single penny；〃 he
said。
Lucien gave his purse to his compatriot； telling him to come to him
the next day； that arrangements might be made to secure the comfort of
the family。 The value of Piombo's property in Corsica； if sold； would
scarcely maintain him honorably in Paris。
Fifteen years elapsed between the time of Piombo's arrival with his
family in Paris and the following event； which would be scarcely
intelligible to the reader without this narrative of the foregoing
circumstances。
CHAPTER II
THE STUDIO
Servin； one of our most distinguished artists； was the first to
conceive of the idea of opening a studio for young girls who wished to
take lessons in painting。
About forty years of age； a man of the purest morals； entirely given
up to his art； he had married from inclination the dowerless daughter
of a general。 At first the mothers of his pupils bought their
daughters themselves to the studio； then they were satisfied to send
them alone； after knowing the master's principles and the pains he
took to deserve their confidence。
It was the artist's intention to take no pupils but young ladies
belonging to rich families of good position； in order to meet with no
complaints as to the composition of his classes。 He even refused to
take girls who wished to become artists； for to them he would have
been obliged to give certain instructions without which no talent
could advance in the profession。 Little by little his prudence and the
ability with which he initiated his pupils into his art； the certainty
each mother felt that her daughter was in company with none but well…
bred young girls； and the fact of the artist's marriage； gave him an
excellent reputation as a teacher in society。 When a young girl wished
to learn to draw； and her mother asked advice of her friends； the
answer was； invariably： 〃Send her to Servin's。〃
Servin became； therefore； for feminine art； a specialty； like Herbault
for bonnets； Leroy for gowns； and Chevet for eatables。 It was
recognized that a young woman who had taken lessons from Servin was
capable of judging the paintings of the Musee conclusively； of making
a striking portrait； copying an ancient master； or painting a genre
picture。 The artist thus sufficed for the educational needs of the
aristocracy。 But in spite of these relations with the best families in
Paris； he was independent and patriotic； and he maintained among them
that easy； brilliant； half…ironical tone； and that freedom of judgment
which characterize painters。
He had carried his scrupulous precaution into the arrangements of the
locality where his pupils studied。 The entrance to the attic above his
apartments was walled up。 To reach this retreat； as sacred as a harem；
it was necessary to go up a small spiral staircase made within his own
rooms。 The studio； occupying nearly the whole attic floor under the
roof； presented to the eye those vast proportions which surprise
inquirers when； after attaining sixty feet above the ground…floor；
they expect to find an artist squeezed into a gut