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Ginevra； under the influence of an uneasiness she tried in vain to
disguise。 They nodded to each other in a friendly way； but said
nothing； one painted； the other stood looking at the painting。 The
breathing of the soldier in the closet could be distinctly heard； but
Madame Servin appeared not to notice it； her feigned ignorance was so
obvious that Ginevra recognized it at once for wilful deafness。
Presently the unknown man turned on his pallet。
The Italian then looked fixedly at Madame Servin； who said； without
the slightest change of face：
〃Your copy is as fine as the original； if I had to choose between the
two I should be puzzled。〃
〃Monsieur Servin has not taken his wife into his confidence as to this
mystery；〃 thought Ginevra； who； after replying to the young wife's
speech with a gentle smile of incredulity； began to hum a Corsican
〃canzonetta〃 to cover the noise that was made by the prisoner。
It was so unusual a thing to hear the studious Italian sing； that all
the other young girls looked up at her in surprise。 Later； this
circumstance served as proof to the charitable suppositions of
jealousy。
Madame Servin soon went away； and the session ended without further
events； Ginevra allowed her companions to depart； and seemed to intend
to work later。 But； unconsciously to herself； she betrayed her desire
to be left alone by impatient glances； ill…disguised； at the pupils
who were slow in leaving。 Mademoiselle Thirion； a cruel enemy to the
girl who excelled her in everything； guessed by the instinct of
jealousy that her rival's industry hid some purpose。 By dint of
watching her she was struck by the attentive air with which Ginevra
seemed to be listening to sounds that no one else had heard。 The
expression of impatience she now detected in her companion's eyes was
like a flash of light to her。
Amelie was the last of the pupils to leave the studio； from there she
went down to Madame Servin's apartment and talked with her for a
moment； then she pretended to have left her bag； ran softly back to
the studio； and found Ginevra once more mounted on her frail
scaffolding； and so absorbed in the contemplation of an unknown object
that she did not hear the slight noise of her companion's footsteps。
It is true that； to use an expression of Walter Scott； Amelie stepped
as if on eggs。 She hastily withdrew outside the door and coughed。
Ginevra quivered； turned her head； saw her enemy； blushed； hastened to
alter the shade to give meaning to her position； and came down from
her perch leisurely。 She soon after left the studio； bearing with her；
in her memory； the image of a man's head； as beauteous as that of the
Endymion； a masterpiece of Girodet's which she had lately copied。
〃To banish so young a man！ Who can he be？ for he is not Marshal Ney〃
These two sentences are the simplest expression of the many ideas that
Ginevra turned over in her mind for two days。 On the third day； in
spite of her haste to be first at the studio； she found Mademoiselle
Thirion already there； having come in a carriage。
Ginevra and her enemy observed each other for a long time； but they
made their faces impenetrable。 Amelie had seen the handsome head of
the mysterious man； but； fortunately； and unfortunately also； the
Imperial eagles and uniform were so placed that she did not see them
through the crevice in the partition。 She was lost in conjectures。
Suddenly Servin came in； much earlier than usual。
〃Mademoiselle Ginevra；〃 he said； after glancing round the studio； 〃why
have you placed yourself there？ The light is bad。 Come nearer to the
rest of the young ladies and pull down that curtain a little。〃
Then he sat down near Laure； whose work deserved his most cordial
attention。
〃Well； well！〃 he cried； 〃here； indeed； is a head extremely well done。
You'll be another Ginevra。〃
The master then went from easel to easel； scolding； flattering；
jesting； and making； as usual； his jests more dreaded than his
reprimands。 Ginevra had not obeyed the professor's order； but remained
at her post； firmly resolved not to quit it。 She took a sheet of paper
and began to sketch in sepia the head of the hidden man。 A work done
under the impulse of an emotion has always a stamp of its own。 The
faculty of giving to representations of nature or of thought their
true coloring constitutes genius； and often； in this respect； passion
takes the place of it。 So； under the circumstances in which Ginevra
now found herself； the intuition which she owed to a powerful effect
upon her memory； or； possibly； to necessity； that mother of great
things； lent her； for the moment； a supernatural talent。 The head of
the young officer was dashed upon the paper in the midst of an awkward
trembling which she mistook for fear； and in which a physiologist
would have recognized the fire of inspiration。 From time to time she
glanced furtively at her companions； in order to hide the sketch if
any of them came near her。 But in spite of her watchfulness； there was
a moment when she did not see the eyeglass of the pitiless Amelie
turned full upon the drawing from the shelter of a great portfolio。
Mademoiselle Thirion； recognizing the portrait of the mysterious man；
showed herself abruptly； and Ginevra hastily covered the sheet of
paper。
〃Why do you stay there in spite of my advice； mademoiselle？〃 asked the
professor； gravely。
The pupil turned her easel so that no one but the master could see the
sketch； which she placed upon it； and said； in an agitated voice：
〃Do you not think； as I do； that the light is very good？ Had I not
better remain here？〃
Servin turned pale。 As nothing escapes the piercing eyes of malice；
Mademoiselle Thirion became； as it were； a sharer in the sudden
emotion of master and pupil。
〃You are right；〃 said Servin； 〃but really；〃 he added； with a forced
laugh； 〃you will soon come to know more than I do。〃
A pause followed； during which the professor studied the drawing of
the officer's head。
〃It is a masterpiece！ worthy of Salvator Rosa！〃 he exclaimed； with the
energy of an artist。
All the pupils rose on hearing this； and Mademoiselle Thirion darted
forward with the velocity of a tiger on its prey。 At this instant； the
prisoner； awakened； perhaps； by the noise； began to move。 Ginevra
knocked over her stool； said a few incoherent sentences； and began to
laugh； but she had thrown the portrait into her portfolio before
Amelie could get to her。 The easel was now surrounded； Servin
descanted on the beauty of the copy which his favorite pupil was then
making； and the whole class was duped by this stratagem； except
Amelie； who； slipping behind her companions； attempted to open the
portfolio where she had seen Ginevra throw the sketch。 But the latter
took it up without a word； and placed it in front of her。 The two
young girls then looked at each other fixedly； in silence。
〃Come； mesdemoiselles； take your places；〃 said Servin。 〃If you wish to
do as well as Mademoiselle di Piombo； you mustn't be always talking
fashions and balls； and trifling away your time as you do。〃
When they were all reseated before their easels； Servin sat down
beside Ginevra。
〃Was it not better that I should be the one to discover the mystery
rather than the others？〃 asked the girl； in a low voice。
〃Yes；〃 replied the painter； 〃you are one of us； a patriot； but even if
you were not； I should still have confided the matter to you。〃
Master and pupil understood each other； and Ginevra no longer feared
to ask：
〃Who is he？〃
〃An intimate friend of Labedoyere； who contributed more than any other
man； except the unfortunate colonel； to the union of the 7th regiment
with the grenadiers of Elba。 He was a major in the Imperial guard and
was at Waterloo。〃
〃Why not have burned his uniform and shako； and supplied him with
citizen's clothes？〃 said Ginevra； impatiently。
〃He will have them to…night。〃
〃You ought to have closed the studio for some days。〃
〃He is going away。〃
〃Then they'll kill him；〃 said the girl。 〃Let him stay here with you
till the present storm is over。 Paris is still the only place in
France where a man can be hidden safely。 Is he a friend of yours？〃 she
asked。
〃No； he has no claim upon me but that of his ill…luck。 He came into my
hands in this way。 My father…in…law； who returned to the army during
the campaign； met this young fellow； and very cleverly rescued him
from the claws of those who captured Labedoyere。 He came here to
defend the general； foolish fellow！〃
〃Do you call him that！〃 cried Ginevra； casting a glance of
astonishment at the painter； who was silent for a moment。
〃My father…in…law is too closely watched to be able to keep him in his
own house；〃 he resumed。 〃So he brought him to me； by night； about a
week ago。 I hoped to keep him out of sight in this corner； the only
s