THE DELIVERER
"I shall not die, but live; and declare the works of the Lord."
The great lady pointed with a sigh of pleasure to the canvas hung between a Greuze and a Watteau! "Ah, is there anyone like LeMaury! Alone in the eighteenth century he had eyes for the world of wood and stream. You poets and critics, why do you never write of him? Is it true that no one knows anything of his life?"
The young writer hesitated. "I do not think I exaggerate, madame, when I say that I alone in Paris know his history. He was a compatriot of mine."
"Oh, come, Mr. Everett, LeMaury an American! With that name!"
"He called himself LeMaury after his protector, the man who brought him to France. His real name was Everett, like my own. He was cousin to one of my great-grandfathers."
"Ah, an old family story. That is the best kind. You must tell it to me."
"I will write it for you, madame."