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CONTENTS
Art Represents Ideals 11
P refa c e xv
Art as a Declaration of Power 13
The Power to Convey Immortality 14
The Power to Change Our Beliefs 14
The Power to Shock 15
Art News:
Controversy Over the Vietnam Memorial 16
The Power to Touch Our Emotions 17
PA RT O N E The Power to Awaken Our Senses 17
The Power to Transform The Ordinary 18
The L a n g u a g e of Ar t The Power of Art for the Artist

Self-Expression
19
19
The Artist at Play 19
C h a p t e r 1 : T h e P o w e r o f Ar t 2 The Artist’s Memory 20
Art News: Defining Art 21
The Mona Lisa Has Been Stolen! 3 Folk Art 22
Craft and Decorative Art 22
Looking at Art 4
Lives of Artists:
Learning How To See 4
Nick Cave: The World Is His Palette 23
Methods and Materials 5
Design 24
Placing Art and Artist in Historical Context 5
Art is Beauty 27
Art and Culture 6
Art is Originality and Creativity 28
The Powers of Art: Bringing Faith To Life 7 Ways to Understand Art 28
Prehistoric Art and Magical Powers 7 The Artist and the Art 29
The Power of Art for Tribal Peoples 9 Art and Art History 30
A Global View:
When We Know More, We See More 32
Journeys To The Spirit Worlds 10
Beginning the Journey 32
The Power of Religious Art 11
Chapter 2:
The Pr imar y Elements 34
Space 34
Line 35
Shape 37
The Spirit of the Forms 39
Light, Shadow, and Value 40
Texture 41
Color 43
Describing Color 44
Color Wheel 45
The Science of Color 46
Art News:
J E A N D E C H E L L E S, rose window of the north transept, Notre
Augustus: In Living Color 47
Dame Cathedral, Paris, France, 1240–1250. Stained glass, Naturalistic Versus Arbitrary Color 50
iron, and lead stone-bar tracery, diameter 43'. Emotional Resonance 50
viii
Z H A N WA N G, Urban Landscape, 2003. Stainless steel, garden rocks,

pots, pans, eating utensils, and mirror. Hayward Gallery, 2006. Photo by
Stephen White, Pekin Fine Arts Co. Ltd. © Zhan Wang
C h a p t e r 3 : T h e P r i n c i ples Brush And Ink 80

of Design 52 Wash 80
Contemporary Approaches To Drawing 81
Placement 52
Balance 54
Symmetry and Asymmetry 55 Chapter 5: Painting 84
Emphasis 57
Unity and Variety 58 Encaustic 84
Proportion and Scale 59 Fresco 86
Art News: Tempera Panel 86
Scale on Trial: The Tilted Arc Controversy 64
Oil Painting 87
Designing and Organizing Space with Depth 66
Watercolor and Gouache 90
Linear Perspective 68
Acrylic 91
A Modern Way of Seeing: Cubism and Nonperspective Space 69
Contemporary Approaches to Painting 92
A Global View:
Tibetan Sand Painting 93
PA RT T WO Unique Materials 94
The Art i s t ’s Ma t e r i a ls
an d Tool s
Chapter 4: Drawing 72
Graphite 73
Art News:
The Lost Drawings of Michelangelo 74
Charcoal 76
Chalk And Pastel 76
Crayon 78 A Sand Mandala is constructed of grains of col-
ored sand during an eight-day ritual by monks
Pen And Ink 78 from the Drepung Loseling Monastery in India.
contents
ix
Chapter 8: New M edia:

Time and Digital Ar ts 128
Time as an Artist’s Medium 128
Moving Pictures 130
Video Art 131
The Artist and the Computer 134
The Pioneers of Digital Art 135
The Digital Studio 137
Hardware 137
U TAGAWA (A N D O) H I R O -
S H I G E, Maple Leaves The Digital Media 138
at the Tekona Shrine, Image Editing 138
Mamma, 1857. Color Graphic and Type Design 139
woodcut, 13 3 ⁄ 4 " × 9 3 ⁄ 8 ".
Brooklyn Museum of Art Digital Video 140
(Gift of Anna Ferris), New Digital Animation 141
York. A Global View:
Japanese Anime 144
Internet 145
Interactive 145
Chapter 6: Printmaking 96 Chapter 9: Sculptur e 148

Relief Printmaking 97 Relief Sculpture 149
Woodcut 97 Sculpture in the Round 150
Wood Engraving 99 Kinetic Sculpture 150
Intaglio Printmaking 99 Performance Art 152
Metal Engraving 100
Lives of the Artists:
Installations 153
June Wayne: Artist, Printmaker, Catalyst 102 Earth Art 154
Etching 103 A Global View:
Aquatint 104 Eighth-Century Earth Artists 157
Lithography 104
Silkscreen 105
Art Issues:
What’s the Difference Between a Print and a Poster? 106
Unique Prints 109
Contemporary Approaches 110
Chapter 7: Photography 112

Technique And Development 112
The Camera 114
Styles of Photography 115
Straight Photography 115
Beyond Reproduction: Fine Art Photography 118
Photomontage 119 G I U S E P P E P E N O N E,
Art Issues: Cedre de Versailles,
Can Art Be Obscene? 121 2002. © 2012 Artists
R i g h t s Society (A R S), New
Contemporary Approaches 123 Yo r k / A D AG P, Paris.
x
Sculptural Methods 158

Modeling 158
Casting 158
Wood Carving 160
The Wood Sculptures of Martin Puryear: Handmade
Contemporary Art 162
Stone Carving 163 The second coffin of Tut-
ankhamen (rule 136 1–1352
Modern Sculptural Methods: Constructing and Assembling 164 b c e ). Gilded wood inlaid
Contemporary Approaches 164 with glass paste, 6' 7"
long. Egyptian Museum,
Mixed Media 165 Cairo, Egyp t.
Chapter 10: Architecture 168 Materials and Methods 176

The Art of Architecture 168 Earth, Clay, and Brick 176
The Architect as Artist and Engineer: Planning 168 Stone 177
Harmony of Exterior and Interior Design 170 Wood 179
Harmony with Natural Setting 171 Iron and Glass 181
Art To Be Lived In 172 Steel and Glass 181
A Global View: Reinforced Concrete 183
The Wonders of the World 173 Mixed Building Materials 184
The Parthenon 174 Architecture Is a Product of Its Time and the Past 185
The Greek Orders 175 Saint Peter’s 185
Monticello 187
Urban Planning 189
Contemporary Approaches 189
Chapter 11: Decor ative Arts,

Cr afts, and Design 192
The Craft Media 193
Ceramics 193
Glass 195
A Global View:
Japanese Aesthetics: The Tea Ceremony
and the Zen Garden 196
Metalwork 198
Fiber Arts 198
Wood 200
The Studio Crafts Movement 201
Contemporary Approaches In Crafts 204
Design 206
Graphic Design 207
Industrial Design 208
Elsa Schiaparelli: Fashion As Art 209
Ryoanji Zen Temple, Japanese Sand Garden, Kyoto, c. 1525. Interior Design 210
Stones, bare white sand. Landscape Design 213
contents
xi
Chapter 14: The Renaissance 275

PA RT T H R E E
The Idea of the Renaissance 276
Early Renaissance Sculpture and Architecture 277
A G l ob a l Heri t a ge Donatello 278
Early Renaissance Painting: Mastering Perspective 281
A Love of Learning and Grazia 281
C h a p t e r 1 2 : A n c i e n t E m p ir es, Leonardo Da Vinci 282
Ancient Gods 217 Art News:
The Birth of Modern Anatomy 283
The First Civilizations 218 The High Renaissance 284
Art Issues: Michelangelo 287
Preserving the Past: A Race Against Time 219 Art Issues:
Egypt 220 The Cost of Restoration: The Sistine Chapel
Ancient China 223 and the Last Supper 290
The Classical World: Greece 224 Raphael 292
The Classical Age 225
A Global View:
A World Mountain For Worship 228
Art Issues:
The Elgin Marbles Controversy 230
Classical Greek Sculpture 231
A Global View:
Fertility Goddesses 233
Hellenistic Greece 234
The Classical World: Rome 236
Imperial Rome 236
Roman Architecture 238
Organized Conquerors 239
Roman Temples 241
Roman Painting and Mosaics 242
The Decline of Rome 243
C h a p t e r 1 3 : T h e A g e o f Faith 247
Religious Images or Sacrilege? 249
Early Christian and Byzantine Art 250
The Early Middle Ages 252
Islam 255
A Global View:
A World Apart: Mesoamerica 256
Buddhism 260
Hinduism 262
The Middle Ages 264
The Romanesque Style 265
The Gothic Style 267
Art News:
The Dimming of National Treasures 269 F I L I P P O B R U N E L L E S C H I, Dome of the Florence
Medieval Art in Italy 270 Cathedral, 1420–1436. Florence, Italy.
xii
The Renaissance In Venice 294 Neoclassicism 345

Palladio and Architecture 294 David and the French Revolution 346
The End of the High Renaissance in Italy 295 Canova and Neoclassical Sculpture 348
The Beginning of the Northern Renaissance 297 Romanticism 350
Art in the Courts of the Duke of Burgundy 297 Goya and the Romantic Reaction 350
Jan Van Eyck 299 The Birth of Romanticism 352
Albrecht Dürer 299 The English Landscape and Romanticism 352
Hans Holbein and the Protestant Reformation 300 Romanticism and Politics in France 353
A Global View: Art News:
The Gold of the New World 301 Turner, The Fire King 354
Ingres and Late Neoclassicism 357
Northern Renaissance: The Darker Side 303 The French Art World Divided 358
Genre: Scenes From Ordinary Life 305 A Global View:
Orientalism 359
American Romanticism: The Hudson River School 361
C h a p t e r 1 5 : D r a m a a n d Light: Realism: Art And Politics 362
Ma n n e r i s m , T h e B a r o q u e, and Lives of the Artists:
Rococo 309 Rosa Bonheur Wears Pants! 364
Neoclassicism and Romanticism Merge in Academic Art 366
Mannerism 310
The Counter-Reformation and Tintoretto 311
The Baroque Period 313 Chapter 17: Out of the
El Greco 313 Studio and into the
Caravaggio And Naturalism 314
Lives of the Artists: Light: Impr essionism and
Tumultuous and Tortured Lives: Postimpr essionism 369
Caravaggio and Gentileschi 316
Artemisia Gentileschi: The Spread of Tenebroso 318 The Salons and Academic Art 371
Bernini 319 Impressionism 372
Baroque Naturalism In Spain: Velázquez 322 The Salon Des Refusés and Manet 372
A Global View: Out of the Studio and Into the Light 373
Mexican Baroque 323 Monet, The Pure Impressionist 374
The Baroque Period in the North 326 Monet in Giverny 376
Rubens 326
The Dutch Republic 329
Art News:
Judith Leyster Rediscovered 331
Rembrandt 332
The Baroque In France 335
Louis XIV and Versailles 336
The Rococo In France: The Aristocracy at Play 338
C h a p t e r 1 6 : T h e B a t t l e of
t h e I s m s : N e o c l a s s i c i sm,
R o m a n t i c i s m , a n d R e a l ism 343
The Enlightenment 344
English Art Becomes Respectable: Reynolds 344
Thomas Gainsborough 345 WA LT E R G R O P I U S, Bauhaus, Dessau, Germany, 1925–1926.
contents
xiii
Renoir 377
Morisot 378
Degas And Cassatt 379
Art News:
Artist vs. Critic 380
Rodin’s Touch 382
The Postimpressionists 383
Toulouse-Lautrec 384
Seurat and Pointillism 384
Gauguin and the Search For Paradise 386
Van Gogh: Father of Expressionism 387
A Global View:
Japonisme: Pictures of the Floating World 388
Cézanne’s Revolution 392
F R A N K L LOY D W R I G H T, Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum,
New York, 1943–1959.
PA RT F O U R
Chapter 19: The Invisible

The Modern Era M ade Visible: Abstr act and
C h a p t e r 1 8 : T h e R e a l W or ld Nonr epr esentational Ar t 422
o n Tr i a l : T h e E a r l y Tw e n tieth Crossing the Frontier 422
Century 395 The Spiritual Path to Nonrepresentation 424
Malevich and El Lissitzky: A Manifesto
The Birth of a New Century 396
for Nonrepresentation 426
Munch: “Inner Pictures of the Soul” 396
De Stijl 428
German Expressionism 397
The International Style 428
Fauvism 398
Le Corbusier: Master of the “New Spirit” in Architecture 429
Matisse 399
Frank Lloyd Wright 430
Picasso And Cubism 401
Abstract Art in America: O’Keeffe 431
A Global View:
The Living Art of Africa 402 Straight Photography 433
Lives of the Artists: Art News:
The Diary of an Affair: Picasso and Marie-Thérèse 407 The War Against Modern Art: Degenerate Art 434
Abstracting Sculpture: Brancusi 408 The Center of Western Art Shifts 435
“All Things Are Rapidly Changing”: Futurism and Speed 409 Abstract Expressionism: Modern Art Created In America 435
Pollock’s Action Painting 436
Modern Warfare for a Modern World: World War I 411
Color-Field Painting 438
Dada: To One Madness We Oppose Another 411 Teacher to the Next Generation 438
Art News: The New York School 439
Modern Art Invades America: The Armory Show 412 Nonrepresentational Sculpture 440
Marcel Duchamp And International Dada 413
Architecture: The Glass Box 441
The New Objectivity 415
Organic Abstraction 442
Surrealism 417
The Challenge of Nonrepresentational Art 444
Surrealist Juxtaposition 418
Dalí 418 Getting The Real World Back Into Art:
Magritte: The Real World On Trial 420 Rauschenberg and Johns 444
xiv
Chapter 20: A Storm of Art Issues:

Why Isn’t A Woman’s Place in the Museum? 464
Images: Art in the The Art World Becomes Global:
Contemporary World 447 Postmodern Art and the New Image 466
Pop Art 448 Postmodern Architecture 468
Venturi: Pop Architecture 450 Contemporary Nonrepresentation 470
The End of Art: Minimalism 451 Contemporary Installations and Sculpture 471
Return of Representation: Superrealism 452 New Electronic Media 474
Architecture: Breaking Down Barriers 454
British Bad Boys: Hirst and Banksy 477
Art News:
The Mud Angels of Florence 455 A Global Art World with a Rich History 479
Going Beyond The Art World 457
Art Issues:
Pilgrimages For A New Age 458 Gl ossa ry 485
Making Room For Women: Judy Chicago 460 Photo C redits 495
Changing the Nature of the Gallery Space: Performance Art 461 Index xxx
P R E FA C E
E
arly in the opening ceremonies of the 2008 long sweep of his arm. Soon, a design of curling loops
Summer Olympics in Beijing, thousands of emerged on the electronic canvas.
spectators and millions of viewers around the The dance was accompanied by traditional Chinese
world were enchanted by an unexpected dis- music. Other dancers entered, their bodies and sleeves
play of the power of art. In the middle of the Bird’s Nest acting as paintbrushes, too. As they continued to dance,
Stadium (see 20-25), sparkling against the night sky, a the LED background around their canvas changed to one
giant cylinder appeared and unrolled across the floor. of the most famous paintings in China, “A Thousand Li of
What seemed to be an enormous ancient Chinese scroll Rivers and Mountains” from the twelfth century. By their
painting was actually a technological marvel—a flexible dance’s finale, the movements of the athletic artists had
LED screen one hundred sixty yards long and seventy- created their own ink painting of water and mountains,
two feet wide. Designs from prehistoric rock paintings too. So the giant scroll’s background and center shared a
filled the background. Drifting across this screen, art and theme that symbolizes harmony and balance in Chinese
artifacts from five thousand years of Chinese civilization culture.
emerged and floated slowly like clouds across the sky. What was just as impressive as the performance
At the screen’s center was a pure white rectangle was the silence in the stadium during it. Ninety thousand
that looked like an empty sheet of paper. Figures dressed people from nations all around the world sat enthralled
in black stood at the edge of this space, until one slowly by the magic of seeing a work of art created before their
stepped onto its surface and began an acrobatic dance. eyes. Only when the painting and choreography were fin-
Viewers were amazed when he tumbled across the page, ished did the audience burst into applause.
leaving what appeared to be a curving stroke of black On the other side of the globe, that same quiet can
ink. Mesmerized by the sight, a hush fell over the thou- be heard every day in a small room in Berlin’s Neues
sands in the stadium as he drew new lines with each Museum. The room is empty except for a tall glass
Dancers performing on giant L E D screen during opening ceremonies of Beijing Summer Olympics in 2008.
xvi
cabinet at its center. In it, lit simply from above, is a bust printing, have added even more tools to the deep tool-
of Nefertiti, ancient queen of Egypt (below and 12-3). box of today’s artists. Our access to information, images,
Unlike the scene in the Birds Nest Stadium, technology videos, and sounds is unprecedented in human history,
has little place here. Cameras and cell phones are not showering us with an embarrassment of riches. This text
permitted and the guards are very vigilant. Visitors see is designed to help you navigate this flood of imagery in
Nefertiti with only the glass of the cabinet between them a clear, understandable, and enjoyable way.
and a three thousand year-old masterpiece. They circle We do not expect that you will rush out to see each
around her slowly and typically stay for a long time staring of the works you will be introduced to in this book. That
at a woman who symbolized beauty not only in her time is the work of a lifetime, not a semester. These works
but for many centuries since. The museum that houses of art are held in museums and galleries all across the
the Sun Queen is enormous, made up of three floors world. The goal is to inspire you to look at art and to give
filled with fabulous ancient artifacts, including some of you the tools to enjoy the experience. We hope to help
the treasures of Ancient Troy. But it is an open secret that you understand why the visual arts are treasured by so
here Nefertiti has no rivals. The crowds have come to many people of all races and creeds. We also try to make
see her. She presides over them with a small regal smile, sense of why so much money has been spent (and will
forever patient, a queen for all time. continue to be spent) to preserve, conserve, and protect
The atmosphere in the room is one of reverence the most famous works of art, so the power of art can be
and respect for the power of art. The intensity of the enjoyed not only today, but tomorrow by your children and
viewers’ gazes and the mesmerized expressions seen future generations.
in Berlin could also be seen in the stadium in Beijing.
Whether ancient or twenty-first century, the power of
art seems to transcend time and geography. Why else
would over a billion people each year visit museums
across the globe? In the United States alone, eight hun-
dred fifty million people enter museums annually, many
more than the four hundred seventy million who go to
theme parks and all the major league sporting events
combined. The creative urge itself appears to be pri-
mal and something that is an essential part of being
a human being. Recently, prehistoric cave art made
by children over thirteen thousand years ago was dis-
covered in caves in both Europe and Australia. There
appears to be no society in history that didn’t make and
admire art of some kind.
The writing of this third edition comes just after the
end of the first decade of the twenty-first century—a good
time to take stock of recent changes in the art world. We
have made a special effort in this edition to reflect the
increasing impact of women and non-Western painters,
sculptors, architects, photographers, and designers in
the art world today. We also wanted to present artists as
real people, and have added a new series of boxes called
“Lives of the Artists” that will give you a peek behind
the curtain so you can better understand the lives they
lived. The exciting convergence of artistic media and
cross-pollination of artists across the globe enabled by
the internet, as described in our previous edition, has A woman looks at the bust of Queen Nefertiti, c. 1340 B C E,
only expanded. New technologies, like three-dimensional at the Neues Museum (New Museum) in Berlin, Germany.
preface
xvii
11: Crafts and Design. New art and artists: Louis

C H A P T E R - B Y- C H A P T E R C H A N G E S Comfort Tiffany, Autumn, stained glass; Dale Chihuly,
IN THE THIRD EDITION Inside and Out; Marian Bantjes, Valentine. New box: “Elsa
Schiaparelli: Fashion as Art.”
1: The Power of Art. New discoveries of prehistoric 12: Ancient Empires, Ancient Gods. New art and artists:
cave art by children in South Africa and France. The art Tschumi and Photiadas, New Acropolis Museum, Athens;
of tattoo among the Maori added. New art and artists: Apollonius (attr.), The Seated Boxer; Gardenscape from
Michelangelo and the Medici Chapel, and a new box, the Villa of Prima Porta. New box: “The Elgin Marbles
“Nick Cave: The World is His Palette.” Controversy.”
2: The Primary Elements. New discussion on the Hindu 13: The Age of Faith. New art and artists: Anthemius of
festival of Holi. New art and artists: Hokusai, Boy Playing Tralles and Isidorus of Miletus, Interior of Hagia Sophia
a Flute; Calder, Josephine Baker; Caravaggio, David with and Kosho, Portrait statue of the priest Kuya preaching.
Head of Goliath; Olaf Eliasson, The Weather Project at the 14: A New Perspective: The European Renaissance.
Tate Modern; and John Constable, The Haywain. New art and artist, Fra’ Filippo Lippi, Madonna with Child
3: Principles of Design. New art and artists: Matisse and Angels.
paper cutouts, Jazz (The Burial of Pierrot); Daniel Chester 15: Drama and Light: Mannerism, the Baroque,
French; Gabriel Orozco, La D.S., modified Citroen; Andrea and Rococo. New art and artists: Jacopo Pontormo,
Dezsö’s tunnel book, Gentle Beast Hiding Among Leaves; Deposition from the Cross; Artemisia Gentileschi, Judith
and George Caleb Bingham, Card Players. Slaying Holofornes, Uffizi; Rembrandt, Self-Portrait as a
4: Drawing. New art and artists: Ingres, Study for portrait Young Man. New box: “Tumultuous and Tortured Lives:
of Louise d’Haussonville, graphite; Odilon Redon, Sita, Caravaggio and Gentileschi.”
pastel; Rembrandt, A Sleeping Woman, ink. 16: The Battle of the -isms: Classicism, Romanticism,
5: Painting. New art and artists: Diego Rivera, Detroit and Realism. New art and artists: Francisco Goya, Saturn
Industry, fresco; Raphael, Alba Madonna, oil; John Singer Devouring His Son; J.M.W. Turner, Burning of the Houses
Sargent, Venice: La Salute, watercolor; Wangechi Mutu, of Parliament; Jean-Léon Gérôme, Death of Caesar. New
One Hundred Lavish Months of Bushwack, mixed media. box: “Turner, the Fire King.”
6: Printmaking. New art and artist: Betsabeé Romero, 17: Out of the Studio and into the Light: Impressionism
Always finding another cage. New box: “June Wayne— and Post-Impressionism. New art and artists: Alexandre
Artist, Printmaker, Catalyst.” Cabanel, The Birth of Venus; Auguste Rodin, The Kiss.
7: Photography and Time-Based Arts. New artists: 18: The Real World on Trial: The Birth of Modern Art.
Thomas Demand, Junior Suite; Laila Essaydi, La Femmes New art and artists: Andre Derain, London Bridge; Henri
du Maroc: La Grande Odalisque; and Levi van Veluw, Matisse, Purple Robe and Anemones; Pablo Picasso, The
Landscape 1. Dreamer. New box: “The Diary of an Affair: Picasso and
8: New Media. Time and Digital Arts. New art and artists: Marie-Thérèse.”
Jun Nguyen-Hatsushiba, Vietnam-A Memorial Work; Nina 19: The Invisible Made Visible: Abstract and Non-
Paley, Sita Sings the Blues; and Julius Popp, bit.fall. Representational Art. New discussion on Suprematism
9: Sculpture. New discussions on the digital technique of in Russia. New art and artists: Vasily Kandinsky, Panel for
3D printing and an explanation of patina. New art and art- Edwin R. Campbell No. 1; Kazimir Malevich, Suprematist
ists include: Sarah Sze, Corner Plot; Michelangelo, Atlas Composition: Airplane Flying; El Lissitzky, Beat the Whites
Slave; Louise Nevelson, Tropical Garden II; and Stephanie with the Red Wedge; Imogen Cunningham, Leaf Pattern;
Lampert, Fly Away?, 3D printed sculpture. A New box has Mark Rothko, Untitled (Painting), 1953-1954; Hans
been added, “The Wood Sculptures of Martin Puryear: Hofmann, The Golden Wall; Mark di Suvero, The A Train.
Handmade Contemporary Art.” 20: A Storm of Images: Art in the Contemporary World.
10: Architecture. New in-depth discussion of Frank New art and artists: Roy Lichtenstein, Drowning Girl; Ana
Gehry, Guggenheim Museum of Art, Bilbao, Spain. Mendieta, Tree of Life; Herzog and de Meuron, Bird’s
New art and artists: Zaha Hadid, MAXXII—Museum of Nest Stadium, Beijing; Julie Mehretu, Stadia I; Damián
XXI Century Art, Rome and Thomas Heatherwick, Seed Ortega, Cosmic Thing (deconstructed Volkswagen Beetle);
Cathedral, Shanghai. Petah Coyne, Buddha Boy; Nam June Paik, Electronic
xviii
Superhighway; Cory Arcangel, Super Mario Clouds (modi- College; Nancy Cason, Belmont University; Claire
fied videogame); Damien Hirst, For the Love of God (dia- Hampton, Volunteer State Community College; Stephen
mond encrusted platinum skull); Banksy, Cans Buffer Henderson, Quinnipiac University; Katherine Jones,
(street art); Takashi Murakami, 727; Yinka Shonibare, Central Michigan University; Jennie Klein, Ohio University;
The Swing (after Fragonard); El Anatsui, Between Earth Pamela Lee, Washington State University; Cynthia Mills,
and Heaven; and teamLab, Life Survives by the Power of Brookhaven College; Susan Mulcahy, Volunteer State
Life (computer animated video). Two new boxes: “The Community College; Carol Norman, Jackson State
Mud Angels (of the 1966 Florence flood)” and “British Community College; Aditi Samarth, Richland College;
Bad Boys: Hirst and Banksy.” Betty Siber, Collin College; Susana Sosa, Fresno City
College; Sherry Stephens, Palm Beach Community
College; Al Wildey, Central Michigan University; and Ted
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Wygant, Daytona State College.
Like the art world, the publishing world is in the
This book is the product of many years of teaching—our midst of both a Digital and Global Age, too. The way this
own as well as that we received as students. We would text was produced reflects these important changes. The
like to acknowledge the excellence, dedication, and publishing team for Cengage Learning was not located
influence of Abe Ajay, Rudolf Arnheim, George Bayliss, in an office building, but was spread across the United
Antonio Frasconi, Al Hinton, Gerome Kamrowski, Al States and worked with sources all over the world.
Mullen, and Leonard Stokes, as well as Paul Berry, Despite the distances, we always felt a part of a talented
Dorothea Fisher, Eugenia Janis, Kenworth Moffet, and dedicated team. We want to thank our publisher,
Warren Roberts, and Clara Tucker. The following col- Clark Baxter, who contributed good spirits, a great sense
leagues at Marist College, Istituto Lorenzo de Medici, of humor, and his keen judgment to the entire project; our
and SUNY New Paltz were especially supportive during development editor, Sharon Adams Poore, who managed
this and previous revisions of The Power of Art: Artin to be the voice of reason, encouragement, and faith in
Arslanian, Fabrizio Guarducci, Dennis Murray, Steven the long process of revision and production; our project
Poskanzer, and Thomas Wermuth. manager, Lianne Ames, who kept a steady hand on the
As we revised the manuscript, many friends and col- steering wheel during the obstacle course that is publish-
leagues offered advice, inspiration, perceptive comments, ing today; Chad Kirchner, media editor; Ashley Bargende,
and analysis that aided us immensely. We are indebted assistant editor; Marsha Kaplan, editorial assistant; and
to Lorenzo Casamenti, Stefano Casu, Donise English, Kit to Joshua Adams and Lydia LeStar for their marketing
French, Thomas Goldpaugh, David Krikun, James Luciana, support.
Michele Rowe-Shields, Thomas Sarrantonio, Ed Smith, We also want to thank our production manager at
Steve Vinson, Tim Watson, Jerry White, and Beth E. Wilson. Lachina, Whitney Thompson, who calmly managed the
Over the years, we have been encouraged by enthusi- complicated production process; and our ingenious and
astic readers among younger friends like Sarah and Amy persistent photo researcher, Corey Anne Geissler at
Gross, Hannah Shreefter, Allison Oldehoff, and Elizabeth PreMediaGlobal, who surprised us with her ability to find
Moskowitz; and older art aficionados like Belle Bennett, the most challenging images so many times.
Marjorie Brockman, Dr. Jay Levine, Edward Lewis, Ruth Finally, we would like to thank our students, many of
Page, Abby Schlossberg, and Scott Skodnek. whom sent us links and brought us articles and catalogs,
In developing the third edition, we responded to the but more importantly, who showed us the way to create a
recommendations of the many instructors who used the book that could transmit the power of art. The enthusias-
first and second ones. We would like to thank in particu- tic love for art of Erich Alejandro, Nicholas Baish, Jessica,
lar the following reviewers whose perceptive comments Rachael, and Toni-Marie Chiarella, Zoe Christopher,
and analysis were extremely helpful in the preparation of Joe Concra, Zach Crittenden, Rich Dachtera, Matt
this book: Daly, Stefanie DeRario, Kim Dowd, Jessica Friedlander,
Nicholas Alley, Austin Peay State University; Melanie Ryan Khoury, Jonathan Kiselik, Heather Krumm, Kevin
Atkinson, Hinds Community College; Rodrigo Benavides, McKiernan, Mike Milano, Joe Molloy, Danielle Morrison,
St. Philip’s College; Shawn Camp, Austin Community Caitlin O’Hare, Matthew O’Neill, Christopher Perry, David
preface
xix
Restiano, Richard Santiago, Nik Sardos, Rebecca Smith, We b Tu t o r / o n B l a c k b o a r d - a n d We b C T -

Joe Ventura, and many more students like them, is what Create and manage your custom course website by pro-
encouraged us in the many years it took to bring this text viding virtual office hours, syllabi, threaded discussions
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CHAPTER 1
THE
POWER
OF ART
M
ore than eight million people enter the
Louvre Museum in Paris each year, mak-
ing it the world’s most visited museum. It
is estimated that the museum generates
the equivalent of nearly $1 billion in annual revenue for
France. Although the huge palace contains hundreds of
thousands of objects, many, if not most, visitors have
come to see the most famous painting in the world,
Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa (1-1). Signs are posted
throughout the vast museum, marking the way to its leg-
endary masterpiece. Outside the room where the painting
hangs, there is often a long line just to enter and join the
crush of the crowd. Inside, there are other paintings by
some of the most talented artists in history, but viewers
surround only one, jostling each other, pushing toward it
to get a better look. Above the crowd, one can see arms
lifting cell phones and cameras and flashes going off.
Tourists treat the painting like a famous landmark, pos-
ing for their pictures beside it. Guards are always nearby,
and wooden barriers keep viewers at a distance. Deep
within a massive case of bulletproof glass that dwarfs
the small painting, the same elegant woman who has
L E O NA R D O DA V I N C I, Mona Lisa, c. 1503–1505. Oil
1/1
on wood, approximately 30" × 2 1". Louvre, Paris,
captivated generations of art lovers regards them with
France. her inscrutable smile.
A RT N EWS
TH E M O N A LISA
HAS BEEN STOLEN!
The Mona Lisa was actually stolen from the Louvre in and left flowers where she had once hung. Investigators
1911, causing a national scandal. Although the com- turned up few clues beyond the now-empty frame. In
plete story will never be known, an ironic twist, Picasso, then
it is believed that the theft was an a young, impoverished artist,
attempt to sell not only the origi- became a suspect after two small
nal Mona Lisa but also many forged statues from the Louvre were dis-
copies. The forger’s plan was that covered in his studio. Meanwhile,
upon the shocking announcement Vincenzo Peruggia, still in Paris,
of the painting’s theft, unscru- hid the painting under a stove in
pulous wealthy collectors around his room.
the world could be easily duped Two years passed before
into buying his forgeries of the Peruggia wrote to an antiques
masterpiece. dealer in Florence, Italy, and
The forger contacted a for- offered the painting for sale.
mer employee of the Louvre, Mona Lisa’s homecoming to the
Vincenzo Peruggia, to arrange the city where she was painted was
theft. Peruggia and his accom- far from glorious. In December
plices, dressed as staff members, 1913, she traveled by train in a
entered the museum as it closed wooden trunk, under a false bot-
on Sunday afternoon, August French officials examine the Mona tom, covered by old shoes and
1/2
20, 1911. The museum would not Lisa after its return. clothing. When Peruggia pre-
open again until Tuesday. The sented the missing masterpiece
thieves hid in a broom closet and to the dealer and a museum direc-
slept overnight in the museum. Early the next morning, tor, he was promptly turned over to the authorities.
they removed the painting from its frame and carried it At the trial, the thief, who was born in Italy, claimed
through the many galleries, planning to tell anyone who that he had stolen Leonardo’s masterpiece to return it
saw them that they were bringing the Mona Lisa to the to its rightful place in his own country. A sympathetic
staff photography lab. The only one who did see them Italian jury sentenced Peruggia to only a few months in
was a plumber, who helped them open a stuck door. jail. After the trial, the Mona Lisa was displayed briefly
No one knew the painting was missing until the next in her birthplace and then was finally returned to the
day. As the word spread, art lovers flocked to the Louvre Louvre (1-2).
Painted at the height of the Italian Renaissance, this What is it about this painting that has elevated it,
fascinating portrait of a woman has attracted attention for not simply to the height of a masterpiece but to the sym-
centuries. Poems and songs have been written, essays bolic pinnacle of Western art? How can a work of art
and scholarly works composed, about an oil painting that become so valuable that it is seen as priceless? What
measures less than two feet by three feet. Even in our gives the Mona Lisa its power over people from differ-
contemporary world awash in digital images, the power of ent centuries and cultures? Although many people have
da Vinci’s portrait continues to transcend time. Legends spoken of the air of mystery that surrounds the picture
have grown up around the picture—for instance, that the of the woman with the haunting smile, on first viewing
Mona Lisa’s eyes follow one around the room. Another it is common to find the picture a disappointment. The
legend suggests that the painting on display is no longer glass makes it difficult to see, and what we see is not
the genuine Mona Lisa (see “Art News” box). exactly what Leonardo painted. The art historian Kenneth
4 C H A P T E R 1: T H E POW E R O F A RT
Clark described the Mona Lisa as “the submarine god- Let’s return to the Mona Lisa and look at her care-
dess of the Louvre,” a phrase that accurately reflects fully. First, the image is beautiful. It is not simply that
the dominant greenish tone of the painting as well as its this is the portrait of an attractive woman—in fact, La
aquarium-like casing. Yet the earliest known description Gioconda (Lisa del Giocondo) looks less than ideal to
of the portrait raves about the warmth of the colors, the contemporary eyes. Although it is safe to assume that
rosy nostrils and red lips, as well as the overall tone of she was considered nice-looking by the standards of the
the face that “seemed not to be colored but to be living sixteenth century, Leonardo did not give her face (see
flesh.” Not only has the color faded, but also at some detail, 1-3) the same perfect beauty he gave to his draw-
point in its history the painting was made smaller, prob- ings of angels, for example. But what makes a work of
ably to fit into a frame, slicing off a pair of columns that art famous is less the quality of the subject than the way
once surrounded her. it is interpreted by the artist. The Mona Lisa is beauti-
fully and gracefully painted. Viewers are attracted to da
Vinci’s work through the power of his skill as a drafts-
L O O K I N G AT A R T man and painter and his remarkable ability to bring his
subject to life.
This lifelike quality made the Mona Lisa famous in
LEARNING HOW TO SEE its own time. According to the painter Giorgio Vasari,
Despite these ravages of time, it is possible to consider Leonardo’s contemporary:
what makes the Mona Lisa a masterpiece. Whatever
Altogether this picture was painted in
the type of art in question, the first step in learning to
a manner to make the most confident
appreciate art is simply learning to look. This is more
artists—no matter who—despair and lose
challenging than is usually believed. We often think of
looking as a passive act, as in watching TV or clicking
heart . . . in this painting of Leonardo’s
through pictures on a webpage. But studying the visual there was a smile so pleasing that it
arts requires more than empty viewing; seeing can be seemed divine rather than human; and
active rather than passive. When primitive people looked those who saw it were amazed to find that
at the world, they had to observe nature because they it was as alive as the original.
were hunters and gatherers; they depended on their eyes As Vasari recognized, the Mona Lisa revolutionized
for survival. In their world, everything was natural and the art of portraiture, adding movement and life in a way
real; very little was made by humans. We, on the other never seen before.
hand, live among literally millions of images, not only in
books or on a screen but also on almost everything we
touch—from cereal boxes to printed T-shirts. As opposed
to earlier periods, most of what we see and interact with
is human-made. This constant bombardment by printed,
video, and digital images has made us visually sophisti-
cated, but it can also leave our eyes numb.
Artists often say that someone can really “see,”
as if most people cannot. What an artist means by see-
ing is difficult to explain, but it is something like the
totally involved gaze of a newborn child, hungrily look-
ing at everything as if it had never been seen before,
not blinded by preconceptions. All of us like to see new
things, but in the midst of a busy life our seeing becomes
stale, our eyes jaded. Art can renew the pleasure of see-
ing and help us feel more alive. Many people have had
the exhilarating experience after leaving a museum of
noticing that the world outside looks much more interest- Detail of figure 1-1: face of
1/3
Mona Lisa.
ing and beautiful.
part 1
LO O K I N G AT A RT 5
M E T H O D S A N D M AT E R I A L S
Leonardo wrote in his notebooks, “moderated light will
add charm to every face,” as anyone who has been on
a date in a candle-lit restaurant knows. Leonardo used
oil paint to recreate this effect, which he called sfumato
lighting (in Italian, “the soft mist of a fountain”), a soft
light that dissolved edges and made details unclear. The
Mona Lisa’s eyes and mouth were bathed in sfumato light
by Leonardo because he knew those are the two most
important areas we look at on a face. Because they are
left unclear, our imagination fills them in; the lips seem
to move and give the Mona Lisa life. Leonardo’s use of
sfumato lighting is responsible for the legends surround-
ing this painting—her inscrutable smile and the eyes that
look at you and then away.
Leonardo generated a sense of movement in
another way. Notice how the background does not line
up on either side of the Mona Lisa’s shoulders. This was
intentional: Leonardo wanted to create the illusion that
his subject is shifting her shoulder while we are looking
at her. Leonardo understood how people see, perhaps
better than anyone who had ever lived, and he used this
knowledge in subtle ways to create the illusion that his
Mona Lisa was a real person. In fact, this is how viewers
have always responded to her.
P LAC I N G A RT A N D A RT I ST I N H I STO R I C A L L E O NA R D O DA V I N C I, Drawing of Flowers and Dia-

CONTEXT 1/4
grams. Study from the notebooks, c. 1490–1519.
Black chalk and ink, 9 1 ⁄ 8 " × 6 1 ⁄ 2 ". Institut de France.
Great art reveals the spirit of the age that produced it.
Therefore, we need to know when and who made a work
of art so we can begin to consider how this affected its the first individuals to be considered a creative genius in
form. The grace and beauty of Leonardo’s Mona Lisa, the modern sense.
for example, reflects the value placed on these qualities No one can really be sure why Leonardo painted
during the Italian Renaissance. She also illustrates the this portrait of twenty-four-year-old Lisa del Giocondo, the
highly prized attribute of aloofness—what the Italians wife of an important Florentine merchant, at the same
called sprezzatura, a kind of aristocratic refinement and time when the artist was refusing paid commissions
calm. from more notable persons. We do know that Leonardo
The life of Leonardo da Vinci represents many other worked on the Mona Lisa for decades and never consid-
Renaissance values as well. Leonardo was an indepen- ered it finished. Because he reworked the image over
dent thinker, a scientific observer of nature, an imagina- and over, carrying it with him on his travels, the painting
tive inventor, and a delightful conversationalist, as well must have exerted the same endless fascination over
as a talented artist. He filled many notebooks (1-4) with the artist as it has over its viewers. Leonardo died of a
his observations, drawings, poems, and philosophical stroke in France, the guest of King Francis I (who moved
theories. Above all, he exemplifies a crucial Renaissance his mother and sisters out of a chateau so da Vinci could
idea credited with giving birth to the modern age— take up residence there), so the Mona Lisa became part
individualism. Renaissance thinkers conceived of human of the royal art collection. That is how it came to be in the
beings as potentially godlike creatures with immense Louvre Museum in Paris, and why it eventually became
physical, intellectual, and creative powers. Part of the identified as not only a part of Italian culture but French
mystique of Leonardo’s art is that it was done by one of culture as well.
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He was not used to dealing with women of her class, and though he was
ready to bully or bluster, he found nothing in her self-possessed, impersonal
manner which he could take hold of. Besides, he reflected, it was far better
not to frighten her. If he did, she might produce lawyers, or such other
undesired persons, to take part in the proceedings. He knew, far better than
she, the flimsiness of his own claims. He was not the girl's legal guardian,
and never had been. A moral claim was all that he could urge, joined to a
cunning by means of which he hoped to attain his end, for he was
convinced that it would be well worth his while to get hold of Rona. She
had grown into just such a woman as he had foreseen. He did not feel any
doubt of being able, with little difficulty, to reconcile her to the way of life
he had in view for her, when once she realized her own power, and what a
splendid time she could have if she were but sensible. But he knew well that
the tactics he had formerly adopted were woefully mistaken. Of all things
now, he must not scare her. As his mind flew rapidly over his intended
course, he felt that he could not do better than accept this dinner invitation.
He helped the two ladies into the carriage, little dreaming how the heart of
the haughty-looking Miss Rawson was knocking against her side.
"If you would kindly give me the address," he said.
Miss Rawson was seated in the victoria. She opened her card-case.
"Home," said she to the coachman, in the act of handing the card to Mr.
Leigh, with a bow and a condescending smile. The man touched his hat,
and started. They glided away, leaving Mr. Leigh staring fixedly at the card,
with a face suddenly crimson.
"Normansgrave!" he repeated over and over to himself. "Why, that's the

Vanstons' place! His brother's place! Well, of all the fools, that detective of
mine, Burnett, was the worst! And yet, of all the places that I should have
thought he would not have taken her to, his brother's place was certainly the
one." He was so thoroughly disconcerted that he actually grinned. "I
thought they had slipped through his fingers somewhere," he reflected. "He
said he was certain that he sent her across from Plymouth—such stuff! I
told him. I said, 'He left her somewhere between London and Basingstoke,
or my name's not Rankin Leigh.' But they always think they know best,
these blooming detectives! Well, it's a queer thing! Young Vanston must
have brought her here, yet I'll swear that he never went near the place
himself, and, what's more, I can swear that his brother didn't know where he
was, unless Denzil Vanston, Esq., is the most finished liar on the face of the
earth. Why, at that very time, he was paying the police a pretty penny to
find the ticket-of-leaver—or his corpse! Humph! Well, I thought I had only
a woman to deal with, but if the two Vanstons are in it the difficulties will
be greater than I had foreseen. What did become of the other one, after all?
Well, there may be some information to be got up at the hotel yonder, that's
one thing."
He hurried back to the second-rate inn where he had put up, and, in the
course of an hour or two, had found out something of some importance. The
Squire had just gone abroad—very unexpectedly. It was even known at the
post-office that he had had a cable from Siberia. This was good news. Leigh
determined upon his plan of action. He would ask humbly, but with
firmness, so as to imply that he could enforce obedience if he chose—he
would ask that his niece be allowed to come and stay with him in his flat in
London, to show that all was right between them. He would speculate; he
would hire a furnished flat in a good position for a month, no matter at what
cost. And he would take the girl about—give her clothes and a few jewels;
take her to the theater and to race-meetings—he believed that the men to
whom he could introduce her would do the rest.
For all the latter part of his life, the man had been a hanger-on at stage
doors, a theatrical agent, a go-between of the profession. He believed all
women to be like those with whom he was in daily contact—greedy,
grasping, pleasure-loving, non-moral. To him, the life he found Rona living
—going to church with a maiden lady—was a life from which any
handsome young girl would escape, if she could.
If she once found that her beauty would bring to her—and incidentally
to him—diamonds, motors, life on the champagne standard, he literally
could not conceive that she could hesitate. What was the good of having a
girl like that in your power if you could not make her keep you? He was
determined to have an old age of comfort, as a result of the earnings of
Rona. He knew all the ropes. He knew all there was to know about the
"Profession." He knew that, given material of the quality of that girl,
success, with the right steps taken, the right course adopted, was quite
certain.
He sat smoking, and thinking it over, with his whisky on the table
beside him. He considered what, or how much, he could or should tell Rona
of what he suspected of her parentage. He was himself the son of a solicitor,
and had received a good education. But there was a bad strain in the blood.
Both he and his brother had gone to the bad, and his brother had died
young, leaving an orphan girl, whose early associations were those of a life
of discreditable shifts, but who had developed the backbone lacking in her
father and uncle, had insisted upon qualifying to teach, and when her
education was complete, had obtained a post as governess in the family of
Mauleverer, a well-known old house of the Roman faith in the North of
England. But it seemed as if this girl, too, were infected by the obliquity of
the family morals, for, after a time, she disappeared from her uncle's view,
his letters being returned to him marked "Gone away. Address unknown."
One day he received a letter with a London postmark, written at her
dictation. It said that she was married, that she had just become a mother,
that she was dying. The letter, which bore no address, was only to be posted
in case of her actual death, and then not until after a month had elapsed. She
did not reveal the name of her husband, but said that her tiny daughter was
to be brought up in a certain convent—the address of which she gave him—
under the name of Leigh. She begged him to inquire from time to time of
the child's health.
Her uncle and she had never been in sympathy. Evidently she had
nobody else at all to whom she could appeal for her baby's sake to take
some interest in her. She had always been a good and very quiet, steady girl,
yet her uncle found it a little hard to believe in the story of her marriage.
There was a young man at Vane Abbey—John Mauleverer, the eldest

son. But he was a shy, retiring, delicate youth, by no means the kind of man
whom one suspects of making love to the governess. Rankin Leigh had
made a few inquiries at the time, but had learnt nothing to confirm such a
suspicion.
Other young men had come and gone, visitors at the Abbey; and as all
these were Roman Catholics, the fact of the baby's being sent to a convent
was not of much significance. Young Mauleverer married, a wife of his own
rank, not long after the death of Veronica's mother. If he were the man, this
gave some color to the dead girl's solemn assertion that she had been
actually married. The fact that the supplies for Veronica's maintenance
stopped upon John Mauleverer's death made Rankin Leigh morally certain
that he was, after all, the father. He left a family of several children. Had
Veronica been a boy, it would have been worth her uncle's while to incur the
expense and trouble of hunting up evidence, and establishing her claims on
the property. But since she was a girl, and her father had sons, he did not
care to follow up the clew. And when, summoned to the convent by a letter
from the solicitors explaining that the supplies had ceased, he saw his niece,
he felt that she would be a more lucrative and less risky source of income
than the levying of blackmail.
But what he had not cared to set on foot, he had little doubt that the
Vanstons might be willing to undertake, if he told them the truth. Should
he? He was still meditating on the subject, when the waiter looked in.
"Mr. Leigh! Gentleman of the name of Burnett to see you, sir."
"Burnett! Well, that's a coincidence! Burnett, by all that's wonderful!

The very man!"
Burnett, the detective, came in with a twinkle. He sat down, and when
he had refreshed himself at his host's invitation, he produced a letter from
his pocket. "You're wanted, Leigh, seemin'ly," he remarked, with humor.
"I'm wanted, am I?" said Rankin, with a stare. "And who wants me?"
"No less a person than Squire Vanston, of Normansgrave, has written to

me to trace you out."
"Well, I'm——" remarked Leigh, in amazement.
"Here's the letter, if you don't believe me. Got it yesterday. So I've come
to ask—do you want to be traced or don't you?"
"No need, my dear friend," said Leigh, in an off-hand way. "I introduced
myself this morning to Mr. Vanston's aunt, and to my own niece, who has
lived with them ever since I had the pleasure of putting you on her track. If
ever there was a confounded fool, it is you, Burnett, if you'll give me leave
to pass the remark. I'm dining there Tuesday," he added, with nonchalance.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE ESCAPE OF AUNT BEE

I should have cleaved to her who did not dwell
In splendor, was not hostess unto kings,
But lived contented among simple things,
And had a heart, and loved me long and well.
—WILLIAM WATSON.
The victoria fled swiftly along the pretty country road for some
moments without either occupant saying a word. Rona sat as if the falling
of the long-expected blow had stunned her. Aunt Bee, watching her set lips
and tragic eyes, felt vaguely alarmed.
"Rona," she said, in low tones, almost a whisper, "had you any sort of
idea that he was in the neighborhood—before we set out for church?"
The girl hesitated. At last—"I thought I saw him," she said, reluctantly,
"at the station the other day, when we went to see Denzil off. A race train
came in from Virginia Water, and I turned, glancing idly along the carriage
windows, and felt almost sure that I saw his face. I had the idea that he had
suddenly risen from his seat, and was looking at me. But at that moment the
train moved, and I—I could not be sure. But he must have been sure, and he
must have spent all these days searching the neighborhood for me. It was a
clever idea to go to church, wasn't it?"
Aunt Bee remained silent for a swift moment or two. Then she turned
suddenly, stooping, her lips close to the girl's ear. "Rona—how long shall
you take to pack?"
The girl started, a light came into her eyes and color into her cheeks.
"For how long?" she rejoined, with bated breath.
"For a journey,—one hardly knows how long. One trunk, a hat-box, a

hand-bag."
"Two hours, if there is time. Twenty minutes if there isn't."
"Good girl. I expect we can have our two hours. But I must study a
time-table. I see nothing for it but flight, and before he can suspect us of
anything of the sort. I cannot deal with him in Denzil's absence."
"No," said Rona, her eyes glowing. "You are simply splendid! Oh, what
a relief! I have been so sick with fear. I am not a coward, really, but my
nerves cannot bear the sight of him. If you could know the things he recalls!
I feel like a thrashed slave when you show her the whip."
Miss Rawson caught her hand and held it tight. "Courage, darling! You
know Denzil does not think he can really do much. Of course, it depends a
great deal upon the exact terms of your father's will. But even if he is
legally your guardian, I don't think he can actually force you to live with
him. If he is not, Denzil says we can snap our fingers. But, for all that, I
dare not tackle him alone. We must be off, and at once. And nobody must
know, not even the servants, that we are going beyond London. I have about
fifteen pounds in the house here, and I will write to my bankers, with a
check, instructing them to cable out more money to me to Paris, or
Brussels, or wherever it is we start from—I'll look out the route."
"Where are we going?"
"To St. Petersburg, I think—don't you?"

Rona gasped. She repeated the words mechanically. "To St. Petersburg!
Oh, Aunt Bee!"
"It seems to me the safest course. The man looked to me as if he were

prepared to be very disagreeable. If we simply go to Paris, he might follow
us. But I should judge that the state of his exchequer would render Russia
quite out of the question——"
"Oh, how wonderful you are! But we shall want a passport for Russia,
shall we not?"
"I could get that anywhere where there is an English Embassy. Let me
see, we had better take Gorham, I think."
Gorham was Miss Rawson's maid, a middle-aged, superior woman,

attached to her mistress, and fond of Rona. "We will not tell anyone our
destination until we are safely off," went on Miss Rawson; "Gorham must
be told that we shall be away for a month, at least, but the servants here
must be left under the impression that we return without fail on Tuesday
evening. I will even order the dinner for that night before I go, and tell cook
that I expect a gentleman to dine with us. Then if he does hear that we are
away, and makes inquiries, his suspicions will be lulled."
Upon consulting the time-table, they found that all Was easy. By driving
to Weybridge they could catch a 5.56 train, reaching Waterloo at 6.49, in
plenty of time to dine comfortably and catch the 9 p.m. boat train, by which
means they would arrive in Paris at five o'clock next morning.
Miss Rawson had a cousin—one Mrs. Townsend, known in the family

as Cousin Sophy—who lived in Kensington and was in feeble health. Aunt
Bee unblushingly told her household that she had news that this good lady
was suddenly taken worse, and that she must go at once. As she did not like
to leave Miss Rona at home alone, she should take her; and as they must put
up at an hotel, she should also take Gorham. As they should probably stay
only a night, or perhaps two, she wished nothing said in the village of their
absence; and, as the Squire was known to dislike Sunday traveling, she
wished Jones to drive the luggage cart out by the back way and go along the
lane, and not by the high road, that the village might not be scandalized.
"I don't think," said the newly fledged conspirator, "that he will suspect
us of bolting, after my asking him to dinner like that. Was it not a good
thought of mine to say we were engaged to-day and Monday? Conspiracy
comes terribly easy when once one tries it! Cheer up, darling, we shall get
off with no trouble at all. And on Tuesday afternoon I will dispatch a
telegram to him, saying that I am sorry to have been suddenly called away.
Mercifully, I have a balance of several hundred pounds in the bank just
now, which I have been saving up to buy furniture with when Denzil and
you turn me out! We shall do admirably."
Rona flung her arms about her neck. "I think it is too much," she said, in
a choked voice. "Let me go—let me disappear! Why should you lavish
money, time, health, on me? Who am I? Nobody knows. And I have done
nothing but harm. I have made them both unhappy. Give me ten pounds and
let me go away and hide, and earn my own living—ah, let me!"
Her mouth was stopped with a kiss, and an injunction not to be a little
fool. "I enjoy it," said Aunt Bee, with an air of evident sincerity. "I never
got a chance to do a desperate thing like this before. Who would think of
staid old Miss Rawson, the mainstay of the Girls' Friendly Society and the
Clothing Club, telling tarradiddles to her servants, and rushing off across
Europe, in defense of a helpless beauty with villains in pursuit! I feel as if I
were in a book by Stanley Weyman!"
In fact, her capacity and energy carried all before them, and triumphed
even over Gorham's consternation when, upon arriving in London, she
found that, so far from having reached their goal, they were but at the
starting-point of their journey.
The obtaining of their passport and waiting for their money delayed
them in Paris for four-and-twenty hours. But they felt fairly safe, and made
up their minds not to worry. They arrived at St. Petersburg absolutely
without adventure, and found themselves in a spacious, well-appointed
hotel, where English was spoken, and in a capital which did not seem to
differ much from other foreign capitals, except in the totally unknown
character of the language, and a curious Oriental feeling which seemed to
hover in the air rather than to express itself in any form of which me could
take note.
Miss Rawson was much inclined to plume herself upon her successful
disappearance. They had written to Denzil to inform him of the step they
had taken, and why. On reaching St. Petersburg, they telegraphed to him
their arrival and address. If all had gone well with his journey, he should
have been almost a week at Savlinsky by now, and might have important
news for them.
A telegram arrived the following morning. "No news Felix. Please await
letter—Denzil."
That was all. They could not tell, from its necessary brevity, whether he
was displeased at their daring dash or no. But there was nothing for it but to
stay on in their hotel for a week or two, until the arrival of the letter alluded
to.
And in truth there was plenty to see, plenty to interest them. It

disappointed Rona that the ice and snow which she had associated with the
idea of Russia were absent—that the weather was fine, and, if anything, too
hot to be comfortable. But this enabled them to go about and to enjoy the
sights of the place.
And then their first misfortune suddenly befell them. Miss Rawson, in
stepping out of a droshky, wrenched the knee which had been troubling her
that summer, displacing the bone in its socket, and tearing and bruising the
ligaments, so as to produce acute inflammation.
It was the kind of accident which happens one hardly knows how or
why. One may get out of a cab every morning for five-and-twenty years,
and the following day injure oneself seriously in so doing. The doctor called
in—an English doctor was at once forthcoming—thought very gravely of it.
It was a far worse matter than a simple fracture, he said. Absolute rest was
the only thing possible. He used every effort to reduce the inflammation.
But the pain was so great and so continuous that the patient could not obtain
any sleep; and the day after the accident she was so ill that Rona was very
anxious about her.
That same day came a letter from Denzil. He said he was very glad to
hear that they had come out, though he could hardly have advised so
extreme a course had he known it to be in contemplation. As they were
there, he hoped they were fairly comfortable, and would not mind staying
on until he had some idea as to what was best to be done. He said that the
place where he was was far from civilization, and though the Russian,
Vronsky, did all he could for his comfort, he found himself very unwell, as
a result, he supposed, of his long journey, or the difference in climate, or
way of living, or anxiety. There was no news of Felix. He related the
circumstances of his disappearance, and of the pursuit of Cravatz. He said
that Vronsky was far from hopeless, for the Governor suggested that Felix
was perhaps keeping out of harm's way until he heard that the Nihilist was
laid by the heels. He himself could not but think that had Felix intended to
go into hiding, he would have informed Vronsky, and not left him to fret
and distress himself. Vronsky's devotion to his brother was touching. He
meant to leave him everything of which he died possessed. He was in a
large way of business. He had confided to Denzil that he believed Nadia
Stepanovna, the Governor's daughter, was interested in Felix——
("Dear me, what a good way out of our difficulty that would be!" sighed
Aunt Bee.)
They had every hope of hearing of the arrest of Cravatz in a few days.
The police had been put on his track by a wandering Kirgiz. ("What on
earth is a Kirgiz?" said Aunt Bee.) When his arrest was a known fact, they
might hope to ascertain where Felix was, unless he had been the victim of
foul play. But an exhaustive search all along the route between Nicolashof
and the mines had resulted in no discovery; and his attached servant, Max,
was missing also. He concluded by remarking how fortunate it was that,
owing to the proximity of the Governor's summer residence, they had a line
of telegraph in so remote a spot. He recounted his own journey there, and
added that he would write more, but that he felt increasingly unwell, and
was afraid he should have to go and lie down.
It was a disquieting letter. They did not like to think of Denzil being ill,
so far from them, or from a doctor, or from any friends. He could not speak
a word of Russian; and though Vronsky had improved in his English under
the tuition of Felix, he had had of late little use for that tongue, and it had
grown rusty.
Aunt Bee almost forgot her pain in discussing the hard case in which
Denzil must find himself. They talked of little else all day.
Next morning, when poor Miss Rawson awoke from the only nap she
had been able to snatch during a night of agony, it was to hear that another
telegram had arrived.
"Vanston very ill, wishes you to come.—Vronsky."
Miss Rawson buried her face in the pillow and sobbed. What was to be
done? It was an impossibility for her to think of traveling. Yet the idea of
Denzil alone and ill in that awful place was torment to her. Rona made up
her mind.
If she could not offer to the man who loved her the devotion which he
craved, she could at least offer service. She remembered his extreme
kindness when she, the frightened, penniless little fugitive, had lain ill at the
Cottage Hospital.
The least she could do would be to hasten to him, ill as he was, and
lonely among aliens.
"I shall go, Aunt Bee," she said, quietly. "It is of no use your trying to
stop me. I can manage quite well. I have Denzil's letter here, giving a full
account of his journey. I have only got to get into the right train at Moscow,
get out of it at Gretz, and hire a carriage to take me on. You have Gorham
here to stay with you, and I shall be all right, I have plenty of common
sense."
"Rona, it is impossible—impossible, and you know it! A girl of your

age and appearance to go a drive of five hundred miles, alone, with these
savages—what would Denzil say?"
"Denzil will not know until it is over," was the quiet answer. "Now,
dear, it is of no use to fuss. What have the two Vanstons done for me? What
have I ever done in return? Here is a thing I can do. Why, women do such
things every day. I know a girl who went back to her husband from England
to Japan, right along this trans-Siberian line, by herself. You must not
hinder me, for I am going, dearest."
It was in vain to argue with her. Her mind was quite made up. She went
out to Cook's Office, took her ticket, made her passport arrangements, and
came back triumphant to pack her trunks. The doctor, when called into
consultation, thought the plan a little daring, but by no means beyond the
bounds of possibility. He had, as it chanced, a patient, a lady who lived
farther along the line, and who was, by a fortunate coincidence, going that
way, so that she could travel with Rona as far as Gretz. "As for the drive,"
he said, "it is a main road almost all the way; there are posting-stations and
good horses. I think the drivers are an honest set of men; and I do not see
why she should not be safe."
In short, the girl's determination carried the day. "Do not let us think of
Mrs. Grundy," said she; "let us only think that Denzil is ill, and wants me.
He has every right to have me, if I can get to him by any means in my
power."
CHAPTER XXIV
VERONICA "ON HER OWN"

And so I look upon your face again.
What have the years done for me since we met?
Which has prevailed, the joy of life or pain?
Do you recall our parting, or forget?
Show me your face. No! Turn it from my sight!

It is a mask. I would lay bare your heart.
You will not show me that? I have no right
To read it? ... Then I know my doom. We part.
Words for a Song.
In after days, when Veronica looked back upon that journey, it seemed
to her as if it had lasted for months.
As its slow hours crept by, she grew to have a feeling that she had been
traveling ever since she could remember, and must go on traveling till she
died. The train moved on, and on, and on, like a thing which, once started,
can never stop again. After the first twelve hours she had a bad attack of
train sickness, an ailment from which she had never before suffered; and
she lay sleepless during the night hours, with aching head and parched
mouth, tossing about on her berth, and with her mind unable to detach
itself, even for a moment, from a thought so dreadful that never, till faced
by this dreary solitude, had she dared to put it into words.
She knew, she had known, ever since their interview in the rock garden,
that she no more loved Denzil than she loved his absent brother. She did not
love him, and she vehemently desired not to marry him. Yet, somehow or
other, she had caused him to believe that she returned his affection. She
was, practically, engaged to him. She had deceived both brothers, and it
seemed to her that, search as deeply as might be into her own heart, she had
not done so wittingly.
The case simply was that her heart had never been aroused. Her hour
had not come. She did not know love. Each of these two young men had
wanted of her something which she had not to bestow. To each she had
offered in return something else. There was, however, one notable
distinction between the two affairs. Felix had excited her best feelings. She
had felt for him pity, sympathy, the instinctive womanly desire to comfort
and sympathize with the lonely, the unfortunate. Denzil, on the other hand,
had stood in her imagination for home, peace, safety, well-being. It had
been her selfishness which had responded to his call. He could give her an
assured position, and life in the surroundings which she loved. Felix was
the asker, Denzil the bestower. To marry Felix demanded sacrifice; to marry
Denzil was to accept benefits at his hands.
But, if she considered which of the two had the more claim upon her
allegiance, she found herself bewildered, divided. Felix had saved her life,
but Denzil had preserved it. As she envisaged the situation, she felt that the
die was cast. Her letter to Felix had bound her to Denzil. She wondered,
over and over to herself, whether Felix had received that letter, and what he
had felt upon reading it. Here, in her isolated loneliness, far from Aunt Bee,
far from Denzil, she began to have an inkling as to what letters would mean
to the exile, and to realize what Felix might have experienced, upon seeing
her writing, snatching open the envelope, and reading the complete
extinction of her own feeling for himself....
Was his present disappearance—could it be—the result of her cruelty?

Had it made him reckless?
Such thoughts poisoned the weary hours of the endless night. And
through them all beat upon her brain the knowledge that Denzil was ill, so
ill that he had wired for them to come to him. He would not have taken so
extreme a course, had his sickness not been serious—had he not been in
danger.
What should she do, if after the bitter strain of her long journey, she
found him dead when she arrived at Savlinsky?
She pictured herself alone, in the mining village, with no woman near,
with nobody but Vronsky, the Russian! Was it, after all, mad of her to
undertake such a journey?
She was thankful to rise from her sleepless couch, and shake off the
wild dreams which visited her with every moment of unconsciousness. The
varying country, the dim Ural Mountains, into the heart of which they
ascended, the increasingly strange garb of the people, left hardly any
impression upon her usually active mind. But during the day she rallied
from her misgivings of the previous night, and girded at herself for a
coward.
There was nothing to take off her mind from its treadmill of
apprehensions. The lady who was her fellow-traveler spoke English, but
was very dull, and most likely herself thought the girl unresponsive. It had
proved impossible to get English books for the journey, and she was
without refuge from the harassing thoughts which yelped about her like
snapping wolves.
As the train bore her along the endless road, as day faded into night and
morning dawned again along the illimitable plain, and sun shone and wind
blew and clouds drifted, and meal-times came and passed like telegraph
posts, the thought of her treachery—her double treachery—was ever in her
mind, aching, desolating.
Her fellow-traveler's encouraging assurance that they would be at Gretz

in an hour or two was an untold relief. At Gretz she hoped for tidings of
Denzil. She had telegraphed, before leaving St. Petersburg, that she was
starting, and asked to have news wired to Gretz. Her telegram, in its brevity,
said nothing of the fact that she was coming alone.
Of itself, the idea of escape from the noise and motion of the train was
something to be eagerly anticipated. To walk upon firm ground, to stand
still, to sit upon a chair—these were boons indeed.
But when the train had departed, bearing with it the one creature with
whom she was on speaking terms, and she stood upon the platform at the
station and looked around at the dull, dirty town and the wild-looking
people, she had a moment of sheer panic. How isolated she was! How the
days had rolled by, without her being able to hear, either from the beloved
aunt she had left, or the lover to whom she journeyed!
She shivered as she stood, for a heavy rainstorm had but just passed
over the town, and everything seemed dank and dripping.
She drew out her paper, upon which the doctor had written down for
her, "Drive me to the Moscow Hotel." "I want to stop at the post-office." "I
want a carriage and horses to go to Savlinsky," and various such necessary
formulæ.
It was only half-past ten o'clock in the morning, so she was determined,
if a carriage could be secured, to stay only for lunch at the hotel, and start
upon her journey at once. The friendly St. Petersburg doctor had seen that
she had a store of tinned food with her, but it was with a sharp pang that she
realized that however much she wished to supplement her stores she could
not do so, as she could not say one word of Russian.
She found herself the center of a gesticulating crowd of men, all

proffering unintelligible service, saying to her things which she could not
understand. She could not pronounce the words the doctor had written
down for her, though she had tried to learn. She had to show the written
paper to the barbarian crowd that surrounded her. Its purport was,
apparently, understood, for, with many gesticulations, and noises which she
hoped and believed were of a friendly nature, she found herself conducted
to a curious-looking vehicle in waiting outside; and, earnestly repeating
"Hotel, Post Office, Posting-house," she got in, and was driven through
such a slop of mud as she had never before encountered. Pausing presently,
she found they were at what looked like a stable doorway. Her driver made
signs for her to alight, and she concluded that he was explaining that he had
brought her first to the posting-house to give her order, as it was on the way.
She dismounted trembling, almost slipping in the filth, and, peeping
through the half-open gate, saw a dirty courtyard within, where one or two
ostlers were at work; and, facing her, across an incredible swamp of stable
refuse, the door of a house, which was presumably the place where she
must give her order. Gathering her skirts about her, she entered the
disgusting place, and stood wavering, glancing round in desperation, and
despising herself for her want of resource.
She saw that she had been imprudent in trusting herself, with no
knowledge of the language, in such regions. But she was in for this journey
now, and meant to win through to Denzil if she died in the attempt. She
must not be deterred by the smells nor the mire of the stable yard: and she
advanced with determination.
Just as she did so, two men came out from the door-way which she was
approaching, and stood upon the stone step in the full light of day. One was
presumably the Russian stable-keeper, a wild kind of person, but apparently
amiable. He was in eager converse with a tall man, very well dressed, who
held a cigar between his fingers.
The clouds were breaking, and a watery sun at this moment lit up the
squalid scene. It shone upon this unexpected figure, and it shone also upon
the far more surprising appearance of the English girl, in her dainty apparel,
picking her way through the muck.
The stranger's keen, alert gray eyes grew fixed, and for a moment he
stood, rigid and still as a stone, while his bronzed, finely-cut face turned
pale.
Rona stopped short. There was no recognition at first upon her face. But
something in the change which passed over his struck a wild conviction into
her mind.
It was the missing man—Felix Vanston.
* * * * * *
*
How changed! That was her first thought. The image in her memory of
a gaunt, pale, bearded youth, thin and stooping, faded and died away. This
was a Man, in the fullest sense of all that word can mean. It was fortunate
that his own recognition of her had been instantaneous. Even now she was
not sure, until he came towards her, through the rotting straw.
His color had not changed, while hers was now fading visibly from the
cheeks to which it had rushed in tumult. He was wholly self-possessed and
dignified, though his surprise must have been greater than hers. As he came
nearer she had a conviction, deep and certain. He had received and read her
letter. She could have declared that the lines of his mouth expressed a light,
scornful contempt.
Without a word said, she knew and felt herself condemned.
But, whatever the young man's feelings at the meeting, hers must be
predominantly those of relief. In spite of the violent shock which his
appearance gave her, she was conscious of almost frantic joy, at sight, in
that weird place, not merely of a compatriot, but of a friend.
"David!" she uttered at length, using in her confusion the name by

which she had always known him. "Then you are alive—you are safe, after
all."
He was quite close to her now. She felt dizzy, and as though she could
hardly bear such nearness. She thought, suddenly and irrelevantly, of the
way in which they had clung together, she and he, in the little arbor at
Normansgrave—clung each to each, and felt that to part was terrible.
... He was speaking. She must listen, must bear herself rationally. He
was holding her hand, lightly—for an instant—then he had dropped it, and
she heard his voice. That, too, was changed, with the subtle transmutation
which had passed over him.
"I am sorry," he said, "that my disappearance has apparently caused far

more anxiety and trouble than I could have anticipated." He hesitated, rather
as if he expected her to explain her miraculous appearance in Siberia. But
she could not have uttered a word. After a pause he went on—"Surely it
cannot be—on my account?—I mean, I am at a loss to explain your being
here."
She made a mighty effort then, and brought out a few gasping words.
"Denzil—he is at Savlinsky. He is very ill. I am on my way—to him."

He looked oddly enlightened. The lines of contempt, or indifference,
deepened about his almost too expressive mouth. "May I ask if my brother
has any idea of the—er—remarkable course you are pursuing?"
She assented eagerly. "He is expecting me. I—I must go on directly."

For a moment she wrestled with her feelings, then commanded herself.
"You don't know what it is to see you—to see the face of a friend," she
faltered. "I feel so lost, so bewildered. You will help me, will you not? I
want a tarantasse."
"No," he replied, "what you must have is a povosska—a thing with a

hood. I was just ordering one for myself. I, too, am going to Savlinsky—"
he paused, eying her doubtfully. She forestalled him.
"Then, for pity's sake, let me travel with you! I—I will try not to be
troublesome. I hope you don't mind, but it would be such a relief—I feel
much less courageous than I expected. I can't understand a single word, and
it makes me feel helpless."
Felix bowed. "At what time would you wish to start?" he asked.
"As soon as I have had some lunch. I am very hungry. Eating upon the
train made me feel ill."
"Let me put you into your carriage, and, if you will wait a minute for
me, I will give the order and escort you to the inn."
He piloted her through the dirt, seated her in her carriage with a few
words to the driver, whose manner at once became more respectful, and,
having returned to the stable-keeper, soon rejoined her, and in a few
minutes they were seated, side by side, clattering through black, gluey mud,
among swarms and swarms of excited people, who thronged the streets in
dense crowds.
"What quantities of people," she said wonderingly, glad to have

something upon which she could remark naturally. "I never knew that such
a place could be so thickly populated."
"Oh," he answered, with a certain frigid reluctance, "it is not always like
this. To-day is exceptional. These are sightseers."
"Indeed!" she replied, anxious only to avert silence, "what was the sight
they have come to see?"
There was a perceptible pause before he replied: "An execution."
She grew crimson, and flashed a look at him. He was staring in the
opposite direction. "Was it—was it Cravatz?" she asked, under her breath.
"It was." The words seemed to issue from a steel trap.
"Then you are free?" she breathed.
"And unattached," he responded, dryly.
She was silenced, and they drove on some little distance, until a thought
flashed into her mind.
"Oh," she said, "I was forgetting! Please ask him to drive to the post-
office. I must see if there is a message from Mr. Vronsky about Denzil."
Felix called an order to the driver, and then turned to her. "Do you really
tell me that my brother demanded of you that you should take this
formidable journey to him alone?"
"Oh, no, no! Please don't imagine that! He thought Miss Rawson would
come too. We were both at St. Petersburg, but Aunt Bee had an accident,
and hurt herself so seriously that she could not move. So I determined to
come alone. Mr. Vronsky's telegram was alarming."
"I congratulate you upon your devotion," remarked Felix, as the carriage
stopped at a wooden house. "My brother is a lucky man."
"He is a very good man," said the girl, nettled by the sneer. "Please ask
for the name of Rawson," she added, pettishly.
He soon came out, with a message. "Condition much improved."

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Chapter 19: The Invisible

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P LAC I N G A RT A N D A RT I ST I N H I STO R I C A L L E O NA R D O DA V I N C I, Drawing of Flowers and Dia-

"If you would kindly give me the address," he said.

"Normansgrave!" he repeated over and over to himself. "Why, that's the

There was a young man at Vane Abbey—John Mauleverer, the eldest

"Mr. Leigh! Gentleman of the name of Burnett to see you, sir."

"Burnett! Well, that's a coincidence! Burnett, by all that's wonderful!

"No less a person than Squire Vanston, of Normansgrave, has written to

"Well, I'm——" remarked Leigh, in amazement.

THE ESCAPE OF AUNT BEE

"For a journey,—one hardly knows how long. One trunk, a hat-box, a

"Two hours, if there is time. Twenty minutes if there isn't."

"Where are we going?"

"To St. Petersburg, I think—don't you?"

"It seems to me the safest course. The man looked to me as if he were

Gorham was Miss Rawson's maid, a middle-aged, superior woman,

Miss Rawson had a cousin—one Mrs. Townsend, known in the family

And in truth there was plenty to see, plenty to interest them. It

"Vanston very ill, wishes you to come.—Vronsky."

"Rona, it is impossible—impossible, and you know it! A girl of your

VERONICA "ON HER OWN"

Show me your face. No! Turn it from my sight!

Was his present disappearance—could it be—the result of her cruelty?

Her fellow-traveler's encouraging assurance that they would be at Gretz

She found herself the center of a gesticulating crowd of men, all

It was the missing man—Felix Vanston.

Without a word said, she knew and felt herself condemned.

"David!" she uttered at length, using in her confusion the name by

"I am sorry," he said, "that my disappearance has apparently caused far

"Denzil—he is at Savlinsky. He is very ill. I am on my way—to him."

She assented eagerly. "He is expecting me. I—I must go on directly."

"No," he replied, "what you must have is a povosska—a thing with a

"What quantities of people," she said wonderingly, glad to have

There was a perceptible pause before he replied: "An execution."

"It was." The words seemed to issue from a steel trap.

"Then you are free?" she breathed.

"And unattached," he responded, dryly.

He soon came out, with a message. "Condition much improved."

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