d fallen into the hands of a
private owner. Even now there is no certain list of
Strickland's paintings."

"When he grew blind he would sit hour after hour in those two
rooms that he had painted, looking at his works with sightless
eyes, and seeing, perhaps, more than he had ever seen in his
life before. Ata told me that he never complained of his
fate, he never lost courage. To the end his mind remained
serene and undisturbed. But he made her promise that when she
had buried him -- did I tell you that I dug his grave with my
own hands, for none of the natives would approach the infected
house, and we buried him, she and I, sewn up in three
<i pareos> joined together, under the mango-tree -- he made her
promise that she would set fire to the house and not leave it
till it was burned to the ground and not a stick remained."

I did not speak for a while, for I was thinking. Then I said:

"He remained the same to the end, then."

"Do you understand? I must tell you that I thought it my duty
to dissuade her."

"Even after what you have just said?"

"Yes; for I knew that here was a work of genius, and I did not
think we had the right to deprive the world of it. But Ata
would not listen to me. She had promised. I would not stay
to witness the barbarous deed, and it was only afterwards that
I heard what she had done. She poured paraffin on the dry
floors and on the pandanus-mats, and then she set fire. In a
little while nothing remained but smouldering embers, and a
great masterpiece existed no longer.

"I think Strickland knew it was a masterpiece. He had
achieved what he wanted. His life was complete. He had made
a world and saw that it was good. Then, in pride and
contempt, he destroyed it."

"But I must show you my picture," said Dr. Coutras, moving on.

"What happened to Ata and the child?"

"They went to the Marquesas. She had relations there. I have
heard that the boy works on one of Cameron's schooners.
They say he is very like his father in appearance."

At the door that led from the verandah to the doctor's
consulting-room, he paused and smiled.

"It is a fruit-piece. You would think it not a very suitable
picture for a doctor's consulting-room, but my wife will not
have it in the drawing-room. She says it is frankly obscene."

"A fruit-piece!" I exclaimed in surprise.

We entered the room, and my eyes fell at once on the picture.
I looked at it for a long time.

It was a pile