his apparently subaltern position, was looked upon, at that epoch, as a
very important personage, by many of the Princes of the Church, who wrote
to him at Paris under a false name, making use of a cipher and other
customary precautions. After some moments passed in contemplation, before
the portrait of Sixtus V., Rodin returned slowly to the table, on which
lay the letter, which, by a sort of superstitious delay, he had deferred
opening, notwithstanding his extreme curiosity. As it still wanted some
minutes of half-past nine, Rodin, in order not to lose time, set about
making preparations for his frugal breakfast. He placed on the table, by
the side of an inkstand, furnished with pens, the slice of bread and the
radish; then seating himself on his stool, with the stove, as it were,
between his legs, he drew a horn-handled knife from his pocket, and
cutting alternately a morsel of bread and a morsel of radish, with a
sharp, well-worn blade, he began his temperate repast with a vigorous
appetite, keeping his eye fixed on the hand of his watch. When it reached
the momentous hour, he unsealed the envelope with a trembling hand.

It contained two letters. The first appeared to give him little
satisfaction; for, after some minutes, he shrugged his shoulders, struck
the table impatiently with the handle of his knife, disdainfully pushed
aside the letter with the back of his dirty hand, and perused the second
epistle, holding his bread in one hand, and with the other mechanically
dipping a slice of radish into the gray salt spilt on a corner of the
table. Suddenly, Rodin's hand remained motionless. As he progressed in
his reading, he appeared more and more interested, surprised, and struck.
Rising abruptly, he ran to the window, as if to assure himself, by a
second examination of the cipher, that he was not deceived. The news
announced to him in the letter seemed to be unexpected. No doubt, Rodin
found that he had deciphered correctly, for, letting fall his arms, not
in dejection, but with the stupor of a satisfaction as unforeseen as