hope we shall find them in Madrid, one of them, Sophonisba,
at any rate."

"But there are only five boxes," observed the boy, "and you haven't
written Sophonisba on any of them."

"She is to have something better," replied his patron smiling. "My
portrait, which I began to paint yesterday, will be finished here. Hand
me the mirror, the maul-stick, and the colors."

The picture was a superb likeness, absolutely faultless. The pure brow
curved in lofty arches at the temples, the small eyes looked as clear and
bright as they did in the mirror, the firm mouth shaded by a thin
moustache, seemed as if it were just parting to utter a friendly word.
The close-shaven beard on the cheeks and chin rested closely upon the
white ruff, which seemed to have just come from under the laundresses'
smoothing-iron.

How rapidly and firmly the master guided his brush! And Sophonisba, whom
Moor distinguished by such a gift, how was he to imagine her? The other
five sisters too! For their sakes he first anticipated with pleasure the
arrival at Madrid.

In Bayonne the artist left the baggage-wagon behind. His luggage was put
on mules, and when the party of travellers started, it formed an imposing
caravan.

Ulrich expressed his surprise at such expenditure, and Moor answered
kindly: "Pellicanus says: 'Among fools one must be a fool.' We enter
Spain as the king's guests, and courtiers have weak eyes, and only notice
people who give themselves airs."

At Fuenterrabia, the first Spanish city they reached, the artist received
many honors, and a splendid troop of cavalry escorted him thence to
Madrid.

Moor came as a guest to King Philip's capital for the third time, and was
received there with all the tokens of respect usually paid only to great
noblemen.

His old quarters in the treasury of the Alcazar, the palace of the kings
of Castile, were again assigned to him. They consisted of a studio and
suite of apartments, which by the monarch's special command, had been
fitted up for him with royal magnificence.

Ulrich could not control his amazement. How poor and petty everything
that a short time before, at Castle Rappolstein, had awakened his wonder
and admiration now appeared.

During the first few days the artist's reception-room resembled a
bee-hive; for aristocratic men and women, civil and ecclesiastical
dignitaries passed in and out, pages and lackeys brought flowers, baskets
of fruits, and other gifts. Every one attached to