on. _You_ too, I need hardly say,
have also formed a high opinion of the work, and must be very anxious
to know the great artist himself."

The old man was seized with a violent trembling; he shook as if he had
a shivering fit of the ague, and shot fiery wrathful looks at poor
Antonio. He however approached the old gentleman, and, bowing with
polished courtesy, assured him that he esteemed himself happy at
meeting in such an unexpected way with Signor Pasquale Capuzzi, whose
great learning in music as well as in painting was a theme for wonder
not only in Rome but throughout all Italy, and he concluded by
requesting the honour of his patronage.

This behaviour of Antonio, in pretending to meet the old gentleman for
the first time in his life, and in addressing him in such flattering
phrases, soon brought him round again. He forced his features into a
simpering smile, and, as Salvator now let his hands loose, gave his
moustache an elegant upward curl, at the same time stammering out a few
unintelligible words. Then, turning to Salvator, he requested payment
of the ten ducats for the spinet he had sold him.

"Oh! that trifling little matter we can settle afterwards, my good
sir," was Salvator's answer. "First have the goodness to look at this
sketch of a picture which I have drawn, and drink a glass of good
Syracuse whilst you do so." Salvator meanwhile placed his sketch on the
easel and moved up a chair for the old gentleman, and then, when he had
taken his seat, he presented him with a large and handsome wine-cup
full of good Syracuse--the little pearl-like bubbles rising gaily to
the top.

Signor Pasquale was very fond of a glass of good wine--when he had
nothing to pay for it; and now he ought to have been in an especially
happy frame of mind, for, besides nourishing his heart with the hope of
getting ten ducats for a rotten, worn-out spinet, he was sitting before
a splendid, boldly-designed picture, the rare beauty of which he was
quite capable of estimating at its full worth. And that he was in this
happy frame of mind he evidenced in divers way; he simpered most
charmingly; he half closed his little eyes; he assiduously stroked his
chin and moustache; and lisped time after time, "Splendid! delicious!"
but they did not know to which he was referring, the picture or the
wine.

When he had thus worked himself round into a quiet cheerful humour,
Salvator suddenly began--"They tell me, my dear sir, that you have a