sort of hard rind
without, not entirely lacking in pride, and given to expressing himself
both sharply and scornfully about people. He worked for very small
results; that is to say, for just enough to support his family and
obtain the materials he needed; he never, under any circumstances,
refused to aid any one, or to lend a helping hand to a poor artist; and
he believed with the simple, reverent faith of his ancestors. At length,
by his unintermitting labour and perseverance in the path he had marked
out for himself, he began to win the approbation of those who honoured
his self-taught talent. They gave him constant orders for churches, and
he never lacked employment.

"One of his paintings possessed a strong interest for him. I no longer
recollect the exact subject: I only know that he needed to represent
the Spirit of Darkness in it. He pondered long what form to give him: he
wished to concentrate in his face all that weighs down and oppresses a
man. In the midst of his meditations there suddenly occurred to his
mind the image of the mysterious usurer; and he thought involuntarily,
'That's how I ought to paint the Devil!' Imagine his amazement when one
day, as he was at work in his studio, he heard a knock at the door, and
directly after there entered that same terrible usurer.

"'You are an artist?' he said to my father abruptly.

"'I am,' answered my father in surprise, waiting for what should come
next.

"'Good! Paint my portrait. I may possibly die soon. I have no children;
but I do not wish to die completely, I wish to live. Can you paint a
portrait that shall appear as though it were alive?'

"My father reflected, 'What could be better! he offers himself for the
Devil in my picture.' He promised. They agreed upon a time and price;
and the next day my father took palette and brushes and went to the
usurer's house. The lofty court-yard, dogs, iron doors and locks, arched
windows, coffers, draped with strange covers, and, last of all, the
remarkable owner himself, seated motionless before him, all produced
a strange impression on him. The windows seemed intentionally so
encumbered below that they admitted the light only from the top. 'Devil
take him, how well his face is lighted!' he said to himself, and began
to paint assiduously, as though afraid that the favourable light would
disappear. 'What power!' he repeated to himself. 'If I only accomplish
half a likeness of him, as he is now, it will surpass all