."

'Twas a little mean place with no furnishings but a broken bedstead, a
rickety chair, and an uncleanly old table on which were huddled
together a dry loaf, an empty bottle, and some poor daubs of pictures.
The painter himself was an elderly man with a blotched face, a bibulous
eye, and half unclothed, he having wrapped a dirty blanket about his
body to conceal decently his lack of nether garments.

"We come to look at your portrait of the Gloucestershire beauty," said
Tom.

"All want to look at it, my Lord," said the man, with a leer, half
servile, half cunning. "There came two young gentlemen of fashion
yesterday morning, and almost lost their wits at sight of it. Either
would have bought it, but both had had ill luck at basset for a week
and so could do no more than look, and go forth with their mouths
watering."

Tom grinned.

"You painters are all rogues who would bleed every gentleman you see,"
he said.

"We are poor fellows who find it hard to sell our wares," the artist
answered. "'Tis only such as the great Mr. Kneller who do not starve,
and lie abed because their shirts and breeches are in pawn. When a man
has a picture like to take the fancy of every young nobleman in town,
he may well ask its value."

"Let us see it," cried Tom. "To a gentleman it may seem a daub."

The man looked at him slyly.

"'Twould pay me to keep it hid here and exhibit it for a fee," he said.
"The gentlemen who were here yesterday will tell others, and they will
come and ask to look at it, and then--"

"Show it to us, sir," said Roxholm, breaking in suddenly in his deeper
voice and taking a step forward.

He had stood somewhat behind, not being at first in the mood to take
part in the conversation, having no liking for the situation. That a
young lady's portrait should be stolen from her, so to speak, and put
on sale by a drunken painter without her knowledge, annoyed him--and
the man's leering hint of its future exhibition roused his blood.

"Show it to us, sir," he said, and in his voice there was that
suggestion of command which is often in the voice of a man who has had
soldiers under him.

The but half-sober limner being addressed by him for the first time,
and for the first time looking at him directly, gave way to a slight
hiccoughing start and strove to stand more steady. 'Twas no gay
youthful rake who stood before him, but plainly a great gentleman, and
most amazing tall and stately. 'Twas not a boy come