e you to say to
me?"

Nietzel drew a paper from his breast pocket, and handed it to the count.
"See, your excellency, here is the sketch of the painting I am to make for
you."

"Truly, a precious sketch," said Schwarzenberg, examining the paper
attentively. "That looks like a Holy Supper."

"It is no Holy Supper, but a very unholy dinner."

"In the middle of the table I see sitting a man and a youth. The man wears
a crown upon his head and the youth wears a princely coronet."

"It is the Elector and the Electoral Prince," explained Gabriel Nietzel.

"Yes, indeed, the portraits are theirs. And beside them sits the
Electress, and beside her I see myself, and quite gorgeously have you
dressed me, with a princely ermined mantle about my shoulders and a
prince's diadem upon my brow. But what is that which I hold in my hand and
offer to the Electress?"

"It is a lachrymatory, your excellency."

"And yet the Electress smiles, Sir Painter."

"She takes the lachrymatory for a golden vase, which your excellency is
presenting to her as a present."

"You are witty, it seems, Master Gabriel," said the count sharply. "But
that your portraits are good must be admitted, and your sketch is
altogether charming. Only you have sketched for me there a joyous
festival, and, if I remember rightly, I ordered of you a picture which
should represent the death of Julius Caesar, or some such murderous
occasion. But I see no dagger and no murderer in this sketch."

"Only look at that man standing behind the Electoral Prince."

"Ah, I see him now. Why, master, that is your own likeness!"

"Yes, your excellency, my own likeness. You grant me your permission,
then, to appear at the feast?"

"Why not? Paul Veronese, too, has introduced his own portrait among those
of his banqueters. What is your image there handing to the Electoral
Prince in that basket?"

"A piece of white bread, most gracious sir, nothing more."

"Ah, a piece of white bread! You have become, it seems, the young
Electoral Prince's lackey, have laid your character as artist upon the
shelf, and become body page to the gracious Prince?"

"It seems so, most gracious sir," replied Nietzel with solemn voice. "But
see here, the truth lies on this page."

And he handed the count a second sheet of paper.

"What do I see? Something seems to have disturbed the banquet."

"Yes, your excellency, very greatly disturbed it. Do you still see the man
who stood behind the Elect