The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1891-05-20

DelODg 10 my master, slave. Let me
at least be my own master for three
short hoursl To begin, these figures
must be effaced." And, selling brush,
he approached the Virgin, which, viewed
by the soft light of the morning dawn,
appeared more beautiful than ever.
"Efface this!" he exclaimed. "Ef-
face this No; will die frst Efface
this-they dare notl Neither dare
L. No-that head-she breathes--she
speaks-it seems as if her blood would
flow if | should Cffer to efface it, and
that should be her murderer. No,
no, no; rather let me finish it,"
Scarcely had he uttered these words
when, selling palette, he seated him
self at the easel, and was soon totally
absorbed in his occupation. Hour after
hour passed UNDECIDED by Sebastian,
who was too much engrossed by the
beautiful creation of his pencil, which
seemed bursting into life, to mark the
flight of time.
" Another touchl" he exclaimed.
a soft shade here; now the mouth.
Yes-there. 1t opens those eyes; they
pierce me throug What a forehead
What delicacyl Oh, my beautiful"
and Sebastian forgot the hour, forgot
he was slave, forgot his dreaded pun
ishment-all, all was obliterated from
the soul of the youthful artist, who
thought of nothing, saw nothing but
his beautiful picture.
But who can describe the horror and
CONSERVATION of the unhappy slave
when, on turning round, he beheld all
the pupils, with his master at their
head, standing beside him.
Sebastian never once dreamed of
justifying himself; and with his pal
cite in one hand and his brushes in the
other, he hung down his head, awaiting
in silence the punishment he believed
he justly merited. For some moments
dead silence prevailed; if Sebastian
was COMPOUNDED at being caught in the
com mission of so fragrant a crime, Muir
lilo and his pupils were no less as
tonished at the discovery they had
made.
Murillo, having with gesture of the
hand imposed silence on his pupils,
who could scarcely restrain themselves
from giving away TO their admiration,
approached Sebastian and, concealing
his emotion, said in cold severe tone,
while he looked alternately from the
beautiful head of the virgin to the ter
rified slave who stood like statue be-
fore him:
Who is your master, Sebastian"
You," replied the boy in voice
scarcely audible"
| mean your drawing master?n said
Murillo.
You, Senor," again replied the
trembling slave.
&c 1t can not be; l never gave you a
lesson said the astonished painter.
But you gave them to others, and |
listened to Them" rejoined the boy,
embroidered by the Kindness of his
master.
And you have done better than
listen; you have protited by them -
exclaimed Murillo, unable any longer
to conceal his admiration. Gentle
men, does this boy merit punishment
or reward?"
At the word punishment " Sebas-
tian's heart beat quick; the word " re-
ward gave him little courage, but
fearing that his ears deceived him, he
looked with timid and imploring eyes
toward his master.
" a reward, Senorl cried the pupils,
in breath.
"That is well; but what shall it be?''
Sebastian began to breathe.
Ten ducats, at least" said Mendez.
" Nineteen" cried Ferdinand.
"No!" said Gonzalo; ga beautiful
new dress for the next holiday"
"Speak, Sebastian" said Murillo,
looking at his slave, whom none of
these rewards seemed to move. care
these things not to your taste? Tell
me what you wish for. am so pleased
with your beautiful &C IMPOSITION that |
will grant any request you may make.
! Speak, then; do not be afraid"
"Oh, master, if dared" And Sc
bastian clasping his hands, fell at the
feet of his master.
1t was easy to read in the half-opened
lips of the boy and his sparkling eyes
some devouring thought which timidity
! prevented him from uttering.
With a view of encouraging him,
each of he pupils suggested some favor
for him 10 demand.
" Ask gold, Sebastian"
" Ask rich dresses, Sebastian"
"Ask to be received as pupil, Sc
bastian."
A faint smile passed over the counte-
nance of the slave at the last words,
but he hung down his head and re-
manned silent.
ASK for the best place in the studio"
sad Gonzalo, who, from being the last
come pupil, had the worst light for his
easel.
"Come, take courage" said Murillo,
gayly.
"The master is so kind, to-day" said
Ferdinand, half aloud, II would risk
something. Ask for your freedom, Sc
bastian."
AT these words Sebastian uttered a
cry Of anguish, and, raising his eyes to
his master, he exclaimed, in a voice
choked with sobs:
"The freedom of my father-the
freedom of my father"
And thine also," said Murillo, who,
no longer able to conceal his emotion,
threw his arms around Sebastian and
pressed him to his breast.
W L, Il.