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

NO one, master, no 0ne," replied
the trembling Sebastian, with eagerness.
"That is false" exclaimed Murillo.
No one but me, | swear you, mas
ter" cried the mulatto, throwing him
self on his knees in the middle of the
studio and holning out his little hands
in duplication before his master.
Listen to me-" pursued Murillo.
81 wish to know who has sketched this
head of the Virgin and all of the fig
ures which my pupils find every morn
ing here, on coming to the studio. This
night, in place of going to bed, you
shall keep watch, and if by tomorrow
you do not discover who the culprit is,
you shall have twenty-five strokes from
the lash. You hear-I have said il;
now go and grind the cClors, and you,
gentlemen, to work"
From the commencement till the ter
mination of the hour of instruction
Murillo was too much absorbed with his
pencil to allow VOID to be spoken but
what regarded their occupation, but the
moment he disappeared the pupils made
ample amends for this restraint, and as
the unknown painter occupied all their
thoughts the conversation naturally
turned to that subject.
" Beware, Sebastian, of the lash"
said Mendez, and watch for the cul-
prit; but give me the Naples yellow"
" You do not need it, Senior Mendez;
you have made it yellow enough al
ready; and as to the culprit, have al
ready told you that it is the Zombi."
/" Are these negroes fools or asses
with their Zombi?" said Gonzalo,
laughing. " Pray, what is a Zcmbi?"
"Oh, an imaginary being, OF course.
But take care, Senior Gonzalo," con-
tinued Sebastian, with a mischievous
glance at his easel, for it must be the
Zombi who has stretched the left arm
of your st. John to such length that,
if the right resembles it, he will be
able to unite his shoe-strings without
STOPPING"
" Do you know, gentlemen" said Is
turitz, as he glanced at the painting,
that the remarks of Sebastian are ex-
tremely just, and much to the point?n
oh, they say that negroes have the
face of an ape and the tongue of par
rot" rejoined Gonzalo, in tone of in
difference.
With this distinction" observed
Ferdinand, that the parrot repeats by
rote, while Sebastian has judgment in
his remarks"
Like the parrot, by chance" re-
turned Gorzalo.
"Who knows" said Mendez, who
had not digested the Naples yellow,
that from grinding the colors, he NAV
one day astonish us by showing he
knows one from another?"
"To know one color from another,
and to know how to use them are two
different things" replied Sebastian,
whom the liberty of the studio allowed
to join in the conversation of the pu-
pills, and the truth obliges us to confess
that Lis taste was so exquisite, his eye
so correct, that many of them did not
disdain to follow the advice he fire.
quently gave them respecting their
paintings. Although they sometimes
amused themselves by teasing the little
mulatto, he was great favorite with
them all, and this evening, on quitting
the studio, each gave him friendly tap
on the shoulder, counseled him TO keep
strict watch and catch the Zombi for
fear of the lash.
CHAPTER II.
1t was night, and the studio of Muir
lilo, the most celebrated painter in Sc
ville-this studio, which during the day
was so cheerful and animated-was now
silent as the grave. A single lamp
burned upon the marble table, and a
young boy, whose sable hue harmonized
with the surrounding darkness, but
whose eyes sparkled like diamonds at
midnight, leaned against an easel. I'M
movable and still, he was so deeply alb
sorbed in his meditations that the door
of the studio was opened by one who
several times called him by name, and
who, on receiving no answer, APP
preached and touched him. Sebastian
raised his eyes, which rested on tall
and handsome negro.
Why do you come here, father?"
said he, in melancholy tone.
To keep you company, Sebastian"
There is no need, father; | can
watch alone"
But what if the Zombi should
Gomez"
" do not fear him." replied the boy
with pensive smile.
I" He may carry you away, NY son,
and then the poor negro Gomez will
have no one to console him in his
slavery"
"Oh, how sad-how dreadful it is to
be slave" exclaimed the boy, weep
ing bitterly.
at is the will of Cod" replied the
negro, with an air of resignation.
"God!" calculated Sebastian, as he
raised his eyes to the dome of the
studio, through which the stars gilt
tered. "God! l pray constantly TO
him, my father (and he will one day
listen to me), that we may no longer
be slaves. But 60 to bed, father, go,
go; and l shall go to mine there in that
corner, and l shall soon fall asleep.
Goodnight, father; goodnight"
" Are you really not afraid of the
Zombi, Sebastian"
"My father, that is a superstition of
our country. Father Eugenio has as
sured me that God does not permit
supernatural beings to appear on
earth"
"Why, then, when the pupils asked