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

one beautiful summer morning.
about the year 1880, several youths of
Seville approached the dwelling of
the celebrated painter Murillo, at which
they arrived nearly at the same time.
After the usu-l salutations, they en-
tered the studio. Mlrillo was not yet
there, and each of the pupils walked
quickly to his easel to examine if the
paint had dried, or, perhaps, to admire
his work of the previous evening.
Pray, gentlemen" exclaimed Istu-
ritz, angrily, (which of you remained
behind in the studio last night?''
What an absurd questionr' replied
Cordova. Don't you recollect that
we all came away together"
This is foolish jest, gentle men,"
answered Isturitz. Last evening |
cleaned my palette with the greatest
care, and now it is as dirty as if some
one had used it all night"
"LookW exclaimed Carlos. Here
is small figure in the corner of my
canvas, and it is not badly done. l
should like to know who it is that
amuses himself every morning with
sketching figures sometimes on my can
vas, sometimes on the walls. There
was one yesterday, on the easel, Ferdi-
nand."
Gentlemen" replied Isturitz, 81
protest."
You need not protest" replied Car
los, We all know you are not capable
of sketching such figure as that"
"And my pencils are quite wet,
said Gonzalo, in his turn. Truly,
strange things go on here during the
night"
"Doyou think, like the negro Gomez,
that it is the Zombi who comes and
plays all these tricks?n said Isturitz.
Truly" said Mendez, who had not
yet spoken, being absorbed i'll admira-
ton OF the various figures which were
sketched with the hand of master in
different parts of the studio, A." if the
Zombi of the negroes draws in this man
ner, he would make beautiful head of
the Virgin in my Descent from the
Crosse
With these words, Mendez, with a
careless air, approached his easel, when
an exclamation of establishment es-
capped him, and he gazed in mute sur
prise on his canvas, on which was
roughly sketched most beautiful head
of the Virgin; but the expression was
30 admirable, the lines so clear, the con-
tour so graceful, that, compared with
the figures by which it was encircled,
1t seemed as if some heavenly visitant
had descended among them.
"Ah, what is the matter?" said a
rough voice The pupils turned at the
sound, and all made a respectful obei-
sance to the great master.
Look, Senior Murillo; look" ex-
claimed the youths, as they pointed to
the easel of Mendez.
Who has painted ths-who has
painted this head, gentlemen?" asked
Mnrillo, eagerly. "Speak; tell me.
He who has sketched this Virgin will
one day be the master of us all. Murillo
wishes he had done it. What touch
What dolicacyl What skill Mendez,
my dear pupil, was it your"
No, Senor," replied Mendez, in
sorrowful tone.
Was it you, then, Isturilz or Ferdi-
nand or Carlos?'
But they all gave the same reply as
Mendoz.
" 1t could not, however, come here
without hands," said Murillo, impa-
tiently.
II think, sir" said Cordova, the
youngest of the pupils, that these
strange pictures are very alarming: in
deed this is not the first which has hap
pened in your studio. To tell the truth,
such wonderful things have happened
here, one scarcely knows what to be-
lieve."
Where are they?" asked Murillo,
still lost in admiration of the head of
the Nirnin hv ~ 1nlz ;at
According to your orders, Senor,"
answered Ferdinad, "we never leave
the studio without putting everything
in order, cleaning our pallettes, wash
ing our brushes and arranging our
easels; but when we return in the
morning not only is everything in con-
fusion, our brushes filled with paint,
our palettes dirtied, but here and there
are sketches beautiful sketches to be
sure they are), sometimes of the head
OF an angel, sometimes Of a demon,
then again the profile of a young girl,
or the figure of an old man, but ali ad-
mirable as you have seen yourself
Senor.n
"This is certainly a curious affair,
gentlemen" observed Murillo; but
we shall soon learn who is this nightly
visitant. Sebastian" he continued,
addressing little mulatto boy about
fourteen years old, who appeared at his
call, did not desire you to sleep here
every night?"
Yes, MASTER" said the boy with
timidity.
And have you done SOP"
Yes, master"
"Speak, then, who was here last
night and this morning before these
gentlemen Gamer Speak, slave, or l
shall make you acquainted with my
dungeon" said Mnrillo, angrily, to the