Volume II Part 62 (1/2)
”One month! Ay, by the wand of Hermes, in one month, under my teaching, shalt thou have thy desire. I watched thy bargain with the dealer yonder, and have had pity on thy youth and misfortunes.”
”Humph--compa.s.sion! And the price?” again inquired Conrad, with an anxious yet somewhat dubious expression of tone.
”The price? Once every month shalt thou paint me a picture.”
”Is that all?”
”All.”
Now Conrad began to indulge some pleasant fancies. Dreams of hope and ambition hovered about him; but he soon grew gloomy and desponding as heretofore. He waxed incredulous.
”One month? Nothing less than a miracle! The time is too short.
Impossible!”
”That is my business. I have both the will and the power. Is it a bargain?”
Conrad again drained the cup, and things looked brighter. He felt invigorated. His courage came afresh, and he answered firmly--
”A bargain.”
”Give me thy hand.”
”O mein Herr--not so hard. Thy grip is like a smithy vice.”
”Beg pardon of thy tender extremities. To-morrow then, at this hour, we begin.” Immediately after which intimation the stranger departed.
Conrad returned to his own dwelling. He felt restless, uneasy.
Apprehensions of coming evil haunted him. Night was tenfold more appalling. Horrid visions kept him in continual alarm.
He arose feverish and unrefreshed. Yesterday's bargain did not appear so pleasant in his eyes; but fear gave way apace, and ere the appointed hour he was in his little workroom, where the mysterious instructor found him in anxious expectation. He drew the requisite materials from under his cloak, a well-primed canvas already prepared.
The pallet was covered, and Conrad sat down to obey his master's directions.
”What shall be our subject?” inquired the pupil.
”A head. Proceed.”
”A female?”
”Yes. But follow my instructions implicitly.”
Conrad chalked out the outline. It was feebly, incorrectly drawn: but the stranger took his crayon, and by a few spirited touches gave life, vigour, and expression to the whole. Conrad was in despair.
”Oh that it were in my power to have done this!” he cried, putting one hand on his brow, and looking at the picture as though he would have devoured it.
”Now for colour,” said the stranger; and he carefully directed his pupil how to lay in the ground, to mingle and contrast the different tints, in a manner so far superior to his former process, that Conrad soon began to feel a glow of enthusiasm. His fervour increased, the latent spark of genius was kindled. In short, the unknown seemed to have imbued him with some hitherto unfelt attributes--invested him either with new powers, or awakened his. .h.i.therto dormant faculties. As before, by a few touches, the crude, spiritless ma.s.s became living and breathing under the master's hand. Not many hours elapsed ere a pretty head, respectably executed, appeared on the canvas. Conrad was in high spirits.
He felt a new sense, a new faculty, as it were, created within him. He worked industriously. Every hour seemed to condense the labour and experience of years. He made prodigious advances. His master came daily at the same time, and at length his term of instruction drew to a close. The last morning of the month arrived; and Conrad, unknown to his neighbours, had attained to the highest rank in his profession.
His paintings, all executed under the immediate superintendence of the stranger, were splendid specimens of art.