ordered his picture. I now claim it, and you must paint it, unless you wish to be considered as a man whose word is worthless. Moreover, you would not be in the King's palace but for me. Bear that in mind."
"You are quite right," replied Sanchez. "I shall have to risk my future. To be wanting to my pledged word to the King is to lose everything; but sit down, and I will take your portrait, even if I be disgraced in the King's eyes."
The stranger sat down, and Coello began to take his portrait. He was a man of fine physique, with a face full of intelligence and nobility. He watched Coello at his work with a singular curiosity, and manifested himself somewhat of a critic, as the artist gathered from the observations which involuntarily escaped him.
After six hours' assiduous work the portrait had progressed considerably, and would require but a short time more to finish it.
Sanchez threw himself in an armchair, and appointed an early hour the next day for his sitter to return, when he hoped to conclude the portrait.
It was the eve of the feast of St. Philip. Sanchez had concluded the portrait; but though he sat up the whole of that night at work, he was unable to finish the King's picture, and in the early morning, worn out by fatigue, he was still holding the palette and brush, when Philip entered his studio.
On perceiving that the picture was unfinished, the countenance of the King became clouded by displeasure.
"The King turned, and left the studio."
"You have been wanting to your word," he cried in a severe voice.
Sanchez hung his head without replying. The King glanced round, and his eyes fell on the portrait of the stranger.
"By St. Philip!" he exclaimed, "you have been amusing yourself by taking the portrait of a private individual, instead of working at my picture! Through your failure I am now unable to present the picture I commissioned you to paint, and the ceremony will have to be postponed. This is a serious business, Señor Coello!"
So speaking, the King turned, and left the studio, leaving the artist in the direst dismay.
Half an hour later Coello was summoned to present himself immediately before the King. He obeyed in terror.
"Señor Alonso Sanchez Coello," said the King, "you have been wanting to your pledged word; but, on the other hand, you have fulfilled a promise which you had formerly made to me."
The Spaniard looked at Philip in speechless surprise.
"Yes," continued the King, "the stranger whom you encountered on the night of your despair, and the King, are one and the same person; with the sole difference that I sent in my place, to have his portrait taken, Ottovenius, the most celebrated Professor of Antwerp. You may now conclude the painting of St. Philip at your convenience;
