THE SIEGE.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 221, 23 October 1909, Page 3

THE SIEGE.

] He painted the Castle fruin the north, . from the south, from the east, from t'-ie west, and from points of the compass in between, lie painted the Castle in sunlight, in shadow, at dawn, and at sunset. Indoors, in the evenings, he painted the Castle under moonlight effects. It was spring when he began. He painted the trees which stood round about the Castle in their first bravery, and then in their summer exuberance. I It was winter when a lady arrived 'it the Castle. Snow carpeted the grounj, | powd led the walls, and hung upon tho' broken battlements like the tufted ey ■■ ' brows of an old man. The artist was

iat work as usual, panning the Castle in the snow, when the lady came out ti him, her cheeks glowing like a rose in the frosty air. "Ycm came, then," she said. "Vou gave me leave, you know," said the painter.

"Delighted," saiil the lady. "Hut, It tell you ilm truth, I never thought yo.i would come down here, ami live all alone—and work."

• - .\0," said the (winter. "1 rcineini).T that you said I »e- idle. Vol! said I was incapable of cuhlimuuii ivork." "Why, how long have you been here?'

"Since wo partnl," siiiit i\\: jmiiitor. "Sinci' April Y Kiuii months jiinl

three weeks." "1 am flattered that you should re member the date." said the painter. The lady put that remark behind her.

"And have you be; n sketching ra y Castle every day lor eight mouths 1"

•■|\.tlih|is," iinsH'cml the piiintcr, "1)»siii'ging it would be tile more accurale description of my employment. Besk' o '- 'ig—yes. . . "At present tliu Cnstlt!

i.olils out stoutly. Castles are diffltul things, you know. Hut one perseveres Every day. Nothing like continuous work."

The lady surveyed the canvas. "llaie you got your perspective quite right?" she hinted.

"Probably not," said the painter, humbly. "That's where the Castle has a great advantage. Its perspective ; s always right.- The architect must have been a man of genius. Now, I don't think I'm a genius. . You were quite right when you said I was not a genius." "I never did," returned the lady. "How could I, when I had never seen any of your work ?" "True," said the painter. "I had none you would have cared to see, at the moment." '

"I should like to see your sketches of my Castle very much," said the lady. "Would you like to see them one by one or all at once?" asked the painter. "Why, how many are there?" "Fifty-seven, including failures," said the painter.

"Well, supposing you leave out the failures?"

''That," said Hie painter, "would simplify the problem immensely, because there would be none left. I should prefer that way." '■' And how long will you go on making failures?" "That depends on the Castle," said the painter. ''The Castle?" 'The Castle is strong and beautiful and—and dillieult. a* I said." returned the painter. "Still, one perseveres. Every day. Nothing like it." The lady regarded the painter's illegible canvas in silence. "Come in and have some lunch," she said presently. "Thank you very much," said the painter. "Hut 1 dare not leave my "But it's freezing. Look at the ice giazmg the moat." "I know," said the painter, looki i« not at the ice but at tile lady. The next morning the moat was frozen black, and the painter took a fresh canvas and studied the reflections in the

I(M\ "Will you take a new canvas when the frost breaks?" iw kwl the ladv.

'That depends," said the painter. Every day she came and talked with him. "If you had been poor you would have been a great artist bv' virtue of your obstinate perseverance," she told him. "if I had been poor," said the painter, I should never have been what Ton are pleased to tall an artist at all. U wouid have been too expulsive. As it is, I can afiord to —persevere. Continuously. Every day. Nothing like, it." "■ion are unkind,'' said the lady, "perpetually to remind me that I was once ■-hasty." The painter looked up at the sky "Do you know," he said, "1 believe f'io thaw is coining at last." Next morning tlie ice in the moat was split and submerged, and the reflection of lire strong walls was all waveri:i» and broken. The painter came to t'h" Caslle entrance in the grey of a westerly wind, and stood at the edg o of the moat. Presently the lady appeared beneath the portcullis. "May I come in!" asked the painter. 'the drawbridge is down," said the lady. 'Then the siege is up," said the painter. And standing beneath the portcullis he kissed her on both cheeks.— ; Copeland, in St. James' Budget.