pon,--" he continued, touching up the spots where he had complained of
a lack of life, hiding under layers of color the conflicting methods,
and regaining the unity of tone essential to an ardent Egyptian.

"Now see, my little friend, it is only the last touches of the brush
that count for anything. Porbus put on a hundred; I have only put on
one or two. Nobody will thank us for what is underneath, remember
that!"

At last the demon paused; the old man turned to Porbus and Poussin,
who stood mute with admiration, and said to them,--

"It is not yet equal to my Beautiful Nut-girl; still, one can put
one's name to such a work. Yes, I will sign it," he added, rising to
fetch a mirror in which to look at what he had done. "Now let us go
and breakfast. Come, both of you, to my house. I have some smoked ham
and good wine. Hey! hey! in spite of the degenerate times we will talk
painting; we are strong ourselves. Here is a little man," he
continued, striking Nicolas Poussin on the shoulder, "who has the
faculty."

Observing the shabby cap of the youth, he pulled from his belt a
leathern purse from which he took two gold pieces and offered them to
him, saying,--

"I buy your drawing."

"Take them," said Porbus to Poussin, seeing that the latter trembled
and blushed with shame, for the young scholar had the pride of
poverty; "take them, he has the ransom of two kings in his pouch."