At the end of an hour the soldier was asked to stand up and drink beer out of a jug, a function which he performed with very tolerable grace. He was then allowed to go home.
"But come here early to-morrow morning," said Baffin. "Do you think you'll like the work?"
"Work seems all right," responded Mr. Prince. "I'll come at nine o'clock."
He arrived at the time stated, having carefully attired himself in his Sunday "blacks," and a white turn-down collar. He had likewise operated with sand upon the metal parts of his shovel, so that that instrument glittered exceedingly. Also, he had perfumed his hair. And Baffin ordered him to go home again and reinvest himself with the habiliments of toil.
The spade we kept and improved upon in a corner of the doctor's little garden--a corner in which rare bulbs were buried. Clarence returned to us looking natural and dirty, and wearing a resigned expression.
Then he sat, or rather stood, in earnest, whilst Baffin "studied" him in pencil and charcoal and crayon, and in every other sort of pigment.
And when the artist had tired of this employment, Mr. Prince came down from his platform and studied the pictures with an air of cold reserve. He said that he thought he might as well be going. And he went.
The subsequent sittings were in all respects a repetition of the first. But at the end of the week, a strange thing happened. Mr. Clarence Gordon Prince permitted himself to give utterance to a remark. He had been paid his first week's wages--a sovereign, and, having spat upon this coin and donned his jacket, he tapped Mr. Baffin with his knuckle and performed the feat in question. "One day--me lad," he said, "I'll show ye _my_ pictures."
And on the last day of his engagement he duly fulfilled the promise. He had spat upon a sovereign and donned his jacket, just as before, and he had walked towards the door, but half-way there he stopped and faced his late employer.
"Look here," he said, as he quietly divested himself of his jacket and waistcoat, "look 'ere, ole man, you've acted very fair to me, and now I'm gointer show ye my pictures."
The wondering Baffin was then confronted with a naked chest--a chest of many colours. "The Duchess of Gainsborough," said Mr. Prince. "There's eight weeks' work in 'er. Done in Ceylon. I was soldiering in Ceylon. If you look round the corner you will see a picture of Eve bein' tempted by the serpent. On me right arm there's 'Erod's daughter, and on me left a photo of Jim Sayers. 'Ow's all this for picture work?