ould
be instant death, though its actual use is to vivify and strengthen
human life. You understand now why I said you were in danger?"

"I understand," I replied, though in sober truth I was mystified and
puzzled.

"And you forgive my seeming rudeness?"

"Oh, certainly! But you have aroused my curiosity. I should like to
know more about this strange medicine of yours."

"You shall know more if you wish," said Cellini, his usual equable
humour and good spirits now quite restored. "You shall know everything;
but not to-day. We have too little time. I have not yet commenced your
picture. And I forgot--you were thirsty, and I was, as you said,
inhospitable. You must permit me to repair my fault."

And with a courteous salute he left the room, to return almost
immediately with a tumbler full of some fragrant, golden-coloured
liquid, in which lumps of ice glittered refreshingly. A few loose
rose-leaves were scattered on the top of this dainty-looking beverage.

"You may enjoy this without fear," said he, smiling; "it will do you
good. It is an Eastern wine, unknown to trade, and therefore untampered
with. I see you are looking at the rose-leaves on the surface. That is
a Persian custom, and I think a pretty one. They float away from your
lips in the action of drinking, and therefore they are no obstacle."

I tasted the wine and found it delicious, soft and mellow as summer
moonlight. While I sipped it the big Newfoundland, who had stretched
himself in a couchant posture on the hearth-rug ever since Cellini had
first entered the room, rose and walked majestically to my side and
rubbed his head caressingly against the folds of my dress.

"Leo has made friends with you, I see," said Cellini. "You should take
that as a great compliment, for he is most particular in his choice of
acquaintance, and most steadfast when he has once made up his mind. He
has more decision of character than many a statesman."

"How is it we have never seen him before?" I inquired. "You never told
us you had such a splendid companion."

"I am not his master," replied the artist. "He only favours me with a
visit occasionally. He arrived from Paris last night, and came straight
here, sure of his welcome. He does not confide his plans to me, but I
suppose he will return to his home when he thinks it advisable. He
knows his own business best."

I laughed.

"What a clever dog! Does he journey on foot, or does he take the train?"

"I believe h