Francanzani was as good as his word. He supplied Salvator with all the drawing materials he required, and encouraged him to come to his house constantly. His sister Maria was very fond of him, and always gave him a hearty welcome.

It was well for the youth that he had such a refuge, for his father was growing more and more soured by misfortune. Finding that his son was resolved to follow his own inclinations, and also feeling that he knew not what to do with him, he ceased his opposition, though he gave him no encouragement, and constantly prophesied he would die a beggar. His mother would not reproach him, but she mourned secretly over the non-fulfilment of her vow, though comforted by Father Antonio's assurance that the Virgin would not be angry since it was no fault of hers.

The good father would not spare Salvator, however. He had heard all about his dismissal from the indignant principal, and did not

hesitate to give his former pupil a good scolding, which was meekly received because felt to be deserved. But perhaps the father was in his heart less angry than he seemed, for he said to one of his brother monks that he was not surprised at Salvator's kicking against logic, etc., as he had done. The fact was he felt himself born to be a painter; and it was his (Father Antonio's) opinion that he would make his way in the world and become famous.

Francanzani was amazed at the rapid strides made by his pupil. He used to encourage him to go out and sketch the scenes that most took his fancy, and on his return he pointed out defects and showed him what was good in them. He would never allow a slovenly or careless stroke to remain, but as to making Salvator an artist by the usual course of study and plodding, he saw it was both impossible and not necessary, for nature itself was his real tutor and inspired him as no other teachers

could do. Even his father stared with amazement one day when Francanzani showed him a drawing of his son's, and pointed out how much genius there was in every stroke.

"You will be proud of him yet," he said.

"He has talent no doubt," said Rosa; "but of what use is that unless a man becomes the fashion,"

The poor artist felt that he too had talent, but that it had not saved him from poverty!

Nearly two years were spent thus; Salvator living much more with his sister and brotherin-law than at home. From them he ever met the most generous kindness and encourage

ment.

Bravo, Salvator!" said Francanzani to him` on day, when he had just finished a really masterly drawing of the Bay of Naples in a storm. If you go on improving at this pace I shall grow jealous. The pupil is passing his master."

It was greatly to Francanzani's honour that

no tinge of jealousy crossed his mind, for he constantly prophesied to his wife that Salvator would become a far greater man than he should ever be, yet Francanzani was an artist of no ordinary talent, as after days proved.

HE time at length arrived when Salvator was to attain the long cherished desire of his heart, and

go forth to ramble far and wide wherever fancy led him, to study nature in her many and varied aspects. His love of grandeur and wildness inclined him towards the Abruzzo mountains, although warned that they were dangerous on account of the brigands which infested them.

Maria in particular implored him not to go there, for she had a horror of the lawless tribe whose rapacity and cruelty were so well known, though probably much exaggerated.

Salvator only laughed at her fears, but