Ragna felt much flattered and regretted that her list of accomplishments did not include drawing.
"But," she said, turning to Angelescu, who had sat a silent spectator, "you can draw, I am sure, will you not make me a little sketch?"
Angelescu would be delighted; he went to his cabin and returned with sketch book and pencil, and without more ado began work. Ragna wished to look over his shoulder, but he would not hear of it.
"You must be patient till I have finished, Mademoiselle, I am not as accomplished a draughtsman as the Prince, and I could not do anything if you watched me."
Finally he produced a very pretty little sketch, representing the rail at the stern, with the slender figure of a girl silhouetted against it, one arm flung out in the act of scattering crumbs. The action was spirited, the whole thing suggested by a few clear decisive strokes of the pencil. Ragna was delighted with it and begged leave to inspect the Count's sketch book; he refused in an embarrassed way, and the Prince, seeing an occasion to tease his friend, made as if to snatch at the book crying—
"Fie, how can you refuse a lady. What have you drawn that is so very, very naughty that it can't be seen? Out with it!"
As he spoke, his hand touched the book, and in his haste to withdraw it, Angelescu seized the upper cover. The book opened and two loose leaves fluttered out and fell at Ragna's feet. She picked them up to return to him, glancing at them involuntarily as she did so, and her attention was arrested. The first sketch was a portrait of herself, idealized, but an excellent likeness; the other was the Prince, also an admirable likeness, but conveying an impression of evil—not conscious evil, however, rather the face of a faun through whose eyes looked out a laughing fiend. Ragna shivered unconsciously and turned to the Prince, in whose good humoured countenance she failed to detect the slightest expression similar to that in the drawing.
"So," said Mirko, "our dear Otto has been exercising his talents at our expense! very clever indeed. The sketch of Mademoiselle is charming, but, my dear fellow, what has induced you to lend my humble features to your conception of the Devil? You flatter me, you do indeed!"
Angelescu visibly annoyed, made answer,
"I am sorry, I did not wish Mademoiselle to see that I had taken the liberty of attempting her likeness without her permission, and I can only beg that she will accept the little sketch as a token that she bears me no ill will. As for the other, Your Highness, it was only an idle fancy of mine, and it is only by accident that it may seem to resemble you."