"That is well; but what shall it be?"
Sebastian began to breathe.
"Speak, Sebastian," said Murillo, looking at his slave. "Tell me what you wish for; I am so much pleased with your beautiful composition that I will grant any request you may make. Speak, then; do not be afraid."
"Oh, master, if I dared—" And Sebastian, clasping his hands, fell at the feet of his master.
With the view of encouraging him, each of the pupils suggested some favor for him to demand.
"Ask gold, Sebastian."
"Ask rich dresses, Sebastian."
"Ask to be received as a pupil, Sebastian."
A faint smile passed over the countenance of the slave at the last words, but he hung down his head and remained silent.
"Come, take courage," said Murillo, gayly.