pitied him, but I had spoken truth. His picture went no deeper
than the plaster.'

'Ah!' said Mr Springett, who had turned quite red. 'You was
talkin' so fast I didn't understand what you was drivin' at. I've
seen men - good workmen they was - try to do more than they
could do, and - and they couldn't compass it. They knowed it,
and it nigh broke their hearts like. You was in your right, o'
course, sir, to say what you thought o' his work; but if you'll
excuse me, was you in your duty?'

'I was wrong to say it,' Hal replied. 'God forgive me - I was
young! He was workman enough himself to know where he
failed. But it all came evens in the long run. By the same token,
did ye ever hear o' one Torrigiano - Torrisany we called him?'

'I can't say I ever did. Was he a Frenchy like?'

'No, a hectoring, hard-mouthed, long-sworded Italian
builder, as vain as a peacock and as strong as a bull, but, mark
you, a master workman. More than that - he could get his best
work out of the worst men.'

'Which it's a gift. I had a foreman-bricklayer like him once,'
said Mr Springett. 'He used to prod 'em in the back like with a
pointing-trowel, and they did wonders.'

I've seen our Torrisany lay a 'prentice down with one buffet
and raise him with another - to make a mason of him. I worked
under him at building a chapel in London - a chapel and a tomb