"Who is it you've picked up, Bam?" said Mr. Horrock, aside.

"Ask him yourself," returned Mr. Bambridge. "He said he'd just turned

in from the road."

Mr. Horrock eyed the stranger, who was leaning back against his stick

with one hand, using his toothpick with the other, and looking about

him with a certain restlessness apparently under the silence imposed on

him by circumstances.

At length the "Supper at Emmaus" was brought forward, to Will's immense

relief, for he was getting so tired of the proceedings that he had

drawn back a little and leaned his shoulder against the wall just

behind the auctioneer. He now came forward again, and his eye caught

the conspicuous stranger, who, rather to his surprise, was staring at

him markedly. But Will was immediately appealed to by Mr. Trumbull.

"Yes, Mr. Ladislaw, yes; this interests you as a connoissure, I

think. It is some pleasure," the auctioneer went on with a rising

fervor, "to have a picture like this to show to a company of ladies and

gentlemen--a picture worth any sum to an individual whose means were on

a level with his judgment. It is a painting of the Italian school--by

the celebrated Guydo, the greatest painter in the world, the chief of

the Old Masters, as they are called--I take it, because they were up

to a thing or two beyond most of us--in possession of secrets now lost

to the bulk of mankind. Let me tell you, gentlemen, I have seen a

great many pictures by the Old Masters, and they are not all up to this

mark--some of them are darker than you might like and not family

subjects. But here is a Guydo--the frame alone is worth pounds--which

any lady might be proud to hang up--a suitable thing for what we call a

refectory in a charitable institution, if any gentleman of the

Corporation wished to show his munificence. Turn it a little, sir?

yes. Joseph, turn it a little towards Mr. Ladislaw--Mr. Ladislaw,

having been abroad, understands the merit of these things, you observe."

All eyes were for a moment turned towards Will, who said, coolly, "Five

pounds." The auctioneer burst out in deep remonstrance.

"Ah! Mr. Ladislaw! the frame alone is worth that. Ladies and

gentlemen, for the credit of the town! Suppose it should be discovered

hereafter that a gem of art has been amongst us in this town, and

nobody in Middlemarch awake to it. Five guineas--five seven-six--five

ten. Still, ladies, still! It is a gem, and 'Full many a gem,' as the

poet says, has been allowed to go at a nominal price because the public

knew no better, because it was offered in circles where there was--I

was going to say a low feeling, but no!--Six pounds--six guineas--a

Guydo of the first order going at six guineas--it is an insult to

religion, ladies; it touches us all as Christians, gentlemen, that a

subject like this should go at such a low figure--six pounds

ten--seven--"




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