The Blue Moon | Page 9

faint
light showing through the window. So he came and thrust his finger
softly through one of the panes, and put his eye to the hole.
There inside was a candle burning on a stand, and Tiki-pu squatting
with paint-pots and brush in front of Wio-Wani's last masterpiece.
"What fine piece of burglary is this?" thought he; "what serpent have I
been harbouring in my bosom? Is this beast of a grub of a boy thinking
to make himself a painter and cut me out of my reputation and
prosperity?" For even at that distance he could perceive plainly that the
work of this boy went head and shoulders beyond his, or that of any
painter then living.
Presently Wio-wani opened his door and came down the path, as was
his habit now each night, to call Tiki-pu to his lesson. He advanced to
the front of his picture and beckoned for Tiki-pu to come in with him;
and Tiki-pu's master grew clammy at the knees as he beheld Tiki-pu
catch hold of Wio-wani's hand and jump into the picture, and skip up
the green path by Wio-wani's side, and in through the little door that

Wio-wani had painted so beautifully in the end wall of his palace!
For a time Tiki-pu's master stood glued to the spot with grief and horror.
"Oh, you deadly little underling! Oh, you poisonous little caretaker,
you parasite, you vampire, you fly in amber!" cried he, "is that where
you get your training? Is it there that you dare to go trespassing; into a
picture that I purchased for my own pleasure and profit, and not at all
for yours? Very soon we will see whom it really belongs to!"
He ripped out the paper of the largest window-pane and pushed his way
through into the studio. Then in great haste he took up paint-pot and
brush, and sacrilegiously set himself to work upon Wio-wani's last
masterpiece. In the place of the doorway by which Tiki-pu had entered
he painted a solid brick wall; twice over he painted it, making it two
bricks thick; brick by brick he painted it, and mortared every brick to
its place. And when he had quite finished he laughed, and called
"Good-night, Tiki-pu!" and went home to bed quite happy.
The next day all the apprentices were wondering what had become of
Tiki-pu; but as the master himself said nothing, and as another boy
came to act as colour-grinder and brush-washer to the establishment,
they very soon forgot all about him.
In the studio the master used to sit at work with his students all about
him, and a mind full of ease and contentment. Now and then he would
throw a glance across to the bricked-up doorway of Wio-wani's palace,
and laugh to himself, thinking how well he had served out Tiki-pu for
his treachery and presumption.
One day--it was five years after the disappearance of Tiki-pu--he was
giving his apprentices a lecture on the glories and the beauties and the
wonders of Wio-wani's painting--how nothing for colour could excel,
or for mystery could equal it. To add point to his eloquence, he stood
waving his hallds before Wio-wani's last masterpiece, and all his
students and apprentices sat round him and looked.
Suddenly he stopped at mid-word, and broke off in the full flight of his
eloquence, as he saw something like a hand come and take down the
top brick from the face of paint which he had laid over the little door in
the palace- wall which Wio-wani had so beautifully painted. In another
moment there was no doubt about it; brick by brick the wall was being
pulled down, in spite of its double thickness.
The lecturer was altogether too dumfounded and terrified to utter a

word. He and all his apprentices stood round and stared while the
demolition of the wall proceeded. Before long he recognised Wio-wani
with his flowing white beard; it was his handiwork, this pulling down
of the wall! He still had a brick in his hand when he stepped through
the opening that he had made, and close after him stepped Tiki-pu!
Tiki-pu was grown tall and strong--he was even handsome; but for all
that his old master recognised him, and saw with an envious foreboding
that under his arms he carried many rolls and stretchers and portfolios,
and other belongings of his craft. Clearly Tiki-pu was coming back into
the world, and was going to be a great painter.
Down the garden-path came Wio-wani, and Tiki-pu walked after him;
Tiki-pu was so tall that his head stood well over Wio-wani's
shoulders--old man and young man together made a handsome pair.
How big Wio-wani grew as he walked down the avenues of his garden
and into the foreground of his picture!