lmost 24 hours have passed since we began. In a way it seems like minutes yet, in another, forever.

I ache from the continued effort and sit alone in the room, listening to the movement coming from the master chamber. No words I can discern just sounds, all to do, no doubt, with making good the old fellow for the final part of this.

I have but a small adjustment under one eye and a signature to apply and it is done. I will be rich and will have experienced the strangest affair of my already full life.

The water is cool, poured from the crystal decanter made available by his man when he entered moments before, my thirst put away with two full glasses.

I have cleaned up around and am ready to finish, so now I will wait. The mantle clock shows twenty after eleven. Thinking back... what lead to this most strange affair.

As I remember it is 5 days since old Macomber informed me of the man's arrival that Tuesday, May 11th, 1894. I was in my studio as was my want to do on days such as that. The afternoon was warm and the light was ideal for the still life I was painting on commission for Mr. Earnest Slome Esq., a man of new money involved in trade of some sort or another.

I must admit here to an irritation at the announcement. Gentle society was not one to call without notice and I paid little attention to the visiting card Macomber proffered on the silver tray. I have heard tell of "artistic temperament". I have no doubt it exists but am sure often it is confused with the physical requirements of having to work when the work can be done. This considered, and the fact that this day was the first in about three since I last felt happy with the ambience, I was peeved at the interruption.

I would be remiss not acknowledging that I may have seemed less than courteous when I made my arrival in the sitting room. But, if I were so, the good grace of my visitor was not effected and his apologies for arriving in the manner he had were quickly and most earnestly offered.

So much so I felt at once that I must improve my demeanor and did.

"Mr. Rowles, I represent the offices of Tarrant & Son. We are Sydney based and represent a number of exclusive clients at law and elsewhere."

His card reported just that fact in a fine Copperplate type printed in the new fashion of being raised from the linen sheet. I was immediately impressed by the blood red ink recording the firm's name prominently in the center.

"I will not trespass on your time beyond a moment." He said to me and I noticed that Macomber had not relieved my visitor, a one Mathew Elias Byron the card reported, of his cane or hat, both of which he held in front of him as if to add further proof to his words.

"No, not at all Byron" I insisted and adopted the manners of the congenial host I should have at that stage. "Please, do sit, I'll have tea bought."

I pulled the cord by the mantel and Macomber soon appeared, taking Byron's accouter and receiving my request for tea.

For a while, we filled the time with the pleasantries that one must on such occasions although I admit my interest was more than a little piqued.

The small talk was of things local to us both and we found that we had an acquaintance in John Booth. It appeared that Byron's relationship was one of friend of a friend and we spoke kindly of the Scot for a while.

Tea was served and we talked a little longer, until fair time had passed for business to be discussed.

"As I mentioned, we represent a number of exclusive clients Mr. Rowles and it is by way of a commission that I have called."

I nodded to this as it was to be expected. I am experiencing fine favour at this time with my art being considered acceptable to many that knew of such things. I had little difficulty considering that this may be the reason for the gentleman to call, given his role as agent by attorney.

I was going to speak but he continued immediately, illustrating that he wished to control the meeting and I was not of a mind to interfere.

Truth be known I needed the money. An investment of which little need be said here had floundered and I was in the most part short of funds. Any work I would be offered would be graciously accepted.

"I have been instructed to offer you a most peculiar opportunity. It is by way of a portrait but I must say that it comes with a set of strict rules..." he stopped for a second, his hand gesticulating a little as if fishing for words.

"I'm sure that any such would be acceptable to me..." I helped fill the gap his reticence had created. He looked at me for the briefest while, a strange look I must say, difficult to describe, and continued.

"That may be so Sir but let me talk to them as dictated within the agreement." He took a folio from the inside pocket of his topcoat. It was yellowed with age and wrapped in a ribbon as red as the aforementioned ink.

I wondered at the apparent age of the thing as he unwrapped it. He noticed my attention and mentioned.

"This document is an annuity. Its agreement is a covenant that is offered each forty-five years to an artist of popular note. This time is its 6th iteration although I believe it to be older, it is just that this paper is able to be aged as such from previous signatories to it."

He opened the thing and I saw that is was a single page that was folded by half and then thirds again. Its text was calligraphy of the most finest and I could see through the light behind my guest that its bottom left half was a place of signatures and dates. It seemed to me that this was by way of some benefaction and I made the comment to Byron.

"Aye, that is so Sir." He said as he slipped his bifocals over his nose. He was a man of middle age and as thin as a post. His nose was large but not big. Its length made it prominent and I would say that the new art of cartooning would have only have had to draw the man straight to have him appear in character.

"Now. I shall begin. Clause 1 is of funding. It must be open to codicil as it would prove unworkable to have figures noted, given the effect time has on value, so I am able to make the following offer."

He took another paper from his pocket and this was pristine white, I imagined I smelt the Indian Ink as he worked the sheet flat.

"For the completed work we undertake to pay the artist a full commission." He continued after a pause "On acceptance hereon a figure of 50% of the agreed amount. On arrival for the sitting a further 25% and, on completion, the balance."

"For the purpose of this contract said commission shall be a figure the assignor deems payable based on the quality of the work but no less than five thousand pounds." The man stopped at that, watching me.

My head spun, I must say that five thousand pounds was an amount beyond any I would have considered. My normal rates would have had the work performed for about one hundred. Where I should have been suspicious it is safe to say I was elated.

I suppose I did not truly understand that it may be more for the minimum payment seemed astronomical in its self. Taking my dumb response as a sign of positive reply, he continued.

"Clause 2 is to ownership and of course it remains with the benefactor." I nodded to this; it was normal course after all.

"Clause 3 is of a number of points, and, now Sir, the peculiarity of which I spoke." He sat forward and I must say I followed suit, as if adding a certain conspiracy to the undertaking.

"Clause 3.1 speaks of how the benefactor will make available the equipment needed for the task and that you will not need to, nor are you allow to, bring anything with you. Further, they will provide you with smock and clothing after you have bathed accordingly." I considered this, strange per se but not overpoweringly so for I had had enough exposure to life to know of the peccadilloes that surround some folk. I nodded, he continued.

"Now, clause 3.2 is of timing. I want you to listen carefully to what I say. You must start this work on the stroke of Midnight of the morning of Sunday, May 16th and further, the last brush stroke, which is to be your signature, must be delivered as the clock strikes midnight at the end of that day."

Twenty-four hours to complete a portrait. This was indeed strange and I must say that for the first time I was concerned about the machinations of this most strange commission. Not enough to not want to hear the rest but not as doe-eyed now as I may have appeared on mention of the stipend.

"3.3 discusses the setting of the room. You will be locked in the room with the subject. The windows will be shuttered and draped to exclude all natural light. Tallow candles will be lit and this shall be the only light you have to use." He continued agreeably as if we were discussing the purchase of a paddock by a creek.

"Finally, 3.4 talks of the service afforded by the subjects man in that of meals and breaks etceteras."

He stopped at this time and took his glasses from his head. Two small red welts appeared where they had pinched his elongated nose and he rubbed this with a practiced action.

"Now, if you are content, I shall finish with the fourth which discusses forfeiture and failure to comply. Your lead Sir." He said in a respectful tone.

The rest weighed heavily on my mind. There was no doubt that this contract was unique to my experience. Nothing came close to it and I had never heard tell of anything similar. I pondered my ability to confirm with the various clauses and knew that I had no great concerns. The work could be done in the time. I could do so. I nodded to the man to continue.

"If you fail in this in any way, the assignor reserves the right to seize all capital belongings in your name and hold you liable for any costs in doing so..." he pauses for a moment "...it would seem Sir that this has an element of wager about it. Complete the thing and you are a wealthy man. Fail and you will surely lose all you have."

During all of this I had said few words and I could see no reason to change that course. I must take the time to confess a little less than the truth prior. The investment I had spoken of was a solid belief in a hand of poker. It was two pair of Aces and Kings off the deal. I am a man who enjoys the finer side of a wager and this did not deter me, on the contrary it sealed the deal.

"I accept the deal as stated Mr. Byron."

We busied ourselves signing the instrument. I prepared a place at the bureau and signed it at the spot prepared for this transaction. The names proceeding were varied and I can say that the first on the list amazed me totally. Marked along side the date 1669 was a signature any student of fine art would never have difficulty recognizing. In cursive script was the name Rembrandt Van Rijn. I recognized one or two of the others since and came to mine James David Rowles.

It occurred to me that our Mr. Byron must have been confident of my accepting this task as my name was transcribed to the form. Still, I thought with a smile, if he knew Booth, then he knew of my love of a wager.