"That is a great responsibility for an inexperienced stripling like yourself! If you find any difficulties, or if you suspect that you are being cheated, call me and I will set matters right!"
"Thank you, sir! I am much relieved." The time was still two hours short of sundown. Yossip opened the booth, arranged the flowers in vases and, after some hesitation, placed the green pearl on display, in a dish on one of the back shelves. "It is a wondrous gem," he told himself. "Still, what use is it to me? I am not one for earrings nor other adornments. Well, we shall see. The gem must bring a good price or I will not sell."
In the morning Melancthe appeared early and looked here and there. She noticed the flowers and gave a glad cry. "Where is the good Zuck?"
"He is searching out new merchandise," said Yossip. "The booth is in my care."
"At least he has found flowers for me! Bring them forward; they are mine alone and must never be sold elsewhere!"
"As you wish, lady."
Melancthe took possession of the flowers. They were indeed of startling distinction, with colours that seemed to shudder with the force of their nature. Each was different; each projected a unique personality. The first: pungent orange, mingled with vermilion, plum-red and black. The second: sea-green with purple glowing under a luster of beetle-back blue. The third: black glossy-harsh with spikes of strident ocher-yellow, and a scarlet tuft at the center. The fourth: a dozen concentric rings of small petals, in turn white, red and blue.
Melancthe asked no price. She tossed down four golden crowns. "When will you have more of these blooms?"
Yossip at once saw how the wind blew. Zuck had been deceitful by an order of magnitude larger than Yossip had imagined. Still, whether for good or for bad, he could not be punished a second time. Yossip reflected. "Tomorrow, lady, I may have more flowers."
"Remember, they must be reserved for me alone! I am fascinated by their bizarre complication!"
Yossip said smoothly: "To ensure yourself full ownership, I advise that you pay over at this moment a sufficiency of gold coins; otherwise someone may be quicker than you tomorrow morning."
Melancthe contemptuously flung down five more crowns of yellow gold, and the transaction was thereby validated.
Dusk fell over the meadow. Lamps hung in the trees and a variety of folk who preferred night to day came to stroll among the booths and to chaffer for articles which aroused their interest.
At the inn Melancthe dined modestly upon a chicken wing and a turnip cooked with honey and butter. She sat with her flowers set out in four vases, that she might admire each in turn, or all together, as she chose.
A saturnine dark-haired gentleman in splendid garments, distinguished by a neat mustache, a small beard, and keen features, approached her table. He bowed, doffed his hat, and without further ceremony seated himself.
Melancthe, recognizing Tamurello, made no comment. He inspected the flowers with curiosity. "Most fascinating, and, I would think, unique! Where do such extraordinary blossoms grow?"
"As to that, I cannot be sure," said Melancthe. "I buy them from a booth at the fair. Smell, them, one after the other. Each is different; each purports with its odor an entire cascade of meaning, and meanings of meanings; each is a whole pageant of subtle and nameless aromas."
Tamurello smelled each bloom in turn, and then each once again. He looked at them with lips pursed. "The odors are exquisite. I am reminded of something to which I cannot now put a name... . The thought hangs in a far comer of my mind and refuses to stir. A maddening sensation!"
"You will recognize it presently," said Melancthe. "Why are you here, where you come so rarely?"
"I am here by curiosity," said Tamurello. "Only a few moments ago there was a tremble at Twitten's Post. It might mean much, or it might mean little, but such a tremble is always worth the investigation... . Aha! Look then, who has just entered the inn! It is Visbhume, and I must confer with him at once."
Visbhume stood by the counter, looking this way and that for Hockshank, who at this moment was busy elsewhere.
Tamurello went to stand beside him. "Visbhume, what do you do here?"
Visbhume peered at the black-bearded grandee who addressed him so familiarly. "Sir, you have the advantage of me."
"I am Tamurello, in a guise I often use while going abroad."
"Of course! Now I recognize you, by the clarity of your gaze! Tamurello, it is a pleasure to see you!"
"Thank you. What brings you here at this season?"
Visbhume puffed out his cheeks and gave his forefinger a wag. "Now then, who can explain the foibles of a vagabond? One day here, the next day there! Sometimes the way is rude, sometimes it is rough, and sometimes one must tramp onward through the rain and the dark compelled only by the gleam of one's own far star! But for now, I wish only for Hockshank, that he may find me a comfortable chamber for the night."
"Your wants will not be satisfied, or so I fear. The inn is full."
Visbhume's face fell. "In that case I must find a tuft of hay in the barn."
"Unnecessary! Step outside a moment."
Somewhat reluctantly Visbhume followed Tamurello out the door and into the road. Tamurello looked up into the sky. He pointed aloft to where the moonlight shone on a floating manse of three towers, a terrace and a surrounding balustrade.
"That is where I shall take my rest this night," said Tamurello. "But before I say more, I am curious as to why you are here when you were on last accounts hard at work in the service of King Casmir, upon my recommendation."
"True, true! With your usual acuity you understand the exact state of affairs! I believe that I will now take a bite of supper. If you will excuse me—"
"In a moment," said Tamurello. "Tell me, how went your business with Casmir?"
"Tolerably well."
"He is pleased with your information?"
"In truth, I have not yet reported to him. The knowledge I have gained is so footling that I may not even trouble to do so."
"What, in fact, did you learn?"
"Sir, I feel that I should best retain these few trivialities for Casmir's ears."
"Forsooth, Visbhume! Surely you have no secrets from me?"
"All of us have our little areas of privacy," said Visbhume primly.
"In some areas and at some times and with certain persons," stated Tamurello. "Not at Twitten's Corners by moonlight, in converse with Tamurello."
Visbhume made nervous flourishes of the hand. "Well then, if you insist, you shall know." And Visbhume added heartily: "After all, who referred me to Casmir but my good friend Tamurello?"
"Exactly so."
"I learned this much. Casmir is troubled by a prediction in regard to Suldrun's first-born son."
"I know of this prediction, by Persilian the Mirror. I know of Casmir's concern."
"The fact is simple yet most poignant! Suldrun's first-born son was sired by Aillas, King of Troicinet. The son's name is Dhrun, and in one year at the fairy shee he attained the age of nine Earthly years."
"Interesting!" said Tamurello. "And how did you come by this information?"
"I worked with vast toil and cunning. I took Glyneth to the world Tanjecterly, and there I would easily have had the knowledge had not Shimrod sent down a great monster to harass me. But I am nothing if not indomitable; I gained my information, I killed the beast, and I came up from Tanjecterly with my information."
"And the Princess Glyneth?"
"She remains in Tanjecterly, where she cannot tell tales."
"A wise precaution there! You are right! Knowledge of this sort is best kept secret, and reserved to the fewest possible number of minds. Indeed, Visbhume, one mind is enough, for knowledge of this sort."
Visbhume drew back a step. "Two minds are quite as secure."