"What I propose doing?" he quoth politely.
"Why yes. You said just now that for four and twenty hours you were free to dream and to act as you will, but how will it be to-morrow?"
"To-morrow, sir," rejoined Diogenes lightly, "I shall be as poor in pocket as the burghers of Haarlem are in wits, and then...."
"Yes? and then?"
"Why then, sir, I shall once more become an integral portion of that rabble to which you and your friends think no doubt that I rightly belong. I shall not have one silver coin in my wallet and in order to obtain a handful I shall be ready to sell my soul to the devil, my skin to the Stadtholder...."
"And your honour, sir?" queried the other with a sneer, "to whom will you sell that precious guerdon to-morrow?"
"To you, sir," retorted Diogenes promptly, "an you are short of the commodity."
An angry word rose to the other man's lips, but his eyes encountered those of his antagonist and something in the latter's look, something in the mocking eyes, the merry face, seemed to disarm him and to quench his wrath. He even laughed good-humouredly and said:
"Well spoken, sir. You had me fairly there with the point of your tongue. No doubt you are equally skilful with the point of your rapier...."
"It shall be at your service after to-morrow, sir," rejoined Diogenes lightly.