He got into a rage at this, and turning his back on me went out, saying I should be sorry for what I had said.
My Spaniard followed him down the stair and came back to tell me that the signor had gone off threatening vengeance, and that, in his opinion, I would do well to be on my guard.
“All right,” said I, “say no more about it.”
All the same I was really very grateful for his advice, and I gave the matter a good deal of thought.
I dressed myself and went to see Esther, whom I had to convince of the divinity of my oracle, a different task with one whose own wits had told her so much concerning my methods. This was the problem she gave me to solve,
“Your oracle must tell me something which I, and only I, know.”
Feeling that it would be impossible to fulfil these conditions, I told her that the oracle might reveal some secret she might not care to have disclosed.
“That is impossible,” she answered, “as the secret will be known only to myself.”
“But, if the oracle replies I shall know the answer as well as you, and it may be something you would not like me to know.”
“There is no such thing, and, even if there were, if the oracle is not your own brain you can always find out anything you want to know.”