"This is not Devil's work—as I shall prove," Jonas said. He shifted his feet. "But let me establish one point at a time, in the most scholastic manner; if you will permit."
"I permit," Knupf said. There was interest in his mind, overlaid with skepticism, of course, but interest all the same. That, Jonas thought, was a better sign than he had dared to hope for.
"Very well," he said. "Think of a word. Think of any single word. I shall tell it to you."
"As any wizard might do, who had the help of his lord the Devil," Knupf muttered. "Do you expect this to prove—"
"One thing at a time," Jonas said.
Knupf nodded. A second passed.
Jonas licked his lips. The possibilities paraded before him; on one hand, success. On the other there was the torture and death of the Inquisition. Jonas took a deep breath; there was no way to back out now. Heroism looked a little empty, though.
He closed his eyes. "Cabbages," he said.
Knupf neither applauded, nor looked surprised. "As I have said," he murmured, "that which the Devil can grant—" He paused and looked down at his hands. "Am I to take this as a confession?" he said. "Do you wish to hurry your own death?"
"I am no wizard," Jonas said.