“There I take leave to differ from you,” remarked Menippus. “Curiosity or wisdom might have led you an’ you had come of set purpose. Believing neither to have had a hand in the matter, I see rather the guidance of my patroness Lachesis.” Turning he bowed towards one of the three figures.
“Truly,” smiled Peregrine ruefully, “her sister had her shears ready to the thread.”
“Ha! you recognize them. That is well. Yet, despite the guidance of Lachesis, I can fancy you imagined some guidance of your own?”
“Rather the guidance of a myth I pursued to my own undoing,” said Peregrine.
“There again I must make correction,” remarked Menippus very suavely. “Whatever myth you pursued, you pursued it to your advantage, since it led you hither.”
“Have it your own way,” laughed Peregrine, “I am too weary to do combat with you.”
Menippus took his finger out of the book and leaned back in his chair. He looked gravely at Peregrine. There was a note in the laughter which showed less respect than he considered his due. Briefly, his vanity, a tender commodity, was pricked.
“Putting for the nonce,” he said, “laughter aside, I would have you speak more plainly. Show me shortly the myth you pursued.”
Here was a slight air of command, which for a moment stung the Jester. The next, humour prevailed. He saw matter for amusement in the evident seriousness of the other. It was plain that he took himself by no means lightly.
“Well,” quoth Peregrine, “since you desire brevity in the account you shall have it. I had a dream, a vision, call it what you will.”