"No, I can't indeed. Let's talk of something else. How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"I'm not sixteen yet. Is Castracane your real name?"
Castracane looked pleased.
"I'm glad you asked. No; they call me that among ourselves, because of a little knack I have; but my name is Pilade."
"That's a very nice name," said Silvestro.
"I believe you—it's a splendid name. There's no better. It's the name of a Roman—Emperor of Rome and Sultan of Padua he was—who killed a giant called Oreste, having first caused him to become a Christian."
"But why did he kill him when he had made a Christian of him?" asked Silvestro, greatly interested; "or why did he make him a Christian, if he was going to kill him?"
"Pouf! What questions!" cried Castracane. "He made him a Christian because he was a good Catholic himself, and killed him for being a giant, of course. Or take it this way. If he hadn't been a Christian, how could he have made a good death? He couldn't, naturally. So the Emperor christened him first and killed him afterwards—ecco! It's always done like that, they tell me."