"Oh, you want to find Malachi?" she said in a cautious whisper, nodding understandingly. "Follow me."
She closed and locked the shop-door, opened a little gate at the corner of the house, led me across a vegetable garden hung with soiled clothes; across a second; thence through a narrow passage, between two old buildings, into a wood-shed; from there into a cellar; then over a swinging bridge across an ill-smelling canal; and, lastly, through a long, seemingly interminable corridor, at the end of which she knocked with her staff at a wooden door, at the same time whispering in my ear, and taking the crown from my hand:
"I can't tell you where Malachi lives; but I have brought you to the thaumaturgus, who knows everything; he will tell you where to find Malachi."
The door opened, and I saw before me a venerable man with silvery hair and beard. He was blind. His tall form was enveloped in a black silk robe girt about the waist by an oriental sash. From his garb, I concluded that a coin of greater value would be necessary to procure the information I desired.
"Are you the man who knows everything?" I inquired.
The old gentleman was not in the least chary of words. With great readiness he declared that he understood the language of the birds of the air; the speech of the beasts of the field; that he could converse with dragons; could discover subterranean springs; could tell any man whether or no he was the son of his father; could even understand the tongue in which demons spake—
"But," I interrupted, "I don't want to know any of these things. If you will tell me where Malachi lives, I will pay for the information."
"Ah, my son!" he responded, turning his sightless eyes heavenward; "that is a difficult question to answer. There are in this world as many Malachis as there are flowers in the field, and stars in the sky. There are seventy-seven in this very city; a Malachi Mizraim; a Malachi Meschugge; a Malachi Choschen; Malachi Pinkas; Malachi Honnowas—How do I know which Malachi you want?"
"I want the one who is a—counterfeiter," I answered, with some hesitation.
"Ah, my son!" again ejaculated the venerable sage, shaking his head sadly, "how sorry I am to hear that you are on such evil ways! All the Malachis with whom I have to do are honest, God-fearing men."