“You’re a fine masquerader, master scrivener,” I continued prodding him. “You remind me of a certain fool.”
I meant of course the man with the bauble and the bells whom I happened on at the armorer’s forge.
“It’s a wise man who can play the fool,” he winked. “Sometimes it’s handier than a sharp sword.”
It was plain I could get nothing from him. I raised my brows and looked at him from head to heel. First I grinned. Then I laughed openly.
“You’re a dark, secret man, master scrivener, full of tricks and wiles,” I said. “But with all your cunning I am sure of this, if you shaved the hair from your face and washed the dirt away, you would strongly remind me of a certain gentleman with whom I had a little tiff a week or so ago at Le Brun’s forge.”
CHAPTER XI
I FIND A COMPANION
He turned on me like a flash.
“Do you know,” said he with an assumption of great dignity, “that when you are in another man’s house, it is wise to take things as they are!”
“Is this really your house?” I asked. “Or are you toying with me?”