Next morning the stranger returned for the doublet. I delivered it into his left hand with my left, and he turned to go. At the door he looked back at me smiling, and was about to bow himself out when he paused to try the button with his fingers. A slight frown came over his face; he pulled the button gently, and behold, there before my eyes,—I assure you I saw it with these very eyes,—the button came off into his hand!
He sighed, looked at me gravely, and held out the button in one hand and the doublet in the other.
“Alas, good master Solario!” said he. “You have not treated me very well. The hopes I entertained for your profit are at an end. It remains only for me to apologize for my intrusion, and for you to return to me the money which I left with you.”
This was too much. The idea of returning money which had once been locked safely in my coffer was more than I could bear. I sprang down from my table. “One moment!” I cried. “I beg of you! That I should not be able to sew on a miserable button—it is too ridiculous! Let me see your master myself, and prove to him what I can do! Take me to him at once! Let him assign me any task whatever, and I swear to you—”
“You wish to see my master?” said the stranger.
“At once!” I cried. “Do not carry back to him a report of me so unjust! I must see him myself!”
“Be careful what you say,” said the stranger. “You may be sorry.”
“Impossible!” said I. “Take me to him at once!”
The stranger looked at me thoughtfully. “If I take you,” said he, “swear that you will never blame me for what may happen.”
“I swear it!” I cried.