That night, soon after sunset, Dyram stood before the gate of the Dominican monastery, and, ringing the bell, asked the porter for the lodging of Sir Simeon of Roydon. It was evident to him that orders had been given for his admission, for, without any inquiry, he was immediately shown to a small chamber, where he found the knight alone. A curious contest of the wits then ensued, for the knight was shrewd, and had determined, if it were within the scope of possibility, to gain from Ned Dyram all the information he could afford; and Dyram, on the contrary, had resolved to give none but that which suited his purpose. Both were keen and cunning men; neither very scrupulous; each selfish in a high degree, though in a somewhat different line; and both eager and fiery in pursuit of their objects. The first question of the knight to Ned Dyram was, what had brought him to Ghent? "I came hither," he replied, at once, "with Master Richard of Woodville." The knight's brow was covered by a sudden cloud, and he demanded, in a sharp tone, "Is he here now?--Are you his servant, then?" "He is not here now," answered the man; "he has gone on with the Count de Charolois, and did not think fit to take me with him any further." "Then you are out of employment?" asked the knight. "For the present, I am," said Ned Dyram; "but I shall soon find as much as I want. I am never at a loss, sir knight." "That is lucky for yourself," replied Simeon of Roydon; and then abruptly added, "Will you take service with me?" "No!" answered Dyram, bluntly. "I will take service with no one any more. I was not meant for a varlet. I can do better things than be the serving-man of any knight or noble." "What can you do?" demanded Roydon, with a somewhat sarcastic smile. "What can I not?" exclaimed Dyram. "I can read better than a priest--write better than a clerk. I can speak languages that would make your ears tingle, without understanding what you heard. I can compound all essences and drugs; I can work in gold, silver, or iron; and I know some secrets that would well nigh raise the dead." "Indeed!" said the knight. "Then you must be a monk, or a doctor of Oxford." "Neither," replied the man; "but I see you disbelieve me. Shall I give you a proof of what I can do?" "Yes," answered Sir Simeon; "I should like to see some spice of your skill." "In what way shall it be," asked Ned Dyram. "If you will order up some charcoal, with this little instrument and these pinchers I will make you a chain to go round your wrist out of a gold noble; or, if there be a Greek book in the monastery, I will read you a page therefrom, and expound it, in the presence of whom you will, as a judge; for well I wot you yourself know nothing about it."