"There is a reason for that, since like you, Anaïtis, I am not so youthful as I appear." "I do not care a straw about appearances," wept Anaïtis, "but I know that I love you, and that you must be leaving me with the Equinox unless you can settle matters with the Master Philologist." "Well, my pet," says Jurgen, "the Jews got into Jericho by trying." He armed, and girded himself with Caliburn, drank a couple of bottles of wine, put on the shirt of Nessus over all, and then went to seek this thaumaturgist. Anaïtis showed him the way to an unpretentious residence, where a week's washing was drying and flapping in the side yard. Jurgen knocked boldly, and after an interval the door was opened by the Master Philologist himself. "You must pardon this informality," he said, blinking through his great spectacles, which had dust on them: "but time was by ill luck arrested hereabouts on a Thursday evening, and so the maid is out indefinitely. I would suggest, therefore, that the lady wait outside upon the porch. For the neighbors to see her go in would not be respectable." "Do you know what I have come for?" says Jurgen, blustering, and splendid in his glittering shirt and his gleaming armor. "For I warn you I am justice." "I think you are lying, and I am sure you are making an unnecessary noise. In any event, justice is a word, and I control all words." "You will discover very soon, sir, that actions speak louder than words." "I believe that is so," said the Master Philologist, still blinking, "just as the Jewish mob spoke louder than He Whom they crucified. But the Word endures." "You are a quibbler!" "You are my guest. So I advise you, in pure friendliness, not to impugn the power of my words." Said Jurgen, scornfully: "But is justice, then, a word?" "Oh, yes, it is one of the most useful. It is the Spanish _justicia_, the Portuguese _justiça_, the Italian _giustizia_, all from the Latin _justus_. Oh, yes indeed, but justice is one of my best connected words, and one of the best trained also, I can assure you." "Aha, and to what degraded uses do you put this poor enslaved intimidated justice!" "There is but one intelligent use," said the Master Philologist, unruffled, "for anybody to make of words. I will explain it to you, if you will come in out of this treacherous draught. One never knows what a cold may lead to." Then the door closed upon them, and Anaïtis waited outside, in some trepidation. Presently Jurgen came out of that unpretentious residence, and so back to Anaïtis, discomfited. Jurgen flung down his magic sword, charmed Caliburn.