“It is strange,” says Dom Manuel, “to think that everything I am seeing was mine a moment since, and it is queer too to think of what a famous fellow was this Manuel the Redeemer, and of the fine things he did, and it is appalling to wonder if all the other applauded heroes of mankind are like him. Oh, certainly, Count Manuel’s achievements were notable and such as were not known anywhere before, and men will talk of them for a long while. Yet, looking back--now that this famous Count of Poictesme means less to me--why I seem to see only the strivings of an ape reft of his tail, and grown rusty at climbing, who has reeled blunderingly from mystery to mystery, with pathetic makeshifts, not understanding anything, greedy in all desires, and always honeycombed with poltroonery. So in a secret place his youth was put away in exchange for a prize that was hardly worth the having; and the fine geas which his mother laid upon him was exchanged for the common geas of what seems expected.” “Such notions,” replied Grandfather Death, “are entertained by many of you humans in the lightheaded time of youth. Then common sense arises like a light, formless cloud about your doings, and you half forget these notions. Then I bring darkness.” “In that quiet dark, my friend, it may be I shall again become the Manuel whom I remember, and I may get back again my own undemonstrable ideas, in place of the ideas of other persons, to entertain me in that darkness. So let us be going thither.” “Very willingly,” said Grandfather Death; and he started toward the door. “Now pardon me,” says Manuel, “but in Poictesme the Count of Poictesme goes first in any company. It may seem to you an affair of no importance, but nowadays I concede the strength as well as the foolishness of my accustomed habits, and all my life long I have gone first. So do you ride a little way behind me, friend, and carry this shroud and napkin, till I have need of them.” Then the Count armed and departed from Storisende, riding on the black horse, in gold armor, and carrying before him his shield whereon was blazoned the rampant and bridled stallion of Poictesme and the motto _Mundus vult decipi_. Behind him was Grandfather Death on the white horse, carrying the Count’s grave-clothes in a neat bundle. They rode toward the sunset, and against the yellow sunset each figure showed jet black.