And Florian mildly pitied their come-down in life, and their descent into this forlorn condition, but felt himself, none the less, to be sitting among ne’er-do-wells, and to be in not quite the company suited to a nobleman of his rank. So it was really a relief when the Master’s religious services were over, and when, with the coming of red dawn, his servants departed, trooping this way and that way, but without ever ascending far above earth as they passed like sombre birds. The Master now stood unattended upon the asherah stone. Florian then nodded civilly to the fallen gods, and left them. Florian came forward and, removing his silver-laced green hat with a fine stately sweep, he gave Janicot that ceremonious bow which Florian reserved for persons whose worldly estate entitled them to be treated as equals by a Duke of Puysange. _15._ _Dubieties of the Master_ “Come,” said Janicot, yawning in the dawn of Christmas Day, “but here is our romantic lordling of Puysange, to whom love is divine, and the desired woman a goddess.” Florian did not at once reply. He had for the instant forgotten his need of the sword Flamberge. For on account of the requirements of the various ceremonies, Janicot, except for a strip of dappled fawn-skin across his chest, was not wearing any clothes, not even any shoes. Florian had just noticed Janicot’s feet. But Florian was too courteous to comment upon personal peculiarities: for this only is the secret of all good-breeding, he reflected, not ever to wound the feelings of anybody, in any circumstances, without premeditation. So his upsetment was but momentary, and was not shown perceptibly, he felt sure, by the gasp which politeness had turned into a sigh. “But what the deuce,” said Janicot then, “is this a proper groan, is this the appropriate countenance, for one whose love has overridden the by-laws of time and nature and even of necromancy?” “Ah, Monsieur Janicot,” answered Florian, “gravity everywhere goes arm-in-arm with wisdom, and I am somewhat wiser than I was when we last talked together. For I have been to the high place, and my desires have been gratified.” “That is an affair of course, since all my friends have all their desires in this world. What cannot be with equal readiness taken for granted is the fact that you appear on that account to be none the happier.” “Merriment,” replied Florian, “is a febrile passion. But content is quiet.” “So, then, you are content, my little duke?” “The word ‘little,’ Monsieur Janicot, has in its ordinary uses no uncivil connotations. Yet, when applied to a person—” “I entreat your pardon, Monsieur the Duke, for the ill-chosen adjective, and I hastily withdraw it.”