“The place is at your full disposal,” said Menippus. “I make you my guest in confidence. There is but one stipulation I would put to you. The winding stair beyond your chamber leads to precincts which are my concern alone. I pray you leave them unmounted. Since you are a man it is safe to make this request. An’ you were a woman it would send you up them in haste at the first opportune moment.” “Humph!” said Peregrine, leaving the cynicism unanswered. “And now I bid you good-night,” said Menippus. The Sage departed Peregrine sat down on his bed. By the light of a candle he surveyed the place. The walls were ochre-washed; the floor bare board, none too clean. Cobwebs hung about the ceiling; a waiting spider or two made dark blots on the soft grey nets. The bed was a straw mattress on wooden trestles, and covered by a somewhat mangey bearskin. A wooden chair, a rough oak chest, and a table made up the remainder of the furniture. Above the table was a slit of a window set far forward in a deep embrasure. Peregrine crossed to the table, mounted it, and peered through the slit. The storm had spent itself. The world lay in still whiteness without. Overhead the sky was star-sprinkled, powdered with myriads of waking eyes. Peregrine felt strange comfort in their watchfulness. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XX VIBRATIONS TIME being the panacea for most ills as we are told, so we may well regard custom as the panacea for most distastes. It is certain it proved a panacea for Peregrine’s. Active dislike being presently dulled to indifference, interest anon awakened. You cannot long remain in the company of an ardent believer without receiving some touch of his beliefs, be they in God, the Devil, or himself. Menippus believed in the two last, more particularly in himself, being fully persuaded that while the Devil lent him some little aid he could most readily have dispensed with his services altogether, have relied entirely upon his own power. Doubtless the Devil, his master, being most politic, endorsed this theory, the while he laughed in his sleeve. Peregrine, exceeding open to influences, sucked up the mental atmosphere around him as a sponge sucks up water. He had no notion of his own tendency. An’ he had, he might have been the better on his guard, though here a man’s own skill is of little avail, he needs truly to put on the armour of light, as the Scriptures have it.