"Your promises are pretty bold, especially that last one, my Poet. However, if you promise me good sport, of course I will stay a little longer in Alsander." "I have one bag full of promises and one full of fulfilments," smiled the old man, "and they both weigh pretty well the same. But first you have a promise to make to me." "Which is?" "That you will maintain the most absolute, the most impenetrable secrecy concerning what you have seen this afternoon, including the very existence of such persons as myself and the King of Alsander." "A reasonable and not unexpected request. Of course I give you my word of honour to keep silent. But reveal your next mystery, Signore!" "What is a revealed mystery, except for the Church? All I care to let you know is that if you prove your mettle you shall be allowed to help in the regeneration of Alsander." "A political scheme--is that it? But how am I to prove my mettle?" "Wait and you will see." "Tell me at least," rejoined Norman, "what is to be my immediate conduct. How am I to make the first step of this sublime journey?" "Return to your lodging, rise, eat, walk, sleep, and flirt a little less than usual, and await events." "Is that all?" "Not quite all. I have another very fanciful request to make. Are you what the ancients call a good hypocrite, that is to say, an accomplished actor? For there is a delicate piece of acting which I would like you to perform. I want you by gradual degrees to raise a little mystery about yourself. I want you to insinuate with a hint here and a whisper there that you are a personage, a man with a past, a nobleman in disguise, at all events not quite what you seem. Let the honest folk you dwell with begin to imagine that there is some secret about your arrival in Alsander." "My dear sir, what a very odd idea!" "You will be full of odd ideas in a few weeks' time. I only hope that you will succeed in this the first of your tasks, and that you have not already been too explicit concerning your origin and identity. Play the lost millionaire or the ruined marquis. Become quickly a marked man--a man at whose approach the townsfolk whisper. "This is a harlequin's game," said Norman, indignantly. "Well, the world's a ball, and out of shape at that: there's no need to be ashamed of mummery. If you don't like it leave it: but I should be extremely sorry, and you would miss the occasion of your life. Come, now!" They passed through the castle gate. The sentries appeared to be still asleep, leaning against the archway, their lances propped on their drowsy bodies. The castle square was deserted as ever. Halfway across the old man stopped--seized Norman by the lapel of his coat and observed, "By the way, you ought to give that girl a handsome present!"