til some one
living wins the money.'

"Flaxius pricked up his ears. He understood all that the spirits said,
but they had no idea that the man in a scholar's robe who sat below knew
Goblinese.

"'What must a mortal do to get the gold?' inquired the second goblin.

"'Truly he must do what is well-nigh impossible,' replied the Elf of the
Tower; 'for he must, without magic aid--note that--bring to me here in
this month of January a fresh full-blown rose.'

"The voices were silent; a cloud passed over the face of the moon; the
river rushed and roared on; Flaxius sat in a Vandyke-brown study,
thinking how he could obtain peace and repose for the ghostly monk, and
also get the _pecuniam_.

"'Here is,' he thought, '_aliquid laborare_--something to be worked out.
Now is the time, and here is a chance--_ingirlandarsi di lauro_--to win
the laurel wreath. A rose in January! What a pity that it is not four
hundred years later, when people will have green-houses, and blue-nosed
vagabonds will be selling red roses all the winter long in the
Tornabuoni! Truly it is sometimes inconvenient to be in advance of or
behind the age.

"'_Eureka_! I have it,' he at last exclaimed, 'by the neck and tail. I
will _spogliar la tesoria_--rob the treasury and spoil the Egyptian--_si
non in errore versatus sum_--unless I am stupendously mistaken. Monk!
thy weird will soon be dreed--thy penance prophesied will soon be o'er.'

"Saying this he went into the city. And there the next day, going to a
fair dame of his acquaintance, who excelled all the ladies of all Italy
in ingenious needlework, he had made of silk a rose; and so deftly was it
done, that had it been put on a bush, you would have sworn that a
nightingale would have sung to it, or bee have sought to ravish it.

"Then going to a Venetian perfumer's, the wise Flaxius had his flower
well scented with best attar of roses from Constantinople, and when
midnight struck he was at the tower once more calling to the goblin.

"'_Che vuoi_? What dost thou seek?' cried the Elf.

"'The treasure of the monk!'

"'_Bene_! Give me a rose.'

"'_Ecco_! There it is,' replied Flaxius, extending it.

"'_Non facit_--it won't do,' answered the goblin (thinking Flaxius to be
a monk). 'It is a sham rose artificially coloured, _murice tincta est_.'

"'Smell it,' replied Flaxius calmly.

"'The _smell_ is all right, I admit,' answered the guardian of the gold.
'The perfume is delicious;' her