nd the
barber was lost in the puddle that had collected itself between the
stones before the door.

The two citizens invited the distracted Pepusch to come in and drink a
glass of old hock with them, an offer which he readily accepted, and
seemed to enjoy the generous wine, though he sate silent and
abstracted, and answered not a word to all that could be said to him.
At last, however, his features brightened up, and he said, very kindly,
"You did well, my friends, in hindering me from killing, on the spot,
those wretches, who were in my power. But you know not what dangerous
creatures lurk beneath their masks."

Pepusch paused, and it may be easily supposed with what eagerness the
citizens waited for what he had to discover. The host also had
approached them, and all three poked their heads together, with their
arms crossed upon the table, and held in their breath, that they might
not lose a syllable from Peregrine's mouth.

"See, my good people," he continued solemnly, "see; he, whom you call
the Balletmaster, Legenie, is no other than the evil, awkward genius,
Thetel; the other, whom you take for the Douanier, Leech, is the
hateful bloodsucker, the Leech-Prince. Both are in love with the
Princess, Gamaheh, who, as you know, is the daughter of the mighty
king, Sekakis, and are here to make her false to the Thistle, Zeherit.
This is the greatest folly that ever entered into a foolish brain, for,
besides the Thistle, Zeherit, there is but one person in the world to
whom she can belong, and this person would perhaps vainly enter into
the contest with Zeherit. For soon the Thistle will bloom at midnight
in full splendour and strength, and in the death of love dawns the
morning of a higher life. Now, I myself am the Thistle, Zeherit, and,
therefore, my good friends, you cannot blame me if I am indignant with
those traitors, and altogether take the whole affair much to heart."

The three listeners opened their eyes wide, and stared, speechlessly,
at Pepusch, with open mouths. They had tumbled out of the clouds, as
people say, and their heads were humming with the fall. But Pepusch
emptied a bumper, and, turning to the host, said, "Yes, yes, mine host;
you will soon see that I shall bloom as the _Cactus grandiflorus_, and
the whole country round will be impregnated with its perfume. You may
believe me, friends."

The host could utter nothing but an exclamation of stupid
surprise--"Eh! that would be the deuce!" The two