he man, he is more than mad, he is furious."

Gryphus flourished his stick above his head, but Van Baerle moved not,
and remained standing with his arms akimbo.

"It seems your intention to threaten me, Master Gryphus."

"Yes, indeed, I threaten you," cried the jailer.

"And with what?"

"First of all, look at what I have in my hand."

"I think that's a stick," said Cornelius calmly, "but I don't suppose
you will threaten me with that."

"Oh, you don't suppose! why not?"

"Because any jailer who strikes a prisoner is liable to two
penalties,--the first laid down in Article 9 of the regulations at
Loewestein:--

"'Any jailer, inspector, or turnkey who lays hands upon any prisoner of
State will be dismissed.'"

"Yes, who lays hands," said Gryphus, mad with rage, "but there is not a
word about a stick in the regulation."

"And the second," continued Cornelius, "which is not written in the
regulation, but which is to be found elsewhere:--

"'Whosoever takes up the stick will be thrashed by the stick.'"

Gryphus, growing more and more exasperated by the calm and sententious
tone of Cornelius, brandished his cudgel, but at the moment when he
raised it Cornelius rushed at him, snatched it from his hands, and put
it under his own arm.

Gryphus fairly bellowed with rage.

"Hush, hush, my good man," said Cornelius, "don't do anything to lose
your place."

"Ah, you sorcerer! I'll pinch you worse," roared Gryphus.

"I wish you may."

"Don't you see my hand is empty?"

"Yes, I see it, and I am glad of it."

"You know that it is not generally so when I come upstairs in the
morning."

"It's true, you generally bring me the worst soup, and the most
miserable rations one can imagine. But that's not a punishment to me; I
eat only bread, and the worse the bread is to your taste, the better it
is to mine."

"How so?"

"Oh, it's a very simple thing."

"Well, tell it me," said Gryphus.

"Very willingly. I know that in giving me bad bread you think you do me
harm."

"Certainly; I don't give it you to please you, you brigand."

"Well, then, I, who am a sorcerer, as you know, change your bad into
excellent bread, which I relish more than the best cake; and then I have
the double pleasure of eating something that gratifies my palate, and of
doing something that puts you in a rage."

Gryphus answered with a growl.

"Oh! you confess, then, that you are a sorcerer."

"Indeed, I am one. I don't say it before