"And what there to find, my young man?"
"Pen and paper. I must write to Mistress Penwick."
"Ah yes, ah yes, my son. I had forgotten. Curve thy sentences to the
point, without being so broad in assertion another might understand.
Thou hadst better put it this way--"
"Indeed I thought I had my meaning well covered. I had proposed to
say--"
"Ah, we are not alone; step this way." The monk turned to a panelling
that gave way by a touch, and to Cantemir's surprise they were alone
in a dark and vaulted passage; indeed they were unable to discern
aught. Quickly the Abbe drew his companion from the panelling through
which they had passed; and 'twas hardly done when three monks followed
with lighted candles. The foremost was Constantine, carrying an
enormous bunch of keys. Their long robes swept Cantemir's feet. He
drew a quick breath, and before it sounded his companion placed his
hand over his mouth. Now this hand smacked not of holy mould or
monastic incense, but rather of rare perfume; but Cantemir was
frightened and did not notice the worldliness of the admonishing hand.
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