Sarsem:
‘Indeed? Let me look … I see nothing.’
Osherl:
‘No? Most singular! What shall I tell Rhialto?’
Sarsem:
‘He is easily confused. Tell him that the image is trapped in the clouds. This pleurmalion is now worthless. Take it back.’
Osherl:
‘But this is a different pleurmalion from the one I gave you! It is only a trifle of ordinary glass!’
Sarsem:
‘What then? Both are now equally useless. Take it back and give it to that mooncalf Rhialto; he will never know the difference.’
Osherl:
‘Hm. Rhialto is a mooncalf, but a cunning mooncalf.’
Sarsem:
‘He is very troublesome to our friend Hache-Moncour, who has promised us so many indulgences … My advice is this: by some subterfuge induce him to cancel your indenture; then leave him to cool his heels here in this dank and tiresome epoch.’
Osherl:
‘The concept has much to recommend it.’
“So saying, the two of you chuckled together, then you took leave of your crony and descended with the false pleurmalion and the news that the sky showed no projection, owing to the overcast.”
Osherl cried out with quivering jowls: “Is this not plausible? You have no reason to believe either that the new pleurmalion is false, or that Sarsem’s views are incorrect!”
“First of all: why did you not report your conversation with Sarsem?”
Osherl shrugged. “You failed to ask.”
“Explain, if you will, why the sky-spot was clear and evident last night, through this self-same overcast?”
“I am mystified.”
“Would you not say that either the Perciplex was moved or that the true pleurmalion was exchanged for a falsity?”
“I suppose that a case could be made along these lines.”
“Precisely so. Osherl, the game is up! I here and now fine you three indenture points for faulty and faithless conduct.”
Osherl uttered a wild cry of emotion. Rhialto raised his hand to induce quiet. “Further, I will now put to you a most earnest question, which you must answer with truth and any elaboration necessary to provide me a practical and accurate picture of the situation. Sarsem took from you the pleurmalion. Did he also take, touch, hide, move, alter, destroy, make temporal transfer of, or any other sort of transfer, or in any other way disturb or influence the condition of the Perciplex? Here I refer to that true Perciplex he guarded at Fader’s Waft. I dislike verbosity, but it must be used in dealing with you.”
“No.”
“‘No’? No what? I myself have become confused.”
“Sarsem, despite the urgings of Hache-Moncour, does not dare to touch the Perciplex.”
“Bring Sarsem here.”
After another interchange of acrimony Sarsem, as usual in the form of the lavender-scaled youth, appeared before the pavilion.
“Sarsem, return to me the pleurmalion,” said Rhialto evenly.
“Impossible! By order of the new Preceptor I destroyed it.”
“Who is the new Preceptor?”
“Hache-Moncour, of course.”
“And how do you know this for a fact?”
“He so assured me from his own mouth, or at least implied that this would shortly be the case.”
“He told you incorrectly. You should have ascertained the facts from Ildefonse. I fine you three indenture points!”
Like Osherl, Sarsem set up an outcry. “You have no such authority!”
“Hache-Moncour’s lack of authority worried you not at all.”