“It is a madling, no more, with an eye illuminating a section of Hache-Moncour’s vision, so that he may watch all that transpires.”
“Catch it in a net and put it into a box, so that Hache-Moncour may enjoy a good night’s rest.”
“As you wish … It is done.”
“And who watches us now, and who listens to us?”
“No one. We are alone.”
“Osherl, I wonder why you persist in your deceptions?”
Osherl spoke in a startled tone: “What is it this time?”
“Today a bowl was brought from the hole. It had been thrown into the Santune Sea an epoch before the Perciplex was lost: so much I infer from the style of the ship and the nature of its rigging, and also from the animal species depicted in the decorations. Therefore, the stratum containing the Perciplex has already been mined. Still I lack the Perciplex! How do you explain this?”
“A curious situation, I readily admit,” said Osherl in hearty tones. “Let us examine the pit.”
“Bring light.”
Osherl and Rhialto went to the excavation and peered over the edge, with their lights illuminating the bottom. Osherl said: “See there?” With a beam of light he indicated an area to the side, near the circumference, which had been dug two feet deeper than the area at the center. “That is the spot where the bowl was found: in a deeper section of the hole. Are you now satisfied?”
“Not yet. If that level predated the Perciplex, and all other levels have yielded nothing, then the Perciplex must now reside in that small hummock of dirt at the very center of the hole.”
“So it would seem.”
“Well then, Osherl, why are you waiting? Descend into the hole, take up shovel and dig, while I hold the light.”
A figure came briskly out of the dusk. “Osherl? Rhialto? Why are you shining lights into my hole? Is this act not in default of our contract? Why, tonight of all nights, do you take these steps?”
“One night is much like another,” said Rhialto. “Do you begrudge us our evening stroll, that we may breathe the cool fresh air?”
“Certainly not! Still, why do you equip yourselves with strong and vibrant lights?”
“Obviously, to avoid stumbling into holes and excavations! Already, as you have noted, the lights have served us well. Careful there, Osherl! Shine your light behind you! That is a thorn-bush into which you were backing.”
“One cannot be too careful,” said Osherl. “Rhialto, have you taken enough of the evening air?”
“Quite enough. Good night, Um-Foad.”
“One moment! I want another instalment paid on your debt.”
“Um-Foad, do you always work to such narrow margins? Here is another five gold zikkos. Be content for a period.”
In the morning Rhialto was early at the sifting box, and scrutinized each load of dirt brought from the hole with special care. Um-Foad, taking note of Rhialto’s attentiveness, became even more officious, often pushing Rhialto aside so that he might be first to inspect the siftings. The workmen, observing Um-Foad’s distraction, relaxed their efforts to such an extent that dirt arrived to the screen at ever longer intervals. Um-Foad at last took note of the situation and, running to the edge of the hole, set matters right. The workers, however, had lost the edge of their zeal. Yaa-Yimpe, complaining both of ague and lumbar spasms, refused to work under what he felt to be Rhialto’s niggardly dispositions. Climbing from the hole, he returned to the village.
Somewhat later, a young man came running out from the village and accosted Rhialto. “Yaa-Yimpe is somewhat deaf; he did not understand that you had offered gold coins in exchange for blue lightning-ice. He now wishes to inform you that he found a fragment of the stuff today. You may entrust the reward to me, his grandson; Yaa-Yimpe is too tired to come out himself, and also he is planning a feast.” The grandson, brisk and eager, with bright round eyes and a toothy grin, extended his hand.
Rhialto spoke crisply. “I must inspect this lightning-ice, to test its quality. Come, take me to Yaa-Yimpe.”
The young man scowled. “He does not wish to be irked with details; give me the gold coins now, as well as my gratuity.”
“Not another word!” thundered Rhialto. “At once! To the village!”
The young man sulkily led Rhialto to a house where festivities congratulating Yaa-Yimpe on the occasion of his reward were already in progress. Joints of meat turned on the spit and casks of wine had been broached. On a platform to the side six musicians played tankles, jigs and tyreens for the pleasure of the guests.
As Rhialto approached, Yaa-Yimpe himself, wearing only a pair of short loose pantaloons, emerged from the house. The company called out plaudits and the musicians struck up a lively quickstep. Yaa-Yimpe darted forward to dance a high-kicking saltarello, entailing quick rushing lunges back and forth, with thrust-forward belly shaking in double-time.
In his fervor Yaa-Yimpe jumped on the table, to perform a stamping arm-swinging hornpipe. Around his neck the Perciplex swung by a thong tied around its middle.
Yaa-Yimpe suddenly took note of Rhialto and jumped to the ground.
Rhialto spoke politely: “I am happy to find that your sufferings have been eased.”
“True! Notice the lightning-ice! You may now give me the twenty gold zikkos.”
Rhialto held out his hand. “Immediately, but let me inspect the prism!”
Hache-Moncour jumped forward from the side. “One moment! It is more appropriate that I take custody of this object! Here, sir! Your twenty gold zikkos!” Hache-Moncour flung the coins into Yaa-Yimpe’s ready hand, snatched the Perciplex and strode to the side.
Rhialto made a convulsive motion forward but Hache-Moncour cried out: “Stand back, Rhialto! I must study the authenticity of this object!” He held the prism up to the light. “As I expected: a shameless hoax! Rhialto, we have been misled!” Hache-Moncour flung the prism to the ground, pointed his finger; the object broke into a hundred gouts of blue fire and was gone.
Rhialto stared numbly at the scorched ground. Hache-Moncour spoke in a kindly voice: “Seek elsewhere, Rhialto, if you are so minded; your work is truly useful! If you discover another arrant forgery, or even if you suspect as much, call on me again for advice. I bid you good-day.” Hache-Moncour was gone as quickly as he had come, leaving Yaa-Yimpe and his guests staring open-mouthed.
Rhialto slowly returned to the excavation. Osherl stood in front of his hut, looking pensively off into the sky. Shalukhe the Swimmer sat cross-legged on a rug before the pavilion, eating grapes. Um-Foad came at the run from the excavation. “Rhialto, what are all these rumors?”
“I have no time for rumors,” said Rhialto. “Still, you may now halt the digging.”
“So soon? What of the Cloud-king’s lantern?”
