"Allow me the pen--I shall want it," said the master. "Well?"

"Louis the-er-Saint was-was-a very good and wise king."

"What?"

"King, He took it into his head to go to Jerusalem, and handed over the
reins of government to his mother."

"What was her name?

"B-b-b-lanka."

"What? Belanka?"

I laughed in a rather forced manner.

"Well, is that all you know?" he asked again, smiling.

I had nothing to lose now, so I began chattering the first thing that
came into my head. The master remained silent as he gathered together
the remains of the pen which I had left strewn about the table, looked
gravely past my ear at the wall, and repeated from time to time, "Very
well, very well." Though I was conscious that I knew nothing whatever
and was expressing myself all wrong, I felt much hurt at the fact that
he never either corrected or interrupted me.

"What made him think of going to Jerusalem?" he asked at last, repeating
some words of my own.