only not this. Your best plan is to lay it all on the shoulders of
Hananja, the thaumaturgist; we have owed him a grudge this many a day.
However, I was not to teach you any lesson, for your wits are at least a
match for ours."

"Flattery will not win me," the woman broke in. "Where is the gold?"

Castor handed her the solidi wrapped in a papyrus leaf, and then added:

"Stay one moment! I must remove this white robe. The girl must on no
account recognize me. I am going to force my way into the house with
you--you found me in the street, an old man, a total stranger, and
appealed to me for help. No harm is done, nothing lost but Dorothea's
credit among the Christians. We may have to get her safe out of the
town. I must escort you and Agatha, for nothing unpleasant must happen
to her on the way home. The master is imperative on that point, and so
much beauty will certainly not get through the crowded streets without
remark. And for my part, I, of course, am thinking of yours."

Here Castor laughed aloud, and rolled the white robe into a bundle.
Alexander peeped out of his nook and shook his head in amazement, for
the supple youth, who a moment before stood stalwart and upright, had
assumed, with a bent attitude and a long, white beard hastily placed on
his chin, the aspect of a weary, poor old man.

"I will give you a lesson!" muttered Alexander to himself, and he shook
his fist at the intriguing rascal as he vanished into the house with the
false deaconess.

So Serapion was a cheat! And the supposed ghost of Korinna was a