"H'm," assented Peter, "there's something in that."

"There's a great deal in that," said the demon. "You must have
an excuse up your sleeve, a pretext. A true excuse is a fine
thing in its way; but when you come to a serious emergency, an
alternative false excuse is indispensable."

"H'm," said Peter.

However, if there are demons in the atmosphere, there are gods
in the machine--(Paraschkine even goes so far as to maintain
that
there are more gods in the machine than have ever been taken
from it.") While Peter stood still, pondering the demon's
really rather cogent intervention, his eye was caught by
something that glittered in the grass at the roadside.

"The Cardinal's snuff-box," he exclaimed, picking it up.

The Cardinal had dropped his snuff-box. Here was an excuse,
and to spare. Peter rang the bell.




XXIV


And, like the lady in the ballad, sure enough, she greeted his
arrival with a glance of cold surprise.