confined in the conservatory in her house."

The effect of the announcement upon Keyork was so extraordinary that
the Wanderer started, not being prepared for any manifestation of what
seemed to be the deepest emotion. The gnome sprang from the table with a
cry that would have been like the roar of a wounded wild beast if it had
not articulated a terrific blasphemy.

"Unorna is quite safe," the Wanderer hastened to say.

"Safe--where?" shouted the little man, his hands already on his furs.
The Individual, too, had sprung across the room like a cat and was
helping him. In five seconds Keyork would have been out of the house.

"In a convent. I took her there, and saw the gate close behind her."

Keyork dropped his furs and stood still a moment. The Individual, always
unmoved, rearranged the coat and cap neatly in their place, following
all his master's movements, however, with his small eyes. Then the sage
broke out in a different strain. He flung his arms round the Wanderer's
body and attempted to embrace him.

"You have saved my life!--the curse of the three black angels on you for
not saying so first!" he cried in an agony of ecstasy. "Preserver! What
can I do for you?--Saviour of my existence, how can I repay you! You
shall live forever, as I will; you shall have all my secrets; the gold
spider shall spin her web in your dwelling; the Part of Fortune shall
shine on your path, it shall rain jewels on your roof; and your winter
shall have snows of pearls--you shall--"

"Good Heavens! Keyork," interrupted the Wanderer. "Are you mad? What is
the matter with you?"

"Mad? The matter? I love you! I worship you! I adore you! You have saved
her life, and you have saved mine; you have almost killed me with fright
and joy in two moments, you have--"

"Be sensible, Keyork. Unorna is quite safe, but we must do something
about Kafka and--"

The rest of his speech was drowned in another shout from the gnome,
ending in a portentous peal of laughter. He had taken his glass again
and was toasting himself.

"To Keyork, to his long life, to his happiness!" he cried. Then he
wet his lips again in the golden juice, and the Individual, unmoved,
presented him with a second napkin.

The wine seemed to steady him, and he sat down again in his place.

"Come!" he said. "Let us eat first. I have an amazing appetite, and
Israel Kafka can wait."

"Do you think so? Is it safe?" the Wanderer asked.

"Perfectly," returned Keyork, gro