bble aforesaid, but certain it is
that within the next few seconds decorum once more prevailed as if magic
had called it forth.

Mynheer Beek heaved a sigh of relief.

"All that you said just now was well spoken, sir," broke in a firm voice
which proceeded from a group of gentlemen who sat at a table next to the
one occupied by the philosophers and their friends, "but 'twere
interesting to hear what you propose doing on the second day of this New
Year."

Diogenes was in no hurry to reply. The man who had just spoken sat
directly behind him, and Bucephalus--so it seemed--still required his
close attention. When he had once more replaced his faithful friend into
its delicately wrought scabbard he turned leisurely round and from the
elevated position which he still occupied on the corner of the table he
faced his interlocutor.

"What I propose doing?" he quoth politely.

"Why yes. You said just now that for four and twenty hours you were free
to dream and to act as you will, but how will it be to-morrow?"

"To-morrow, sir," rejoined Diogenes lightly, "I shall be as poor in
pocket as the burghers of Haarlem are in wits, and then...."

"Yes? and then?"

"Why then, sir, I shall once more become an integral portion of that
rabble to which you and your friends think no doubt that I rightly
belong. I shall not have one silver coin in my wallet and in order to
obtain a handful I shall be ready to sell my soul to the devil, my skin
to the Stadtholder...."

"And your honour, sir?" queried the other with a sneer, "to whom will
you sell that precious guerdon to-morrow?"

"To you, sir," retorted Diogenes promptly, "an you are short of the
commodity."

An angry word rose to the other man's lips, but his eyes encountered
those of his antagonist and something in the latter's look, something in
the mocking eyes, the merry face, seemed to disarm him and to quench his
wrath. He even laughed good-humouredly and said:

"Well spoken, sir. You had me fairly there with the point of your
tongue. No doubt you are equally skilful with the point of your
rapier...."

"It shall be at your service after to-morrow, sir," rejoined Diogenes
lightly.

"You live by the profession of arms, sir? No offence, 'tis a noble
calling, though none too lucrative I understand."

"My wits supply, sir, what my sword cannot always command."

"You are ambitious?"

"I told my friends just now wherein lay my ambition."

"Money--an independent compet