rved to set off his superior massiveness.

Tito darkened the doorway with a very different outline, standing in
silence, since it was useless to speak until Niccolo should deign to
pause and notice him. That was not until the smith had beaten the head
of an axe to the due sharpness of edge and dismissed it from his anvil.
But in the meantime Tito had satisfied himself by a glance round the
shop that the object of which he was in search had not disappeared.

Niccolo gave an unceremonious but good-humoured nod as he turned from
the anvil and rested his hammer on his hip.

"What is it, Messer Tito? Business?"

"Assuredly, Niccolo; else I should not have ventured to interrupt you
when you are working out of hours, since I take that as a sign that your
work is pressing."

"I've been at the same work all day--making axes and spear-heads. And
every fool that has passed my shop has put his pumpkin-head in to say,
`Niccolo, wilt thou not come and see the King of France and his
soldiers?' and I've answered, `No: I don't want to see their faces--I
want to see their backs.'"

"Are you making arms for the citizens, then, Niccolo, that they may have
something better than rusty scythes and spits in case of an uproar?"

"We shall see. Arms are good, and Florence is likely to want them. The
Frate tells us we shall get Pisa again, and I hold with the Frate; but I
should be glad to know how the promise is to be fulfilled, if we don't
get plenty of good weapons forged? The Frate sees a long way before
him; that I believe. But he doesn't see birds caught with winking at
them, as some of our people try to make out. He sees sense, and not
nonsense. But you're a bit of a Medicean, Messer Tito Melema. Ebbene!
so I've been myself in my time, before the cask began to run sour.
What's your business?"

"Simply to know the price of that fine coat of mail I saw hanging up
here the other day. I want to buy it for a certain personage who needs
a protection of that sort under his doublet."

"Let him come and buy it himself, then," said Niccolo, bluntly. "I'm
rather nice about what I sell, and whom I sell to. I like to know who's
my customer."

"I know your scruples, Niccolo. But that is only defensive armour: it
can hurt nobody."

"True: but it may make the man who wears it feel himself all the safer
if he should want to hurt somebody. No, no; it's not my own work; but
it's fine work of Maso of Brescia; I should be loth for i