18. Do Not Play With Daggers

“To my great regret, your Highness, I do not know it,” answered the singer.

“What a pity,” said the amiable lord, “it would have amused these ladies. Women ‘have a liking for notorious scamps.”

Méphodiévna, from the distance where she was, cast so proud a glance upon him, that he dropped his eyes and a slight blush colored his cheek for a moment.

“Your théorbe is very curious,” said the Russian to the singer, in order to change the conversation. “It is not a common instrument. You really have a very pretty théorbe there. I would like to see it nearer. Pass it to me, old man.”

“Here it is, your Highness,” answered the old singer, presenting it to him. “Look at it well, examine it, and you will see that it is a real treasure.”

The Russian, laughing a good deal, drew some discordant sounds from the primitive instrument, then seated himself on a step of the terrace a little above the singer, and said again: “A very pretty théorbe indeed!”

While pretending to admire the théorbe he scarcely looked at it, but was observing, without letting it be seen, the owner of the famous instrument. But the proprietor of the théorbe, though a man excessively modest, to judge by appearances, did not seem to be disturbed by these indiscreet glances, no, not at all.

With all the respect due to a person of such high rank, but without embarrassment, without being confused, he explained to his highness the mechanism of the théorbe. One might have even said that these explanations, in place of making him confused or timid, amused him very much.

“Do you know that this object of art, if you will sell it, will bring you sufficient money to give you a long rest.”

“I know it,” answered the singer, “but the good musician parts with his théorbe, when he loves it, no more than the cavalier parts with his horse. In being poor one is not forbidden to have a taste for beautiful things. My clothes are not worth much, your Highness, but I have been offered more than once, for my théorbe, sufficient to dress myself in as magnificent garments as yours, and I refused.”

“He understands,” said the Russian to himself, “how to set a value on his goods; it is to sell it at a better price that he pretends to know the worth of it.”

The beggar drew nearer.

“Since you are a connoisseur,” said he, “examine the instrument at your leisure. Certainly, it would be more in its place in the hands of these rich ladies than in mine, nevertheless it is in mine that it will remain.”

“I see your cunning,” thought the Russian; “ you are a shrewd fellow, you hope to force me to buy it, and think that at this very moment I am going to offer you a large sum for the pleasure of laying your théorbe at the feet of the beautiful Méphodiévna. You may deceive others, but not me, sly old fellow!” “Then,” said he, “this is your treasure, your fortune?”

“The théorbe, and this also, my lord.”