deliberately exploited
the presumptive insult to let an acid tone enter his voice. "Shall we
speak of your collection? Shall we for example discuss the fact that it
contains not merely your Saxon and Irish and Norse antiques, but also
Moorish, Oriental, and other items I fail to recognise?"
At a loss, Don Arcimboldo said, "Why, certainly it does, but -- "
"In short, your taste is more eclectic than I was led to believe."
Don Miguel set his glass aside, not looking at the other man directly.
"Which makes it surprising that you did not keep the Aztec mask, having
bought it. Tell me, why did you give it to the Marquesa, Don Arcimboldo?"
His host's face darkened. "It is unseemly to pry into such personal matters!"
"I have no choice. I have a commission to fulfil, under the orders of the
Prince of New Castile."
"Your behaviour is ungracious and unmannerly nonetheless! However, I will
answer -- if you'll give me good grounds for requiring the information."
Don Miguel rose from his chair and walked, glass in hand, towards a display
of fine Saxon torcs and belt-buckles in hammered! gold, many of the latter
set with garnets. Not looking in Don Arcimboldo's direction, he said, "You
must have had a reason for adding so hugely to your debt to Higgins. It
can hardly have been a moment's whim which led you almost to double your
already long-outstanding obligations."
There was no immediate reply. When Don Miguel turned away from the antiques
he was admiring, he found that Don Arcimboldo had drawn a delicately
wrought silver chain from a pouch at his belt, with a little pendant on
the bottom of some sort of glittering crystal, and was letting it swing
from his fingers as though suddenly very nervous.
"I suppose you took possession of Higgins's records," he muttered
eventually. "But the cold figures give a misleading impression,
I assure you. There was no reason for him to doubt my credit. After all,
I'm far from being a poor man."
"Indeed?" said Don Miguel glacially.
"What do you mean?" Don Arcimboldo flushed and bridled, though the swinging
chain did not vary its pendulum-like motion. "Do you think that this place
around you is the home of a pauper?"
"Yes."
The single sharp word seemed to drain much of the spirit out of Don
Arcimboldo. He gave a sigh. "I yield, I yield . . . There is a grain
of truth in what you say, for of late my estates in Scotland have not
provided me with as much as they used to. Accordingly I will tell you
why I gave the mask to the Marquesa. I hoped that she would loan me a
sum to rescue me from my temporary -- temporary! -- difficulties."
The chain went on swinging. There was silence. Don Miguel allowed the
silence to stretch. And, after a little while, Don Arcimboldo's
self-possession began to fray. He looked first puzzled, then alarmed.
When the alarm was acute enough, Don Miguel spoke out.
"It's no use. Don Arcimboldo! Before coming here I spent a long while in
conversation with an inquisitor who is expert in matters of the mind.
I have taken an antidote to the sort of thing you gave me in this very
good wine. So you cannot lull my brain with your swinging crystal and
wheedle me into forgetfulness -- as you served Higgins!"
The last phrase cracked like the lash of a whip. Don Arcimboldo let fall
his hands; white-faced he whimpered, "I swear I do not understand!"
"Your oath is false. You understand me well. What has happened went
like this. The temptation to join fortunate outsiders who have voyaged
illegally into the past grew too strong for you to resist, but in order
to bribe the corrupt Licentiate who made your journey possible you were
compelled to overspend your income. Consequently you ran up a debt with
Higgins -- an undignified situation! Doubtless he pestered you for his
money, and you feared he might warn the other merchants in the market
that you were defaulting on a bill. Presumably -- for you are not at
bottom a stupid man -- your original
the presumptive insult to let an acid tone enter his voice. "Shall we
speak of your collection? Shall we for example discuss the fact that it
contains not merely your Saxon and Irish and Norse antiques, but also
Moorish, Oriental, and other items I fail to recognise?"
At a loss, Don Arcimboldo said, "Why, certainly it does, but -- "
"In short, your taste is more eclectic than I was led to believe."
Don Miguel set his glass aside, not looking at the other man directly.
"Which makes it surprising that you did not keep the Aztec mask, having
bought it. Tell me, why did you give it to the Marquesa, Don Arcimboldo?"
His host's face darkened. "It is unseemly to pry into such personal matters!"
"I have no choice. I have a commission to fulfil, under the orders of the
Prince of New Castile."
"Your behaviour is ungracious and unmannerly nonetheless! However, I will
answer -- if you'll give me good grounds for requiring the information."
Don Miguel rose from his chair and walked, glass in hand, towards a display
of fine Saxon torcs and belt-buckles in hammered! gold, many of the latter
set with garnets. Not looking in Don Arcimboldo's direction, he said, "You
must have had a reason for adding so hugely to your debt to Higgins. It
can hardly have been a moment's whim which led you almost to double your
already long-outstanding obligations."
There was no immediate reply. When Don Miguel turned away from the antiques
he was admiring, he found that Don Arcimboldo had drawn a delicately
wrought silver chain from a pouch at his belt, with a little pendant on
the bottom of some sort of glittering crystal, and was letting it swing
from his fingers as though suddenly very nervous.
"I suppose you took possession of Higgins's records," he muttered
eventually. "But the cold figures give a misleading impression,
I assure you. There was no reason for him to doubt my credit. After all,
I'm far from being a poor man."
"Indeed?" said Don Miguel glacially.
"What do you mean?" Don Arcimboldo flushed and bridled, though the swinging
chain did not vary its pendulum-like motion. "Do you think that this place
around you is the home of a pauper?"
"Yes."
The single sharp word seemed to drain much of the spirit out of Don
Arcimboldo. He gave a sigh. "I yield, I yield . . . There is a grain
of truth in what you say, for of late my estates in Scotland have not
provided me with as much as they used to. Accordingly I will tell you
why I gave the mask to the Marquesa. I hoped that she would loan me a
sum to rescue me from my temporary -- temporary! -- difficulties."
The chain went on swinging. There was silence. Don Miguel allowed the
silence to stretch. And, after a little while, Don Arcimboldo's
self-possession began to fray. He looked first puzzled, then alarmed.
When the alarm was acute enough, Don Miguel spoke out.
"It's no use. Don Arcimboldo! Before coming here I spent a long while in
conversation with an inquisitor who is expert in matters of the mind.
I have taken an antidote to the sort of thing you gave me in this very
good wine. So you cannot lull my brain with your swinging crystal and
wheedle me into forgetfulness -- as you served Higgins!"
The last phrase cracked like the lash of a whip. Don Arcimboldo let fall
his hands; white-faced he whimpered, "I swear I do not understand!"
"Your oath is false. You understand me well. What has happened went
like this. The temptation to join fortunate outsiders who have voyaged
illegally into the past grew too strong for you to resist, but in order
to bribe the corrupt Licentiate who made your journey possible you were
compelled to overspend your income. Consequently you ran up a debt with
Higgins -- an undignified situation! Doubtless he pestered you for his
money, and you feared he might warn the other merchants in the market
that you were defaulting on a bill. Presumably -- for you are not at
bottom a stupid man -- your original
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