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"But I never heard that your old tutor could fly about on an enchanted broomstick, as some of the mightiest magicians are said to do."
     
                  "Belike he can't, but that is something Doctor Raspiudus would not know."
     
                  "Mean ye," said Jillo, "that ye've a mind to play Doctor Baldonius? Or to have me play him? The latter would never do—"
     
                  "I know, good my Jillo. You lack the learned patter proper to wizards and other philosophers."
     
                  "Won't Raspiudus recognize you, sir? As ye say, he's a shrewd old villain."
     
                  "He's seen me but once, in that dark, dank cell, and that for a mere quarter-hour. Methinks I can disguise myself well enough to befool him—unless you have a better notion."
     
                  "Alack, I have none! Then what part shall I play?"
     
                  "I had thought of going in alone—"
     
                  "Nay, sir; dismiss the thought! Me, let my master risk his mortal body and immortal soul in a witch's lair without my being there to help him—"
     
                  "If you help me the way you did by touching off that firearm whilst our dragon was out of range—"
     
                  "Ah, but who threw the torch and saved us in the end? Besides, a man of the good doctor's standing would not travel about without an attendant or servant. What disguise shall I wear?"
     
                  "Since Raspiudus knows you not, there's no need for any. You shall be Baldonius' servant as you are mine."
     
                  "Ye forget, sir," said Jillo, "that if Raspiudus know me not, his gatekeepers might. Forsooth, they're like to recall me because of the noisy protests I made when they barred me out."
     
                  "Hm. Well, you're too old for a page, too lank for a bodyguard, and too unlearned for a wizard's assistant. I have it! You shall go as my concubine!"
     
                  "Oh, Heaven above, sir, not that! I am a normal man! I should never live it down!"
     
                  Eudoric smiled. "Then each of us shall have a hold on the other. If you'll hold your tongue on events wherein I have appeared in less than heroic light, I will keep mum about your disguise."
     
                  To the massive gate before Raspiudus' house came Eudoric, with a patch over one eye and his beard, uncut for a month, bleached white. A white wig cascaded down from under his hat. He presented a note, in a plausible imitation of Baldonius' hand, to the gatekeeper:
     
                  Doctor Baldonius of Treveria presents his compliments to his old friend and colleague Doctor Raspiudus of Velitchovo, and begs the favor of an audience, to discuss the apparent disappearance of two young protégés of his.
     
                  A pace behind, stooping to disguise his stature, slouched a rouged and powdered Jillo in woman's dress. If Jillo was a homely man, he made a hideous woman, at least as far as his face could be discerned beneath the head cloth. Nor was his beauty enhanced by the dress, whch Eudoric had stitched together out of tacky cloth. The garment looked like what it was: the work of a rank amateur at dressmaking.
     
                  "My master begs you to enter," said the gatekeeper.
     
                  "Why, dear old Baldonius!" cried Raspiudus, rubbing his hands together. "Ye've not changed a mite since those glad, mad days at Saalingen! Do ye still string verses?"
     
                  "Betimes. Ye've withstood the ravages of time well yourself, Raspiudus," said Eudoric in an imitation of Baldonius' voice. He added:
     
     
    "As fly the years, the geese fly north in spring;
    Ah, would the years, like geese, return awing!"
     
    -
     
                  Raspiudus roared with