But
are good and evil all one to you of the Leshy?"
"Why should we tell you, Manuel?" says the magician.
"That, Miramon, is a musty reply."
"It is not a reply, it is a question. And the question has become musty
because it has been handled so often, and no man has ever been able to
dispose of it."
Manuel gave it up, and shrugged. "Well, let us conquer as we may, so
that God be on our side."
Miramon replied: "Never fear! He shall be, in every shape and
attribute."
So Miramon did what was requisite, and from the garrets and dustheaps of
Vraidex came strong allies. For, to begin with, Miramon dealt unusually
with a little fish, and as a result of these dealings came to them,
during the afternoon of the last Thursday in September, as they stood on
the seashore north of Manneville, a darkly colored champion clad in
yellow. He had four hands, in which he carried a club, a shell, a lotus
and a discus; and he rode upon a stallion whose hide glittered like new
silver.
Manuel said, "This is a good omen, that the stallion of Poictesme should
have aid brought to it by yet another silver stallion.
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