"I am pleased to meet you!" said the ponderous fellow, extending his hand. "Beware," I said to Marcus, "or he will have your wallet!"

"Here is yours," said the fellow, handing mine back to me.

"That was neatly done," I said. I was genuinely impressed. "Is there anything left in it?"

"Almost everything," said the fellow.

Gingerly, standing back, Marcus extended his hand.

The ponderous fellow seized it and shook it vigorously. It was Marcus' sword hand. I trusted it would not be injured. We might have need of it.

"How did you know where to find me?" asked the ponderous fellow.

"Inquiries, and a couple of silver tarsks, at the theater," I said.

"It is good to know one has friends," he said.

"Do you do your wonders by magic or trickery?" asked Marcus.

"Most often by trickery," said the fellow, "but sometimes, I admit, when I am tired, or do not wish to take the time and trouble required for tricks, by magic."

"See!" said Marcus to me, triumpantly.

"Really, Marcus," I said.

"It is as I told you!" he insisted.

"If you would like a demonstration," said the large fellow, solicitously, " I could consider turning you into a draft tharlarion."

Marcus turned white.

"Only temporarily, of course," the fellow assured him.

Marcus took another step back.

"Do not fear," I said to Marcus. "There is not enough room in the hall for a draft tharlarion."

"You are as practical as ever!" said the large fellow, delightedly. Then he turned to Marcus. "When a wagon would be stuck in the mud, it was always he who would first discover it! When there wasn't enough to eat, it would be he who would be the first to notice!"

I did have a good appetite, of course.

"I do not wish to be turned into a draft tharlarion," said Marcus.

"Not even temporarily?" I urged.

"No!" said Marcus.

"Have no fear," said the fellow. "I couldn't do that if I wished."

"But you saida€”," said Marcus.

"I said I could consider turning you into a draft tharlarion," he said, "and that is quite easy to do, considering such a matter. The difficulty arises in accomplishing it."

"Am I mocked?" asked Marcus.

"Actually his name is "Marcus'," I said.

Marcus regarded me, startled.

"I see that your wit is as sharp as ever!" said the ponderous fellow.

"Thank you," I said. I thought the sally had been deft. I am not sure Marcus knew what to do in the presence of two such fellows as we.

"And what do you do?" the fellow asked Marcus. "Do you juggle, do you walk a tightrope? Our friend, Tarl here was excellent at clinging to a wire with great tenacity. It was one of his best tricks."

It was not my fault if I were no Lecchio.

"I am of the warriors," said Marcus.

"How unfortunate," said the fellow, "our military roles are all filled. We already have our captain, our imperious general, and two spearmen."

"I am not an actor," said Marcus.

"That has never been essential for success on the stage," he was assured. It might be noted also, of course, that unusual talent did not guarantee success either. For example, I had not been notably successful on the stage.

"Consider the fabulous Milo," said the fellow to Marcus.

Marcus looked at me, with a malicious grin. He did not much approve of Milo. Or perhaps it would be more correct to say that he did not much approve of Phoebe's approving of him.

"I think Milo is an excellent actor," I said.

"You see?" asked the fellow of Marcus.

"Yes," said Marcus.

"Did you see him in the pageant about Lurius of Jad?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "It was on the basis of that performance that my opinion was formed."

"I see," I said. How ugly, I though, professional jealousy can be.

"Milo," he said, "has the flexibility, the range, the nuance of a block of wood!"

"Most folks fine him impressive," I said.

"So is the fountain of Hesius," said the fellow, "but it can't act either."

"He is thought to be the most handsome man in Ar," I said. "Or among the most handsome," I added, reflectively.

"Your qualification is judicious," said the fellow.

"Certainly," said Marcus, apparently also giving the matter some thought. I said nothing more then, modestly. Nor, as I recall, did they.

"Have you lost any Home Stones lately?" the fellow asked Marcus.

Marcus' eyes blazed.

"Beware," I said. "Marcus is a touchy fellow, and he is not over fond of those of Ar."

"He does not know what noble, good-hearted, jolly fellows we are," said the large fellow.

"Why have you changed your name?" I asked.

"There are various warrants out for me," he said. "By changing my name that gives the local guardsmen on Show Street an excuse for taking my bribes with a good conscience."

"The others, too, have changed their names?" I said.

"For now," he said.

"His Litsia was once "Telitsia'," I said to Marcus.

"That is not much of a change," he said.

"But then she had not changed much," said the large fellow.

"Litsia', in any case, is a shortened form of "Telitsia'. It would not be unusual to take a name such as "Telitsia' which is most often a free woman's name and give it a shortened form, a more familiar form, perhaps one more fitting for a well-curved, delicious slave animal. The names of slaves, of course, may be given and taken away at will, as the names of other sorts of animals.

"It is my hope that I can be of service to you," said the fellow. "But unfortunately as we are not now on the move, there is little current scope available for the exercise of your special talents."

"What special talents?" asked Marcus.

"He can lift a wagon single-handedly on his back," said the fellow. "He can thrust in the pegs of a temporary stage with the heel of his hand!"

"He jests merrily," I informed Marcus. It was not that I could not do such things, depending on the weight of the wagon and the various ratios involved, those of the diameters of pegs and holes, and such, but I did not want Marcus to get the wrong impression. I did not wish him to think that my theatrical talents might be limited to such genre of endeavor.

"But nonetheless," he said, "we are eager that you should share our kettle, and for as long as you wish."

"Thank you," I said.

"The others, too, will be delighted to see you," he said. "For example, Andronicus complains frequently of the burdens of manual labor."

"I can imagine," I said. Andronicus was a sensitive fellow, with a delicate sense of what was fitting and unfitting for an actor of his quality. He had been one of the bearers of the palanquin. The others had been Petrucchio, Lecchio and Chino. Also, in spite of his considerable stature, he regarded himself as somewhat frail. Were I a member of the troupe I had no doubt but what he might have been persuaded to step aside, withdrawing from the role of bearer in my favor. I think I could have pulled it off. The ponderous fellow had once assured me that he had seldom seen anyone do that sort of thing as well.

"You will come up?" asked the fellow. "And the knave from Ar's Station, home of traitors and cowards, is welcome as well, of course."

"Back, Marcus!" I said. "No," I said. "Our renewed acquaintance must be kept secret from the others."

"But surely you wish to hide out with us?" said the ponderous fellow.

"No," I said.

"The authorities are seeking you?"

"Not exactly," I said.

"We could conceal you," he said. "We have all sorts of boxes and trunks which could serve the purpose quite well."

Marcus shuddered.

"No," I said.

"You are not fleeing from authorities?"

"No," I said.

"This is a social visit?" he asked.

"Not really," I said.

"Business?"

"Yes," I said.

"Secret business?"