“Such cases,” he announced, “are always a possible gesheft; nothing makes money like information. It occurred in Legnica. Six years ago. Miss Wiryda Hornig, a merchant’s daughter, was walking out with an apothecary by the name of Gałązka. Against her father’s will, who had promised her hand to somebody else. And that other man reputedly had connexions with the Inquisition, with the Holy Office. And Miss Wiryda suddenly vanished.

“The apothecary Gałązka was denounced,” continued the Jew, “accused of heresy and had to flee from Silesia. After a year, when the case had quietened down, Wiryda suddenly reappeared, most remorseful and most obedient, quite as though she had been in a nunnery. She meekly married the man she had been promised to.

“Nu, in the Qahal we thought it was worth knowing who this man was, who had such good connexions with the Office as to cause young women to disappear. And it somehow came out that Moishe Merkelin, my sister-in-law’s cousin, knew a certain Yochai ben Icchak, and that Yochai’s uncle, a certain Shekel, had a stepdaughter called Debora, and she found out from her friend Ester a certain thing, which Ester had heard in the women’s chamber from… Dammit, I’ve forgotten who. It doesn’t matter, in any case. The important thing is that this cousin Moishe, an avaricious and impudent Jew, demanded fifteen guilders for the information. I considered it excessive.”

“Ah.”

“But you came to my aid, which somewhat changes the scale of values. Now this fifteen isn’t that fifteen, it’s quite a different fifteen, it’s a fifteen transformed beyond recognition. Now that price is quite perfect. And that avaricious cousin Moishe doesn’t live in Palestine. He lives in Opole. By Moses, in five days you’ll have your information. And until then: be my guest.”

“Thanks, Rabbi. And regarding those fifteen guilders, I’m prepared—”

“Don’t insult me, laddie.”

“I shan’t wait with you,” said Tybald Raabe, hesitantly clearing his throat, “it’s time I went, duty calls. But just let me say… If you find out what you need to find out, make haste. Make great haste. I think—”

“And I think,” said Rixa, looking him in the eyes, “that you ought to stop fibbing and tell us the truth.”

“I don’t know anything,” replied the goliard quickly, too quickly to be credible. Then avoided Reynevan’s gaze.

“Tybald,” Reynevan said slowly. “Last night we stood shoulder to shoulder, we looked death in the eyes together. And now you hide something from me? You knew my brother. You know me, you even vouched for me not long ago. You know I’m moving around Silesia, risking my life because my beloved is in need, I have to find and free her. She is imprisoned, and every day of captivity adds to her torment—”