A moment later Um-Foad took Rhialto aside. "Since the subject has come up, you may now pay me an instalment of ten gold zikkos against my costs to date, along with another five zikkos in settlement of licensing fees. Let us say twenty gold zikkos in all."

"Five must suffice."

Um-Foad at last accepted the coins. "I am puzzled by one of your phrases. You spoke to the workmen of 'one gold zikko, in true coin.' What, precisely, do you imply by use of the word 'true'?"

Rhialto made a negligent gesture. "Merely a mode of speaking—a touch of hyperbole, if you will—to express our reverence for such a gold coin."

"An interesting usage." said Um-Foad. "Nevertheless, quite clear and commendable. . . . Now then! Who is this odd fellow, who comes sauntering across my property like Pululias, Friend of the Oak Trees?"

Rhialto looked around to where a tall handsome man with chestnut curls and graceful mannerisms stood casually inspecting the excavation. Rhialto said shortly: "I know the gentleman slightly; he has probably come to pay his respects. Hache-Moncour! Are you not far from your usual haunts?"

"Yes, in some degree." Hache-Moncour turned away from the hole and approached. "The excellent Sarsem mentioned that you were indulging your fancies in these parts and since I had a trifle of other business along the way, I decided to pay my respects. You have dug a fine hole yonder, though I cannot divine its purpose here in this reprehensible landscape."

Um-Foad retorted sharply: "Rhialto is a famous savant and student of antiquities; this landscape, of which you are making salutary use, is a parcel of my private acreage."

"You must forgive me my trespass. I envy you a property so notable! Rhialto is indeed a scholar of wide fame. ... I will be moving along. It has been pleasant chatting with you both."

Hache-Moncour strolled off behind Osherl's cottage and disappeared from view.

"A most curious fellow!" declared Um-Foad. "Surely you do not number him among your intimates?"

"An acquaintance, only."

From behind the shairo trees flanking Osherl's cottage floated an almost invisible bubble. Rhialto watched with a frown as the bubble drifted over the hole and hung motionless.

"Still," said Rhialto, "Hache-Moncour is a man of sensitive perceptions and many extraordinary talents."

"He was notably fast on his feet when I hinted at a fee for his trespass. Yes, what have we here?" This to one of the diggers who had approached with an earthenware bowl. "Rhialto, here is the lantern! I claim your reward."

Rhialto examined the object. "This is no lantern; it is a child's porridge bowl, no doubt flung overboard during a tantrum. Notice the quaint scenes depicted in the base of the bowl. Here we have a flantic flying to its lair with a baby gripped in its claws. Here a pouncing langomir devours a somewhat older child, while here, aboard this ship, a small girl is being dragged overboard by a parrot-headed sea-monster. An interesting find, but neither lightning-ice nor lantern."