〃That's sad news； and if it's so； then I've e to the wrong house indeed。〃 Taleswapper could see that this truly wasn't the house for him。 Even if Armor relented and let him in； he would be surrounded by suspicion； and Taleswapper couldn't live where people looked sharp at him all the time。 〃Good day to you。〃
But Armor wasn't letting him go so easily。 He took Taleswapper's words as a challenge。 〃Why should it be sad？ I live a quiet； ordinary life。〃
〃No man's life is ordinary to himself；〃 said Taleswapper； 〃and if he says it is； then that's a story of the kind that I never tell。〃
〃You calling me a liar？〃 demanded Armor。
〃I'm asking if you know a place where my knack might be wele。〃
Taleswapper saw； though Armor didn't； how the wife did a calming with the fingers of her right hand； and held her husband's wrist with her left。 It was smoothly done； and the husband must have bee quite attuned to it； because he visibly relaxed as she stepped a bit forward to reply。 〃Friend；〃 she said； 〃if you take the track behind that hill yonder； and follow it to the end； over two brooks； both with bridges； you'll reach the house of Alvin Miller； and I know he'll take you in。〃
〃Ha；〃 said Armor。
〃Thank you；〃 said Taleswapper。 〃But how can you know such a thing？〃
〃They'll take you in for as long as you want to stay； and never turn you away； as long as you show willingness to help out。〃
〃Willing I always am； milady；〃 said Taleswapper。
〃Always willing？〃 said Armor。 〃Nobody's always willing。 I thought you always spoke true。〃
〃I always tell what I believe。 Whether it's true； I'm no more sure than any man。〃
〃Then how do you call me 'sir；' when I'm no knight； and call her 'milady；' when she's as mon as myself？〃
〃Why； I don't believe in the King's knightings； that's why。 He calls a man a knight because he owes him a favor； whether he's a true knight or not。 And all his mistresses are called 'ladies' for what they do between the royal sheets。 That's how the words are used among the Cavaliers lies half the time。 But your wife； sir； acted like a true lady； gracious and hospitable。 And you； sir； like a true knight； protecting your household against the dangers you most fear。〃
Armor laughed aloud。 〃You talk so sweet I bet you have to suck on salt for half an hour to get the taste of sugar out of your mouth。〃
〃It's my knack；〃 said Taleswapper。 〃But I have other ways to talk； and not sweetly； when the time is right。 Good afternoon to you； and your wife； and your children； and your Christian house。〃
Taleswapper walked out onto the grass of the cornmons。 The cows paid him no mind； because he did have a warding； though not of the sort that Armor would ever see。 Taleswapper sat in the sunlight for a little while； to let his brain get warm and see if it could e up with a thought。 But it didn't work。 Almost never had a thought worth having； after noon。 As the proverb said； 〃Think in the morning； Act in the noon； Eat in the evening； Sleep in the night。〃 Too late for thinking now。 Too early for eating。
He headed up the pathway to the church； which stood well back from the mons； atop a good…sized hill。 If I were a true prophet； he thought； I'd know things now。 I'd know whether I'd stay here for a day or a week or a month。 I'd know whether Armor would be my friend； as I hope； or my enemy； as I fear。 I'd know whether his wife would someday win herself free to use her powers in the open。 I'd know whether I'd ever meet this Red Prophet face to face。
But that was nonsense； he knew。 That was the sort of seeing that a torch would do he'd seen them doing it before； more than a few of them； and it filled him with dread； because it wasn't good； he knew； for a man to know too much of the path of his own life ahead。 No； for him the knack he wanted was prophecy； to see； not the small doings of men and women in their little corners of the world； but rather the great sweep of events as directed by God。 Or by Satan Taleswapper wasn't particular； since both of them had a good idea of what they planned to do in the world； and so either one was likely to know a few things about the future。 Of course； it was likely to be more pleasant to hear from God。 What traces of the devil he had touched so far in his life had all been painful； each in its own way。
The church door stood open； this being a warmish day for autumn； and Taleswapper buzzed right in along with the Ries。 It was as fine a church inside as out obviously Scottish rite； so it was plain but all the more cheerful for that； a bright and airy place； with whited walls and glass…paned windows。 Even the pews and pulpit were of light wood。 The only thing dark in the whole place was the altar。 So naturally his eye was drawn to it。 And； because he had a knack for this sort of thing； he saw traces of a liquid touch upon the surface of it。
He walked slowly toward the altar。 Toward it； because he had to know for sure； slowly； because this sort of thing ought not to be in a Christian church。 Up close； though； there was no mistaking。 It was the same trace he had seen on the face of the man in DeKane； who tortured his own children to death and blamed it on the Reds。 The same trace he had seen lingering on the sword that beheaded George Washington。 It was like a thin film of filthy water； invisible unless you looked at a certain angle； in a certain light。 But to Taleswapper it was always visible now he had an eye for it。
He reached out his hand and set his forefinger carefully on the clearest trace。 It took all his strength just to hold it there for a moment； it burned so； setting his whole arm to trembling and aching； right to the shoulder。
〃You're wele in God's house；〃 said a voice。
Taleswapper； sucking on his burnt finger； turned to face the speaker。 He was robed as a Scottish Rite preacher Presbyterian； they called them here in America。
〃You didn't get a splinter； did you？〃 asked the preacher。
It would have been easier just to say Yes； I got a splinter。 But Taleswapper only told stories he believed。
〃Preacher；〃 said Taleswapper； 〃the devil has set his hand upon this altar。〃
At once the preacher's lugubrious smile disappeared。 〃How do you know the devil's handprint？〃
〃It's a gift of God；〃 said Taleswapper。 〃To see。〃
The preacher looked at him closely； unsure whether or not to believe。 〃Then can you also tell where angels have touched？〃
〃I could see traces； I think； if goodly spirits had intervened。 I've seen such marks before。〃
The preacher paused； as if he wanted to ask a very important question but was afraid of the answer。 Then he shuddered； the desire to learn plainly fled from him； and the preacher spoke now with contempt。 〃Nonsense。 You can fool the mon people； but I was educated in England； and I am not deluded by talk of hidden powers。〃
〃Oh；〃 said Taleswapper。 〃You're an educated man。〃
〃And so are you； by your speech；〃 said the preacher。 〃The south of England； I would say。〃
〃The Lord Protector's Academy of Art；〃 said Taleswapper。 〃I was trained as an engraver。 Since you're Scottish rite； I daresay you've seen my work in your Sunday school book。〃
〃I never notice such things；〃 said the preacher。 〃Engravings are a waste of paper that could be given over to words of truth。 Unless they illustrate matters that the artist's eye has actually seen； like anatornies。 But what the artist conceives in his imagination has no better claim on my eyes than what I imagine for myself。〃
Taleswapper followed that notion to its root。 〃What if the artist were also a prophet？〃
The preacher half…closed his eyes。 〃The day of prophets is over。 Like that apostate heathen one…eyed drunken Red man； across the river； all who claim to be prophets now are charlatans。 And I have no doubt that if God granted the gift of prophecy even to one artist； we would soon have a surplus of sketchers and daubers wishing to be taken for prophets； especially if it would bring them better pay。〃
Taleswapper answered mildly； but he did not let the preacher's implicit accusation stand。 〃A man who preaches the word of God for a salary ought not to criticize others who seek to earn a living by revealing the truth。〃
〃I was ordained；〃 said the preacher。 〃No one ordains artists。 They ordain themselves。〃
Just as Taleswapper had expected。 The preacher retreated to authority as soon as he feared his ideas could not stand on their own merit。 Reasonable argument was impossible when authority became the arbiter； Taleswapper returned to the immediate matter。 〃The devil laid his fingers on this altar；〃 said Taleswapper。 〃It burned my finger to touch the place。〃
〃It never burned mine；〃 said the preacher。
〃I expect not；〃 said Taleswapper。 〃You were ordained。〃
Taleswapper made no effort to hide the scorn in his voice； and it plainly irked the preacher； who lashed back。 It did not bother Taleswapper when people got angry at him。 It meant they were listening； and at least half believing him。 〃Tell me； then； if you have such keen eyes；〃 said the preacher。 〃Tell me if a messenger from God has ever touched the altar。〃
Plainly the preacher regarded this question as a test。 Taleswapper had no idea