I have often doubted that you are a burgher maiden, but there my knowledge ceases; and I am willing that it should so remain till you see fit to enlighten me." "There is little knowledge in doubt," said Yolanda, with a nervous laugh, "though a doubt usually precedes wisdom." Although I was looking at my horse's ears, I could see the light of her eyes as she watched me inquiringly.

After a long pause she stroked her horse's mane with her whip, and said, musingly:-- "A man should seek to know only the languages, philosophy, and other useful learning.

Useless knowledge has cost many a man his head." After a long pause she turned to me with a broad smile:-- "But it is usually not dangerous so long as it does not lodge in the tongue." I replied quickly:-- "Fraeulein, when my tongue makes a fool of me, I pray God I may lose it." "God save all fools by a like fate," she answered.
I was sure she did not mean to include me in the category of fools.
This conversation revealed to me two facts: first, I learned that by some means--possibly the ring Max wore--this girl, Yolanda, whoever she might be, knew Max.

Second, I discovered in myself a dangerous propensity to talk, and of all sure roads to ruin the tongue is the surest.

A man's vanity prompts him to be witty; hatred prompts him to cut his enemy, and his love of truth often prompts him to speak it at the wrong time.