On the morning after his visit to the Fircone Tavern King Louis sat
in his rose garden and snuffed the scented air with pleasure, while
his keen eyes shifted from a scroll of parchment on his knee to the
face of one who stood beside him, and spoke in a low voice, pointing
as he spoke to marks and figures on the outspread parchment. The
king's companion was an old man in a furred gown, whose countenance
was seamed with years and study, and whose eyes seemed always to be
gazing at objects that others could not see. In his right hand he
held a large sphere of crystal, and whenever the king lapsed into
silent study of his scroll the sage would lift the shining globe and
gaze into its glassy depths with an air of exaggerated wisdom.
From one of these moments of abstraction the king suddenly looked
up, and immediately the astrologer's glance swung from the sphere to
the face of Louis.
"You know the aspect of the planetary bodies," said the king, "and
you know of the strange dream that I have dreamed three nights
running."
The sage inclined his head gravely. The king had told him of the
dream in all its particulars at least a dozen times that morning.
Pages:
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92