ers, and tight to the scalp a skull-cap of black velvet. A patriarchal board, abundant and silver-white, streame

ular apparition in wonder. The old man folded his arms

e at the uninvited stranger. And yet

Eastern dervish in a melodrama, and have you come here to play a practical joke? I

Achmet the

me in-come in. Astrologer or demon, or whatever you are, you look too old a man to be abroad such a night, when we would not turn an enemy's dog

name and a princely inheritance, you

you know of the even

olog

use I am an astrologer. I read the stars, and I lift the veil of the

d laughed a cynical

teady tones, "and yet there was no one to tell me on my way here that a s

the clock, his dark eyes fixed

accustomed to derision, and it does not offend me. Let me prove my power, so that even the most resolute skeptic dare doubt no longer. Judge of my skill to read the future by my ability in reading th

Jasper d

g journey to look int

t is my s

d my secrets I keep. Come, hold fo

re me my past life, of what use will it b

past may prove my powe

ical skill. Many thanks, my venerable friend, b

said. "Surely not, for he comes of a

hurled him by the throat from yonder window. Be careful of your

astrologer b

r new-born son, since you refuse to be served. I will depart at once. I fear no earthly storm. Good-night, Sir Jasper Kingslan

er-haired old man turned to go, folding his long cloak

ing my son. What danger threatens h

I have not cast t

u wish t

have taken a long journey for

it can avert no evil, it can, at least, cause none. But, first, there is no action without its ruli

wn up to his fullest he

p, dark eyes glowi

and a service to one I dearly love; that I have never forgotten and never will forget! You hav

at could it have been? I

t men like Sir Jasper Kingsland, grandees of the land, forget these little things. I owe

ant in dire menace. Then, quick as lightning flashes, all was transformed. The e

hreaten his youth and manhood, and to place you on your guard against them. 'Forwarned is fore-armed,' you know. Do not doubt my power. In far-off Oriental lands, under the golden stars of

d power. Show me my past, befo

his hand with

s easier to read. Ah! a palm seamed and crossed and marked with tr

er, with sneering emphasis. "Pray d

ars ago, on the third of next month, you, Jasper So

d. "You know my

ten, your mother went to her grave. At twelve, the late Sir Noel followed her. At thirteen, you, a lonely

e. Pray

-one, you left Cambridge, and started to make the grand tour. You were tolerably clever; you were young and handsome, and heir to a noble inheritance. Your life was to be the life of a grea

a man in a dream. Achmet the Astrologer contin

uble begins. As usual, a woman is at the bo

se. The baronet

vineyards glow in the tropic sun, and golden summer forever reigns. But the glowing southern sun is not more brilliant than the Spanish gy

r Jasper Kingsland cried,

e. And you? You are grand and noble, a milor Inglese, and you take her love-her crazy worship-as a demi-god might, with uplifted grace, as your birthright; and she is your pretty toy of an hour. And then careless and happy, you are gone. Sunny Spain, with its olives and its vineyards, its pomegran

is eyes glowed like the orbs of a demon. But Sir

awe-struck tone. "No living mortal kn

loger smiled-a d

if you like. Whatever I am, I have truthfully told you

almis

old!" drawing aside the cu

one, "and leave me. Destiny is propitious. The fate that ruled your so

to the very top of the house-to the lofty, lonely battlements. Cloudless spread the wide night sky; countless and brilliant s

t. When the first little pink cloud of sunrise blus

ing at the stars, as a king looking upon his subjects. An

d looked for the coming of dawn. Faintly the silver light broke in the Orient, rosy flushed

ad blanched his ever-white face with a livid hue of death. In one han

one?" the b

Your son's f

hed the

d, shrinking palpably fro

h after as you see fit. I have but one word to say: not I, but a mightier power traced the words you

so! Remain and breakfast here. T

y. No, Sir Jasper Kingsland, I break no bread under your roof

out of his eyes, with deadly menace in every syllable. Then he was g

ed with cabalistic characters, Eastern symbols, curious marks and hieroglyphics. The other side was written in French, in long

ee domestics rushed in. There lay Sir Jasper Kingsland prone on his face on the floor, stiff and stark as a dead man. A paper, unintelligible to al