The Baronets Bride | Page 4

in reading the past. I have come here--I have taken a long journey to look into the future of your new-born son. Before I begin, let me look into the past of his father. Sir Jasper Kingsland, let me read your palm."
But Sir Jasper drew back.
"You have taken a long journey to look into the future of my son? Pray, what is my son to you?"
"That is my secret, Sir Jasper, and my secrets I keep. Come, hold forth your hand, and test my skill."
"Why should I? Even if you can bring before me my past life, of what use will it be, since I must know all better than you?"
"My power to read the past may prove my power to read the future."
"Nay, you may easily know the past, without magical skill. Many thanks, my venerable friend, but I will not put your necromancy to the test."
"Is Sir Jasper Kingsland afraid?" he said. "Surely not, for he comes of a daring race. And yet it seems like it."
"By Heaven! if a younger man had spoken those words I would have hurled him by the throat from yonder window. Be careful of your words, old man, else even your hoary hairs may fail to save you."
Once more the astrologer bent servilely.
"I cry your mercy, my haughty Lord of Kingsland. It shall be as you say. I will depart as I came. I will not serve you nor your new-born son, since you refuse to be served. I will depart at once. I fear no earthly storm. Good-night, Sir Jasper Kingsland. Look to the heir of your house yourself. When 'angels unaware' visit you again, treat them better than you have treated me."
With a gesture indescribably grand and kingly, the silver-haired old man turned to go, folding his long cloak about him. But the voice of the baronet called him back.
"Stay," he said. "You speak of serving my son. What danger threatens his infant life that you can avert?"
"I know of none. I have not cast the horoscope yet."
"Then you wish to do so?"
"With your good permission. I have taken a long journey for that very purpose, Sir Jasper."
"Then you shall," the baronet cried, yielding to a swift impulse--"you shall cast his horoscope. If it can avert no evil, it can, at least, cause none. But, first, there is no action without its ruling motive. What are me or mine to you, to make you take a long and toilsome journey on our account?"
The old man paused, drawn up to his fullest height, imposing as a new King Lear, his deep, dark eyes glowing with inward fire.
"I will tell you," he said. "Years ago, Sir Jasper, when you were a young man, you did an honor and a service to one I dearly love; that I have never forgotten and never will forget! You have ceased to remember it years ago, no doubt; but I never have, nor ever will until my dying day."
"A service! an honor! What could it have been? I recollect nothing of it."
"I expected as much; but my memory is a good one. It is stamped on my heart forever. Great men like Sir Jasper Kingsland, grandees of the land, forget these little things. I owe you a long debt, Sir Jasper, and I will pay it to the uttermost farthing, so help me God!"
His black eyes blazed, his low voice rose, his arm uplifted fiercely for an instant in dire menace. Then, quick as lightning flashes, all was transformed. The eyes were bent upon the carpet, the arms folded, the voice sunk, soft and servile.
"Forgive me!" he murmured. "In my gratitude I forget myself. But you have my motive in coming here--the desire to repay you; to look into the future of your son; to see the evils that may threaten 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 Syria, I learned the lore of the wise men of the East. I learned to read the stars as you Englishmen read your printed books. Believe and trust, and let me cast the horoscope of your son."
"First let me test your vaunted power. Show me my past, before you show me my son's future."
He held forth his hand with a cynical smile,
"As you will. Past and future are alike to me--save that the past is easier to read. Ah! a palm seamed and crossed and marked with troubled lines. Forty years have not gone and left no trace behind--"
"Forty years!" interrupted Sir Jasper, with sneering emphasis. "Pray do not bungle in the very beginning."
"I bungle not," answered Achmet, sternly. "Forty years ago, on the third of next month, you, Jasper Southdown Kingsland, were