nfess, my good Martius, you speak after the trick of your
trade.--Confess, I pray you, and you shall have no displeasure at my
hand. I am in years--a prisoner--likely to be deprived of a kingdom--to
one in my condition truth is worth kingdoms, and it is from thee,
dearest Martius, that I must look for this inestimable jewel."

"And I have laid it before your Majesty," said Galeotti, "at the risk
that, in brutal passion, you might turn upon me and rend me."

"Who, I, Galeotti?" replied Louis mildly. "Alas! thou mistakest me!--Am
I not captive--and should not I be patient, especially since my anger
can only show my impotence?--Tell me then in sincerity.--Have you fooled
me?--Or is your science true, and do you truly report it?"

"Your Majesty will forgive me if I reply to you," said Martius Galeotti,
"that time only--time and the event, will convince incredulity. It suits
ill the place of confidence which I have held at the council table
of the renowned conqueror, Matthias Corvinus of Hungary--nay, in the
cabinet of the Emperor himself--to reiterate assurances of that which
I have advanced as true. If you will not believe me, I can but refer to
the course of events. A day or two days' patience will prove or disprove
what I have averred concerning the young Scot, and I will be contented
to die on the wheel, and have my limbs broken joint by joint, if your
Majesty have not advantage, and that in a most important degree, from
the dauntless conduct of that Quentin Durward. But if I were to die
under such tortures, it would be well your Majesty should seek a ghostly
father, for, from the moment my last groan is drawn, only twenty-four
hours will remain to you for confession and penitence."

Louis continued to keep hold of Galeotti's robe as he led him towards
the door, and pronounced, as he opened it, in a loud voice, "Tomorrow we
'll talk more of this. Go in peace, my learned father.--Go in peace.--Go
in peace!"

He repeated these words three times; and, still afraid that the Provost
Marshal might mistake his purpose, he led the Astrologer into the hall,
holding fast his robe, as if afraid that he should be torn from him, and
put to death before his eyes. He did not unloose his grasp until he had
not only repeated again and again the gracious phrase, "Go in peace,"
but even made a private signal to the Provost Marshal to enjoin a
suspension of all proceedings against the person of the Astrologer.

Thus did the possession