But Rene had scarcely finished speaking before the steel became white
and everything gradually disappeared from its surface. Then Catharine
opened the book and read the following lines in a voice which, in spite
of her effort at control, she could not keep from shaking:

"_'Ains a peri cil que l'on redoutoit,_
_Plus tot, trop tot, si prudence n'etoit.'_"[14]

A deep silence reigned for some moments.

"For the one whom you know," asked Catharine, "what are the signs for
this month?"

"As favorable as ever, madame; unless Providence interferes with his
destiny he will be fortunate. And yet"--

"And yet what?"

"One of the stars in his pleiad was covered with a black cloud while I
made my observations."

"Ah!" exclaimed Catharine, "a black cloud--there is some hope, then?"

"Of whom are you speaking, madame?" asked the Duc d'Anjou.

Catharine drew her son away from the light of the brazier and spoke to
him in a low tone.

Meanwhile Rene knelt down, and in the glow of the flame poured into his
hand the last drop of blood which had remained in the bottom of the
flask.

"Strange contradiction," said he, "which proves how little to be
depended on is the evidence of simple science practised by ordinary men!
To any one but myself, a physician, a scholar, even for Maitre Ambroise
Pare, this blood would seem so pure, so healthy, so full of life and
animal spirits, that it would promise long years of life; and yet all
this vigor will soon disappear, all this life will be extinct within a
year!"

Catharine and Henry of Anjou had turned round and were listening.

The eyes of the prince glowed through his mask.

"Ah!" continued Rene, "the present alone is known to ordinary mortals;
while to us the past and the future are known."

"So," continued Catharine, "you still think he will die within the
year?"

"As surely as we are three living persons who some day will rest in our
coffins."

"Yet you said that the blood was pure and healthy, and that it indicated
a long life."

"Yes, if things followed their natural course. But might not an
accident"--

"Ah, yes, do you hear?" said Catharine to Henry, "an accident"--

"Alas!" said the latter, "all the more reason for my staying."

"Oh, think no more about that: it is not possible."

Then turning to Rene:

"Thanks," said the young man, disguising his voice, "thanks; take this
purse."

"Come, _count_," said Catharine, intentionally giving her son this t