the seasoning of a man's devotions."

"Cornelius, thou mayest retire. What mine art can compass shall not be
lacking at thy need."

The merchant, with a profound obeisance, withdrew. The seer adjusted his
beard, carefully brushed the down from his velvet cap, and sate for a
while as if abstracted from all outward intercourse. His keen quick eye
became fixed, its lustre imperceptibly waning. A cloud seemed to pass
gradually over his sharp features, until their expression was absorbed,
giving place to a look of mere lifeless inanity. A spectator might have
fancied himself gazing at a sage of some remote era, conjured up from
his dark resting-place. The wand of death seemed to have withered his
shrunk visage for ages under the dim shadow of the grave.

Rodolf, aware that he was not to be interrupted when the gift was upon
him, waited patiently the result of the seer's revelations. A
considerable time had elapsed when the cloud began to roll away. His
features gradually reassumed the attributes of life, as each separately
felt the returning animation. His eyes rested full on the cavalier.

"I have had a vision, Rodolf."

"To me is it not spoken?" inquired he.

"Yea, to thee!" The seer said this in a tone so hollow and energetic,
and with a look of such thrilling awe, that even Rodolf shuddered. He
seemed to feel his glance.

"Listen. The spirit warned me thus:--

"'The stranger that hither comes o'er the broad sea
Shall wed on the night of St Bartlemy.'"

"Nay, Master Kelly, thine art faileth this once, forsooth. To-night is
the saint's vigil, yet lurk I not in the beam of a woman's favour; and
ere another year I may be cured of the simples at my father's dwelling
in the old castle."

"The vision hath spoken, and it setteth not forth idle tales. Come to me
anon, I will anoint and prepare my beryl and my divining mirror. Thou
shall thyself behold some of the mysteries touching which I have warned
thee beforetime. About noon return to my chamber."

Rodolf withdrew into his own apartment. His countenance looked anxious
and disturbed. He sat down, but his restlessness seemed to increase.
His posture was not the most easy and graceful that might be desired,
nor calculated to set off his personal advantages, though now become the
more needful, if, as the seer predicted, he should wive ere
night--albeit his bride were yet unsought--nor wooed, nor won! Nothing
could be more destructive to that easy self-satisfa