A flush of anger and
confusion passed for a moment over Kelly's visage. Quickly recovering
his self-possession, with a severe aspect, he stood before the intruder.
"Art come to listen or to watch?" abruptly interrogated the seer. "Both
be rare accomplishments truly for a youth of thy breeding."
"Nay, good Master Kelly; I came but at thy bidding, and mine ears are
not the heavier or the wiser for what they have heard, I trow."
"I thought thee safe at morning prayers."
"Nay," replied Rodolf. "There be too many bright eyes and blushing
cheeks for 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.
Pages:
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455