Suddenly through his pleasant slumbers he heard an eagerly whispered—
"Hey! friend!"
Whilst the toe of his shoe was violently tagged at from below.
"Friend, wake!"
"They won't listen!" added an impatient, half-tearful voice.
But already Abra was on his feet. Giving his humble henchman a violent kick to wake him up, he began to mutter mechanically, even before he was fully conscious—
"What ho, my masters! consult the world-famous necromancer——"
Bang! bang! bang! on the big drum came automatically from his henchman, who was only half awake.
"No! no! no!" entreated Ursula, "I prithee not so much noise! We wish to consult the soothsayer . . . we've brought some money . . . three gold pieces . . . is that enough? . . . But in the name of Our Lady I beg of thee not to make so much noise."
Timidly she held up a silken purse towards the astonished wizard. Three gold pieces!—why, 'twas a fortune, the like of which the worthy Abra had never beheld in one sum in his life.