"Then you will be more interested in the fourth of my instruments," he said, as he waved his thin, delicate hand towards the stand which stood in front of me. "In this you can see your future!"
I made an involuntary step forward; and then, at a second thought, I shrank back again.
"The price of this is not high," he continued, "and it is not payable in money."
"How, then, should I buy it?" I asked, doubtingly.
"In life!" he answered, gravely. "The vision of life must be paid for in life itself. For every ten years of the future which I may unroll before you here, you must assign me a year of life—twelve months—to do with as I will."
Strange as it seems to me now, I did not doubt that he could do as he declared. I hesitated, and then I fixed my resolve.
"Thank you," I said, and I saw that he was awaiting my decision eagerly. "Thank you again for what I have already seen and for what you proffer me. But my past I have lived once, and there is no need to turn over again the leaves of that dead record. And the future I must face as best I may, the more bravely, I think, that I do not know what it holds in store for me."
"The price is low," he urged.
"It must be lower still," I answered; "it might be nothing at all, and I should still decline. I cannot afford to be impatient now and to borrow knowledge of the future. I shall know all in good time."
He seemed not a little disappointed as I said this.