"The stars now crossed each other in strange motions, and fearful constellations produced the wonderful, the inscrutable to the purblind sight of man. But still no starry conflict awoke the carbuncle; for the human mind was not born that could cherish it--but at last--
"The wonder is fulfilled, the moment is come."
A bright shine flickered by Peregrine; he awoke out of his stupefaction, and, to his no little surprise, perceived Master Flea, who, in his microscopic form, but clad in a splendid drapery, and holding a blazing torch in his forepaws, busily skipped, up and down the chamber, and trilled forth the finest tones imaginable.
Peregrine strove to rouse himself from sleep, when suddenly a thousand fiery flashes quivered through the room, that in a short time seemed to be filled by one single glowing ball of fire. Then a mild aromatic breeze waved through the wild blaze, which soon died away into the softest moonlight.
Peregrine now found himself on a splendid throne, in the rich garments of an Indian king, the sparkling diadem upon his head, the emblematic lotus-flower in his hand instead of a sceptre. The throne stood in the midst of a hall, so large, the eye could not take in its extent; and its thousand columns were slim cedars, aspiring to the heavens. Between them, roses and the most odorous flowers of every kind lifted up their heads from amidst a dark foliage, as if longing for the pure bright azure, that glittered through the twined branches of the cedars, and seemed to look down upon them with the eyes of love.
Peregrine recognized himself; he felt that the carbuncle, rekindled into life, was glowing in his own breast.
In the farthest background the Genius, Thetel, was labouring to rise into the air, but never was able to reach half the height of the cedars, and fell back again to earth. Here the odious Leech-Prince was crawling with abominable contortions, now blowing himself out, and then again extending himself, and groaning out, all the time,--"Gamaheh! Still mine!"
In the middle of the hall, upon colossal microscopes, sate Leuwenhock and Swammerdamm, making most piteous faces, and reproachfully calling out to each other,--"See now! that was the point in the horoscope, the meaning of which you could not interpret. The talisman is lost to us for ever!"
Close upon the steps of the throne Dörtje Elverdink and George Pepusch seemed not so much to sleep as to be in a deep swoon.
Peregrine,--or, as we may now call him, King Sekakis,--flung back the regal mantle that covered his breast, and, from within, the carbuncle shot forth dazzling beams, like Heaven's fire, through the immense hall.