“Swords fall on this trine of opposition, persecution and punishment,” exclaimed Rahula. “This portent quickens fear. Number 4, the place of mighty retribution, is not free from evil aspects. Treachery is thy portion in number 5, with malice attendant, while number 10 gives speedy death. Be not wholly convinced by this,” she entreated. “Suffer me to assail the doors of Divine Wisdom, substituting the twenty-two keys for the cards.”
She scarcely waited for Orondo’s nod of assent before she had swept the ivories into their basket, and was busy shuffling and placing the keys around the aces, still face upward. There was an intense silence as she hastily placed the keys on the numbers—first face downward in trines, and then the reverse, with the outward circle completed first. She read from the outward ring toward the center.
“Love and marriage come as thy portion, but not without delay and much suffering. After this, the body sleeps,” she said in conclusion.
The cool brisk wind felt refreshing to Orondo’s fevered cheeks as he hurried along the streets flooded with afternoon sunlight. The every-day commonplaces of active life about him passed unnoticed in the rapid whirl of his conflicting emotions.
“Fancy claims me for her own,” he thought. “Surely there can be no harm in obeying such sweet service as links me to my loved one.”
Orondo smiled softly, and as he turned into the broad avenue leading to Iaqua, his serenity was fully reëstablished. He went to his own apartments, and spent much time and labor over his toilet. Finally, when extract and oil, brush and comb had done full justice, he found his way into the smoking-room, where he sought quiet for his nerves in the narcotic effect of a chibouk. Under its soothing influence he indulged in the airiest of day-dreams. As the appointed hour drew near, he repaired to the sanctuary, where he knelt and humbly petitioned Divine Grace to attend his venture.
“Father,” said Ildiko, as she stood with Setos in the twilight awaiting their dinner-guests, “make no demand for light early to-night. Some unseemly circumstance oppresses the spirit of Kerœcia. She has been weeping.”
“Yearning for her own may weigh her down. If so, we have failed to make our welcome speak to her heart. In this we must be more vigilant. H-s-h! Here she is, attended!”
Scarcely had the women found seats when the voices of Hanabusa, Ben Hu Barabe and Alcamayn were heard responding to Setos’s greetings in the broad entrance hall.