"That matters not," replied the duke. "Every brave man would rather fall on the field of battle than die lingering in a sick-chamber, like a hound in his kennel."
"I said not on the field of battle," answered the astrologer. "That I will not undertake to say, and from the signs I do not think it."
"Well, well, it skills not," answered the duke, impatiently. "It is enough that I shall survive my enemies."
"Not all of them," said the astrologer; "not all of them."
The duke waved his hand for him to stop; and, pointing to Madame De Giac, exclaimed, with a somewhat rude and discourteous laugh, "Here, tell this lady her destiny. She is frightened out of her wits at the thought of hearing it; but, by the Lord, I wish to hear it myself, for she has a strange art of linking the fate of other people to her own."
"She has, indeed," replied the astrologer.
"Methinks when she was born," said the duke, laughing, "Venus must have been in the house of Mars."
"Your highness does not understand the science," said the astrologer, dryly. "Madame, might I ask the date of your nativity?"
In a faltering tone, Madame De Giac gave him the particulars he required, and he then took some written tables from his wallet, and examined them attentively.
"It is a fortunate destiny," he said, "to be loved by many--to retain their love--to succeed in most undertakings. Madame, be satisfied, and ask no more."