"Oh, I ask nothing," replied Madame De Giac. "'Twas but to please the duke."
"But I must ask something," said the duke; and, drawing the astrologer somewhat aside, he whispered a question in his ear, while Madame De Giac's bright eyes fixed upon them eagerly.
To whatever was the duke's question, the astrologer replied, aloud, "As much as she possibly can," and the fair lady sank back in her chair with a look of relief, though the answer might possibly bear several meanings.
The duke's face was more cheerful, however, when he turned round; and, pointing to Madame De Giac's young companion, he said, "Come, let us have some happy prediction in her favor."
The astrologer gazed at her with a look of some interest, and so earnestly that the color rose in her cheek, and a certain fluttering grace of expression passed over her countenance, which made it look, for the first time, to the eyes of Jean Charost quite beautiful, foreshadowing what she was afterward to become. She made no hesitation, however, in telling the day, hour, and minute of her birth, and the astrologer consulted his tables again; but still paused in silence for a moment or two, though the Duke of Burgundy exclaimed more than once, "Speak--speak!"
"My science is either wrong," the astrologer said, at length, "or thine is, indeed, an extraordinary destiny. Till nineteen years have passed over thy head, all is quiet and peaceful. Then come some influences, not malign, but threatening. Some evil will befall thee which would be ruinous to others; but thy star triumphs still, and rises out of the clouds of the seventh house in conjunction with Mars, also in the ascendant. From that hour, too, the destiny of France is united with thine own. Mighty monarchs and great warriors shall bow before thee. Queens shall seek thy counsel, and even those thou hast wronged shall cling to thee for aid and for support."
"Oh, no--no," exclaimed Agnes, stretching forth her beautiful hands, with a look and attitude of exquisite grace. "I will wrong no one. Tell me not that I will wrong any one; it is not in my nature--can it be my destiny?"
"One wrong," replied the astrologer, "repaired by many a noble act. But I see more still. France shall have cause to bless thee. A comet--a fiery comet--shoots forth across the sky, portending evil; but thy star rules it, and the evil falls upon the enemies of France. The comet disappears in fire, and thy star still shines out in the ascendant, bright, and calm, and triumphant to the end. But the end comes too soon--alas! too soon."
"So be it," said the young girl, in a tranquil tone. "Life, I think, must be feeling. I would not outlive one joy, one power, one hope. So be it, I say. Death is not what I fear, but wrong. Oh, I will never commit a wrong."
"Then, pretty maid, you will be more than mortal," said the Duke of Burgundy; "for we all of us do wrong sometimes, and often are obliged to do so that great good may spring out of small evil."