"And did they seek me in their wanderings?" asked Gowrie, taking her hand again, and gazing into her eyes.
She answered not, but averted her look, while the rose deepened in her cheek; and as they thus sat, the door opened suddenly, and the old man appeared. It made them both start; but Gowrie was strong in honesty of heart and purpose; and advancing frankly, he took Manucci's hand in his, saying, "I have longed much to see you, my old friend, and your dear Julia too. We have been long parted; but my affection for neither has decreased."
Manucci was very feeble; and perhaps with agitation, perhaps with weakness, he tottered on his feet. Lord Gowrie held him firmly by the hand, however, drew forward a chair, and supported him till he was seated.
"I have many things to speak to you about," said the old man; "many things which may agitate me and you. But let us not talk about them just yet. I have been very ill; and the little strength I have left, would soon be expended if I did not economise it carefully."
"I have grieved much to hear of your illness," replied the earl, standing beside his chair and gazing down upon him. "My friend, Sir John Hume, has told me how much you have suffered, and how you have been persecuted."
"The latter is nothing," replied the old man. "Every man, not behind his age in knowledge, and who from that point casts his view farther forward than the rest, judging of the consequences of each fact by experience of the past, corrected by a full acquaintance with the present, will ever seem criminal in the eyes of the fools who disbelieve, and of the knaves who believe and dread. Persecution was to be expected when I held myself aloof from idlers who consumed their time in mere amusement, and from learned busy-bodies, who wasted it in vain and fruitless studies; but that illness was a sturdy, stern, and less conquerable foe. He has battered down the outworks, and the shattered fortress must soon surrender."
"Yet you look better than I expected," replied the earl. "Indeed, at your age, which you have often told me is great, few men look better."
He might, indeed, well say so, for the old man's eye, as he sat there, was clear and bright; and a hue, very like that of returning health, was in his cheek. He was a tall man, and had once, apparently, been a very powerful one. His frame, indeed, was a little bowed. His beard and hair were snowy white; and the skin was wrinkled, except upon the high forehead and the bald crown of the head. All the signs of age, indeed, were there, except that the teeth were fine and apparently undecayed, and that the hand--which, with the exception, perhaps, of the ear, shows the advance of age more distinctly than any other part of the frame--looked not so knotted and bony as it often appears at a late period of life.
The conversation easily and gradually deviated into topics of a calm and tranquil kind. The young earl spoke of many things which had occurred to him since he left Padua. They might afford little matter of amusement to the reader of the present day; but they were interesting to the ears which heard him. The old man, too, had his tale of the changes which had taken place in Padua; but he more frequently referred to the results which had followed his own researches in matters of science. Deeply read, for that period, in natural philosophy--mingled as it was at the time, before the immortal Bacon had established a juster system of investigation, with the dreams of alchymy and judicial astrology--he discussed many subjects familiar to the ears of Lord Gowrie, whose whole family had a strong and unusual taste for inquiry into the secrets of nature. The old man seemed to be revived by his young friend's presence; and he soon recovered that cheerful gaiety which had greatly distinguished him in earlier years. Still, however, the earl remarked, that from time to time his eyelid would drop and his voice become low, as if with fatigue, and at length he said, in a kindly tone, "You are tired, my good old friend. It will be better for me to bid you good night now, and come to talk of other matters with you to-morrow."
"No, no!" cried Manucci; "it must be to-night, or never. I have waited for you, Earl Gowrie, for I told you if you would return on this night, I would read you the scheme of your nativity--point out to you, as clearly as man's voice can show, the course by which you may avoid the perils and secure the advantages of life, and tell you what must absolutely happen--what is still dependent upon courage and conduct. For this I have studied, and pondered, and tried the indications of the stars again and again; but the hour is not yet come, and you must wait till the clock strikes twelve. Then I will speak; for to-morrow, perchance, I shall not have strength to do so."