"Do not think that; destiny is my master," said La Flèche, putting the money into a box, and suddenly affecting to speak simply and with a fatalistic air.
He turned his indescribable hat, which seemed to threaten heaven like an insolent castle tower, pulled it over his eyes like an extinguisher, made several wry faces, pronounced divers unmeaning words supposed to be cabalistic formulas, and, having turned his back in order to wipe off the coarse paint unseen, showed his face made pale by prophetic inspiration.
Then he traced upon the gravel the great asphère of ignorant necromancers, with all the symbols of street-corner astrology; he placed a stone in the centre and threw the box at it, which broke and distributed the contents over the symbols drawn in the different compartments.
Thereupon D'Alvimar stooped to pick up his pebble.
"No, no!" cried the gypsy, darting into the circle with the agility of a monkey, and placing his foot on D'Alvimar's token, without effacing any of the signs that surrounded it; "no, messire, you cannot interfere with destiny. It is above you as it is above me!"
"Certainly not," said Lauriane, putting her little cane between D'Alvimar and La Flèche. "The magician is master in his magic circle, and by disarranging your destiny, you may disarrange ours too."
D'Alvimar submitted; but his face betrayed an extraordinary agitation which he instantly suppressed.
[XXII]
La Flèche began with the token nearest the central stone, which he called Sinai.
It was Lucilio's; the gypsy pretended to measure angles and make computations, then said in rhyming prose: