Soon after the appointed hour, laughter, the jingle of spurs, the clink of armour sounded without, and the young Counts impetuously entered the apartment.
William of Orange, to Duprès' secret satisfaction, was with his brothers, but Count John was missing; in his place was a youth still in dusty armour with a face fresh as a rose. Duprès knew him for Duke Christopher, son of the Elector Palatine, and as this substitution upset his calculations he demanded why Count John had not come?
"He was afraid of the Devil, Dominus," replied the young Duke, as they all seated themselves, laughing, on the five chairs placed in a row ready for them.
"As to that," replied Duprès coldly, "I would have Your Grace know that I keep no such company. I associate with neither imps nor hell-hounds, being no conjurer nor magician, as the vulgar may suppose, but a good mathematician, alchemist, and astrologer, which are noble sciences and have accomplished great marvels, as, notably, the brazen head of Albertus Magnus—which could speak—the sphere of Archimedes, the dove of Archytas, and the wheel of Vulcan. And for myself I have seen clay birds that fly and iron insects that crawl."
With that he seated himself before the magic table, and the young Princes, who had but a little while to spare before the evening festivities called them, besought him to hasten.
The skryer looked at them over the crystal ball; they were pleasant to see in their youth, their splendour, their comeliness and gaiety, as princely and as fair a company as could well be brought together.
All were in their light armour with silk scarves and jewelled chains and ladies' favours tied to their arms, save only William, who wore a suit of green cloth of gold with pearl embroidery on the sleeves, a scarf of violet, and a mantle of black velvet. He leaned forward, his elbow on his knee, his dark face in his fine hand, looking at the skryer; at his breast was a cluster of roses, and their perfume filled the small chamber.
"Oh, ye great ones," thought Duprès, "what is before you but idleness, luxury, and pomp? Wherefore should ye seek to know the future—your ways are very clear set before you."
He asked one to lower the lamp, and Adolphus rose and pulled the string; a dim, but clear, light now filled the chamber.
"I would have you notice, princely seigneurs," said Duprès, "that I am not in communication with any but good angels; from the seven names of God proceed seven angels, and from each letter of their names proceed seven more angels—from the male letters, male angels; from the female letters, female angels. And they are unable to speak anything but the truth, coming as they do from God's footstool. They are to be regarded with awe, humility, and reverence. Which of them will come, I know not, but whoever it be, I beseech your friendly Graces to observe a decent silence and a discreet behaviour."