"Much, Sir Jasper Kingsland, and for the very reason you deride—because I am an astrologer. I read the stars, and I lift the veil of the future, and, lo! I behold your life years before you have lived it!"
Sir Jasper Kingsland laughed a cynical, unbelieving laugh.
"You jeer at me, you scoff at my words," murmured the old man, in soft, steady tones, "and yet there was no one to tell me on my way here that a son and heir had been born to the house of Kingsland within the past hour."
He lifted his arm and pointed to the clock, his dark eyes fixed upon the baronet's changing face.
"You deride the power I profess, yet every day you quote your English poet, and believe him when he says: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy.' But I am accustomed to derision, and it does not offend me. Let me prove my power, so that even the most resolute skeptic dare doubt no longer. Judge of my skill to read the future by my ability in reading the past. I have come here—I have taken a long journey to look into the future of your new-born son. Before I begin, let me look into the past of his father. Sir Jasper Kingsland, let me read your palm."
But Sir Jasper drew back.
"You have taken a long journey to look into the future of my son?
Pray, what is my son to you?"
"That is my secret, Sir Jasper, and my secrets I keep. Come, hold forth your hand, and test my skill."
"Why should I? Even if you can bring before me my past life, of what use will it be, since I must know all better than you?"
"My power to read the past may prove my power to read the future."