“What do you wish?”
“Sire, I am a physician,” answered Tito, quietly, “and I have such confidence in my science, that I dare tell your majesty the day, hour and instant when Louis I. will die.”
Philip looked with more attention at the ragged boy, whose countenance was as supernatural as beautiful.
“Speak!” said the king.
“Ah, no!” replied Tito, with a degree of sarcasm; “we must first arrange the price.”
The king started on hearing these words as if waking from a dream; he saw the matter in another light, and was almost ashamed of having tolerated it.
“Here!” said he, touching the bell, “arrest this man!”
A captain of guards appeared, and placed his hand on Tito’s shoulder. The boy remained perfectly quiet.
The king, returning to his first superstition, cast a side glance at the strange physician, then rising with difficulty (for the weakness he had suffered for some years had lately augmented), said to the officer: “Leave us alone.”