The latter was a keen-eyed, black-browed man, with pale, thin features, and lank, raven hair. His dress was rich and even gaudy, while his long, white fingers were loaded with rings.
The conversation flagged somewhat till Firestone called for a bottle of Canary, and presently the colonel and the merchant were trying to outvie each other by telling tales of their adventures both at home and in the countries of western and southern Europe.
"I do perceive that ye are Royalists and honest men," remarked the merchant, fixing his keen eyes on us each in turn. "Therefore, I'll take ye into my confidence, an ye be willing."
"I will not promise you that I'll take you into mine," replied Firestone bluntly.
"I do not ask it," continued the other carelessly. "I can read most persons' minds like an open book. For example, you, young sirs, are journeying to give your personal services to His Majesty. And you, sir, are an old soldier, who also is on the same errand?"
"How knowest thou that?" inquired the colonel, with considerable amazement.
"Never mind," replied the other, with a slight smile. "But, that being so, why should we not travel together? I am taking a present to His Majesty, which will, I trove, relieve him of all anxiety regarding money matters. To be brief, I tell you, in confidence, I possess the secret of the philosopher's stone, concerning which so many wise men have laboured in vain."
"What!" exclaimed Firestone, "canst convert base metal into gold and silver?"
"Ay, and I'll prove it forthwith," replied the merchant calmly. Producing a small glass bottle from his pocket, he held it up for our inspection.
"'Tis not a stone, but a powder that works the marvel," he continued. "The secret thereof was bestowed upon me by Master Hans Oest, the world-known alchemist of Antwerp. See, here is a piece of lead. Take and examine it carefully, lest you say it is not base metal."