I looked in the direction she indicated, and saw a tall man, dressed like any ordinary cavalier of the court, except for his cloak, which was of extreme length, and fell almost to his heels. He, however, wore no sword, but held in his hand a small rod of ebony, with a golden ball at the end. This was the celebrated astrologer Coiffier, who had foretold the death of Henry III., and who, it is said, never died, but was taken away bodily by the Evil One. How far this is true I know not, but it was common report when he disappeared for ever.
'He is much unlike Pantin,' I remarked; 'no one would take them for brothers.'
'And yet they are—and Pantin always says he is the younger, too.'
And now, as we made our way slowly towards the upper end of the room, I began to get tongue-tied, and Madame, too, said nothing. Finally, I blurted out, 'I am to see the King in a few minutes.'
She looked down and half-whispered, 'God give you success.'
'Amen!' I echoed to her prayer.
And then, in a way that people have when their hearts are full of grave things, we began to talk of matters light as air.
'The King is late to-day,' Madame said, glancing at the still closed door of the cabinet, near which a curious crowd had gathered; 'perhaps the cinque-pace will not come off,' she ran on, 'Monsieur de Guiche told me that the King was to open it with Mademoiselle d'Entragues. Do you not see her there? That lovely, black-eyed girl, talking to half-a-dozen people at once.'
'Is she so very beautiful?'
'What a question to ask! I do not see a woman in the room to compare with her.'