CHAPTER II.
ACHMET THE ASTROLOGER.
An old man, yet tall and upright, wearing a trailing cloak of dull black, long gray hair flowing over the shoulders, and tight to the scalp a skull-cap of black velvet.

A patriarchal board, abundant and silver-white, streamed down his breast, and out of a dull, white face, seamed and wrinkled, looked a pair of eyes piercing and black.
Sir Jasper took a stop backward, and regarded this singular apparition in wonder.

The old man folded his arms across his bosom--and made him a profound Oriental salaam.
"The Lord of Kingsland gazes in amaze at the uninvited stranger.

And yet I think destiny has sent me hither." "Who are you ?" the baronet demanded.

"What jugglery is this?
Are you dressed for an Eastern dervish in a melodrama, and have you come here to play a practical joke?
I am afraid I can not appreciate the humor of the masquerade.