Who are you ?" sternly.
"Men call me Achmet the Astrologer." "An astrologer?
Humph! your black art, it seems, could not protect you from a January storm," retorted Sir Jasper, with a cynical sneer.

"But come in--come in.

Astrologer or demon, or whatever you are, you look too old a man to be abroad such a night, when we would not turn an enemy's dog from the house.

The doors of Kingsland are never closed to the tired wayfarer, and of all nights in the year they should not he closed to-night." "When an heir is born to an ancient name and a princely inheritance, you speak rightly, my Lord of Kingsland." "How say you?
What do you know of the events of this night, Sir Astrologer ?" "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.