the baronet called him back.

"Stay," he said. "You speak of serving my son. What danger threatens
his infant life that you can avert?"

"I know of none. I have not cast the horoscope yet."

"Then you wish to do so?"

"With your good permission. I have taken a long journey for that very
purpose, Sir Jasper."

"Then you shall," the baronet cried, yielding to a swift impulse--"you
shall cast his horoscope. If it can avert no evil, it can, at least,
cause none. But, first, there is no action without its ruling motive.
What are me or mine to you, to make you take a long and toilsome
journey on our account?"

The old man paused, drawn up to his fullest height, imposing as a new
King Lear, his deep, dark eyes glowing with inward fire.

"I will tell you," he said. "Years ago, Sir Jasper, when you were a
young man, you did an honor and a service to one I dearly love; that I
have never forgotten and never will forget! You have ceased to
remember it years ago, no doubt; but I never have, nor ever will until
my dying day."

"A service! an honor! What could it have been? I recollect nothing of
it."