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A loud squeal from Bess Hallaker behind the door.

"It would divert me to have our bearings read," said Elisabeth. "We all know it is forbidden only because some fool once foretold the Queen's sudden death."

"Talk not so much of its being forbidden," said her husband, "or I won't have it done here."

In his heart he was a little afraid of the astrologer, afraid yet enticed. He had often wished to have his future read, and would no doubt long ago have sent for some magician, but for his fears, which in reality dissuaded him more than the thought of breaking a law that was often broken.

"By Cock! Tis but a game," he said, reassuring himself.

"We'll have it done to tickle the servants," said Elisabeth Alard, moving towards the hall.

She too was a little afraid. Suppose the magician read in her heart the thoughts that grew there for Kit Oxenbrigge . . . She watched Kit as he carried a torch to the fireplace, above which was handsomely carved and painted the Alard coat of arms—a shield argent, three bars gules, on a canton azure a leopard's head or. He held the torch high, to illuminate the carving; the red light shone in his eyes, and she saw fear there—fear like her own.