It was late, and every one retired to rest. The king repaired to his private chamber. Count Henrik saw with uneasiness that Master Thrand followed him. The king's chamber was immediately adjoining the library, to which Count Henrik had access. He hesitated a moment; it seemed to him degrading, without the king's knowledge and consent, to become a concealed witness to his conversation with the mysterious scholar; but his anxiety and care for the king's safety at last overcame every scruple. He took a light with him and went to the library. The light went out in the passage, which he deemed fortunate, as his presence might otherwise be easily betrayed if there was the least chink in the door between the library and the private chamber. He stepped softly into the vaulted and flagged apartment, where a pair of bookshelves with wire grating, together with some chairs and a reading table, were the only furniture. The moon shone brightly through the small bow window; he seated himself at the table close by the door of the private chamber, fixed his eyes on an open manuscript, and listened.

"Here we are now alone, and wholly undisturbed," he heard the king say, and the chivalrous Count Henrik felt he blushed for himself; he made a movement to depart, but put a constraint on his feelings and kept his seat on hearing Master Thrand's whispering voice, but in so low and mysterious a tone that he could not understand a word.

"I know it all," continued the king, "and it is useless for you to deny it, learned Master Thrand! You are what is called a heretic and Leccar brother; as such you are doomed to fire and faggot, by the pope, with your whole sect, and proscribed by all Christian kings; according to my decree, and at the requirement of the papal court you are banished from my state and country also. Yet if you can prove to me you have found the philosopher's stone, as you seem yourself to imagine, and that there exists a higher truth and wisdom than the revealed Word, I will acquit you, and in defiance of pope and clergy will recal the decree of banishment against your sect."

"Most mighty sovereign!" now said the mountebank, distinctly, though in a hesitating tone;--"what you know of me I have myself confided to you; had I not known your generosity and reverence for the laws of hospitality, and had I not known you were elevated far above this ignorant and narrow-minded age, such a confidence in a ruler would have stamped me as the most contemptible of fools. You have spoken truth, great sovereign!" he continued, as it seemed with assumed firmness. "I am a heretic and Leccar brother; but, to be such I esteem a higher honour (even should I at last die at the stake for it) than if all blinded, gulled Christendom were to worship me as the greatest and most admirable of saints."

"Truly!" answered the king, sternly, "that is a bold speech, Master Thrand; if it contain not loftier wisdom than hath yet been known to the best and wisest scholars during the space of thirteen centuries, I must regard it as the most mad and presumptuous declaration that hath ever passed the lips of man. I stand myself, as you know, in dangerous and daring strife with that power which in the church's name would rule princes as well as people, and enslave our souls. I defy every decree of man which would drive us to despair and ungodliness, and give over our souls to the destroyer; but notwithstanding, I deem the church and the divine Word on which it is founded not the less sure and stedfast, and I would fain see that philosopher--or fool, who would cause me to swerve a hair's breath from this belief."

"As soon as your grace understands me fully," answered Master Thrand, with calmness, "you will see that is nowise my aim: the real church of truth is the invisible one which I also worship in spirit, and the true eternal Word of God is that which hath never been wholly revealed, but to which I hearken with reverence, and appropriate through the medium of science, by searching into yon great book of revelation, which can only be unlocked by the wakened power of divinity within us. Hear ye not yourself, noble king! the mighty voice of divinity in the thunders of heaven? See ye not the finger of the Almighty in the destructive lightning? And must you not confess that he who is ruler over those mighty forces of nature, is the only true powerful God whom we must worship and adore?"

"Well! that is a matter of course, but what of that?" asked the king, in an impatient tone.

"If I now could show you," continued Master Thrand, with rising zeal, "that the same power lies in my hand and in my will--that I by a nod can force the voice of Omnipotence to speak and announce in shouts of thunder, that I am the Lord and master of those godlike powers--will you then deny my right to publish the divine word, which speaks through my will as it does through nature? Will you then any longer doubt my having found and possessed myself of the essence of things,--the source of power,--which shall hereafter change the form of the world and throw down the idol temples of prejudice, and the fortified castles of tyrants? Will you then believe I have found the key to the great mystery of life; and that the voice of deity, which speaks through my will and my works, is able to say--Live! when time, sickness, and age,--when sword and poison,--when war, pestilence, and hunger,--when stake and executioners,--when popes and tyrants, and all the foes of life, shout--Die!"

There was a moment's silence in the private chamber, and Count Henrik drew breath with difficulty. "Strange!" said the king's voice again; "but no--it is impossible. I will defer forming an opinion of your wisdom, Master Thrand, until I have seen the marvellous things you speak of. As far as I understand you, you seem to consider yourself not only as the lord and master of nature, but of Deity itself: such discourse sounds to me like the greatest and most presumptuous madness."

"Madness and wisdom, lying and truth, evil and good, darkness and light, border closely on each other, noble king," again whispered the well-oiled tongue of Thrand. "This must especially be the case in all transitions from night to day, from error to truth, from one age to another. That which I have here dared to whisper to you in this private chamber, in reliance on the strength of your royal mind, will one day be openly announced from the lowest seat of learning, and seem but as the pastime of children to the mature in spirit. How each one of us will picture to himself the divinity is in fact his own affair; that will depend on his own individual mental vision; and will be a necessity like all other things. What is divine is, and must ever partly remain, a mystery to the majority; but we can all attain clear views of time and its mutable concerns: this lies within the sphere of our common vision, and so far I flatter myself I shall be able to open your penetrating eyes, great king, that no part of time shall be wholly hidden from you, and that you may be able to look as clearly into the future as back upon the past perishable world of things and actions."

"Well then," said the king, impatiently, "teach me to see more clearly with the mind's eye, if you are able. I have all reverence for your bodily glass eyes, and you have certainly opened to me a wider view of the outer world. One mirror of the past I know already in the study of our chronicles; if there is also a natural mirror of the future, show it me."

"There are two, gracious king!" answered Master Thrand, with emphasis; "we call them providence and divination: we can possess ourselves of both by keen wisdom, and awakened inner sense. With the first you can see much; with the second more; with both almost every thing. Of the highly-important step you are about to take to-morrow your grace can only judge by means of such a twofold insight."

"What!" exclaimed the king, with vehemence; "think ye I am now about to use my understanding for the first time, and consider the step which, with well-advised purpose and with the help of God, I have already taken, and which is my highest happiness? Be the consequences what they may, and whatever the Almighty Ruler of the world hath ordained for me and my kingdom, on this point the clearest insight into futurity cannot change my will or extinguish the fairest hope of my life."

"But look, great sovereign!" continued Master Thrand, with eagerness; "cast an unprejudiced and dispassionate glance into those person's souls which you would link with yours. Three royal brothers--your future brothers-in-law--stand yonder beside a throne; the weakest, the least gifted, hath been chosen to fill it; but the superior mind and power and courage of his brothers increase mightily. The nobler spirit can never bow before its inferior; the fermenting forces must develope themselves; opposing ones must separate; those of close affinity must combine; what hath been arbitrarily joined must be forcibly severed; and he who plunges into the wild tumultuous stream must be swept along with it and perish."

"Silence! With thy presumptuous talk," interrupted the king, in a loud voice, and stamping hard on the ground; "no contemptible calculation and dread of the future shall stop my progress, or disquiet my soul. Whatever may be working in the minds of those princes, crowns are not left to be the sport of wild passions; justice and the highest power are not subject to the will and authority of man, but to that of the Almighty. A royal sceptre may repose secure in the hand of a child when God is with him, even though that child stands surrounded by traitors and murderers. This I have myself experienced."

"But, your royal grace, when the minor, as yonder, never attains to majority in mind," objected Thrand, "when the power proceeding from the will of a free and powerful nation is, through foolish superstition and misconception, linked to the phantom which theologians call God's grace--an idea which only hath meaning and significance when we see that grace revealed in the great and noble, though mutable, will of the people, to which all connection with the weaker unapt spirit is destruction----"

"By all the holy men, the highest might and authority comes from above!" interrupted the king, with vehemence, "In man's will only, not in the Lord's, is there vacillation and change; he who justly wears a crown hath a power in the will of God, which no mortal shall defy unpunished. But enough of this. I called you not hither to consult with you on state affairs. Knew I not you were a philosopher who takes but little interest in worldly government, I should be tempted to believe you were a wily emissary from my foes, and those who secretly strive to undermine my happiness."

"Heaven forefend! your grace," exclaimed Master Thrand, in dismay.

"I called you hither to warn you--not to receive warnings," continued the king, with stern vehemence. "I have perceived that your opinions on spiritual things are dangerous and misleading. Keep them to yourself, or I shall be necessitated to banish you from the country. I have all due respect for your knowledge in worldly matters," he added; "it may prove useful to me. My master of the mint, however, you cannot be at present, and my spiritual adviser still less. If the wise Roger Bacon was your teacher and master I would willingly know what he hath taught you that is good and reasonable; but I will not hear a word more of the philosopher's stone. I ask not to look into futurity; if you understand that art, keep it to yourself. I regard it, if not as witchcraft, as equally sinful and unwise. Such faculty hath as yet never made any human being happy.

"If you can (which, however, I much doubt) protract human life beyond its natural limits, keep such knowledge to yourself also: it seems to me not less presumptuous and irrational. I desire not to live an hour longer in this world than the Almighty hath ordained; but if you can, by natural means and without sin unveil to me the secrets of nature--if you can imitate the thunders of heaven as you assume--then show me and our philosophers the art, and explain it to us, at whatever price you deem fitting; but how far soever your mastery over the powers of nature may extend, imagine not you have usurped the power from Him, in comparison of whom the wisest and mightiest man on earth is but a miserable impotent worm. Go hence and pray our Lord and the holy Virgin to pardon you the presumptuous words you have here uttered. Would that you might one day gain a better insight into what is of higher importance to soul and salvation than all your temporal learning!"

Count Henrik could not hear what answer was made by Master Thrand to this severe reproof; the words "to-morrow, noble king!" were all he thought he understood, besides some common-place and obsequious expressions of respect, and it seemed to him that the artist's voice sounded hollow and hardly audible. The door of the private door opened and shut again; Count Henrik perceived that the king was alone, and heard him open the door to his sleeping chamber. The Count stepped softly out of the library; he heard footsteps before him in the dark passage. It was Master Thrand coming from the king's private chamber. Count Henrik stood still on remarking that the little juggler often paused in the passage, as if in secret deliberation; he muttered to himself, and was busied with something in the dark; his whimsical gait and figure was now suddenly lit up by a bright light, which instantly vanished again; Master Thrand at last stopped at a private door which led to Junker Christopher's apartments, but to which none had access beside. The door opened and closed again, and Thrand disappeared.

"What was that?" said Count Henrik to himself, with a start, "a spirit of darkness lurks between the royal brothers!" He left not the passage ere he had seen the pyrotechnic artist steal back from the junker's apartments, and repair to the knights' story in the opposite wing of the castle, where all the stranger guests were assigned their quarters for the night. Count Henrik did not betake himself to rest, but watched this night as captain of the halberdiers, without the door of the king's sleeping apartment.