“You may readily remember that I once happened a sore mischance—­to wit, by losing a horse I had but lately bought, and which, through your good offices, kindly and without fee administered, I again got back, to my great joy and comfort.  I was telling of this but few days agone to a friend of mine, one Barnabas Hardcastle, whom I have made bold to bring before your reverence.  He but laughed at me for my pains, and would in no wise believe it, but mark how he was served!  Within this hour, he tells me that he has lost his mare, and would fain have the like help to its recovery.”

“Hast thou lost thy beast?” inquired the Doctor.

“Verily I have,” said Barnabas, making a respectful acknowledgment to the Doctor’s dignified address.  “It was but this morning she was safe as Mancastle is in the dirt, hard by Mr Lever’s house yonder, in the fields.  ’Tis a grievous loss, Master Dee, seeing that I was offered a score of pounds for the beast last Martinmas.”

The Doctor opened his tables, and erected a scheme or figure of the heavens, to the very minute when this communication was made.  Ere it was finished he gave a sharp and shrewd glance at the stranger, saying—­

“The latter part of the sign Scorpio ascendeth, and it is not safe to give judgment.  Mars, lord thereof, is in evil aspect with Venus, lady of the seventh and sixth likewise, or house of servants.  Yet is Mercury lord of the tenth, and free from affliction.  I will therefore try my skill, though I should fail.  The beast thou lackest is either taken by a servant or lost through his neglect.  Stay.  The Dragon’s Tail, which I have just placed, being located in the seventh, thy mare is certainly lost, and will never be recovered.”

Dee looked earnestly at the man, who, gathering his features into a grin of contempt, could scarcely refrain from an unmannerly burst of laughter.

“Now, o’ my troth,” said he, “I was but minded to try the skill of your prophet, and to show your folly.  The roan mare is safe, and I left her but an hour ago with my lad, who is walking her to and fro just out of the town-fields by Withy Grove, until I have done mine errand.”

“Thou art a bold man to say so,” replied the Doctor angrily, and with a glance as though it were meant to annihilate this contemner of the celestial art.  “I tell thee she is lost, and shall never be got back:  a reward thou hast well earned for thy folly.”

With a scornful and malicious grin did Master Barnabas receive this denunciation, taking his departure with little ceremony, as if fearful of some mischance.  Eccleston, much scandalised at his friend’s proceedings, followed him down-stairs, not caring to stay longer with the Doctor.

As Bartholomew and he sate discoursing on the future, and forming many projects, more particularly about the hidden treasures, without which, Dee said, he could not continue his search for the elixir, as he was nigh beggared, they heard a swift footstep on the stairs.  Presently in rushed Eccleston followed by Lettice, who strove to prevent this intrusion.  The Doctor frowned on his entrance, but, Eccleston, breathless and much agitated, could with difficulty declare his errand.