I was both glad and disappointed not to find George in the gown of the
Abbe. I was glad because of the risk he would have taken had he come to
England, yet disappointed in missing what would have been the most
picturesque, daring personal exploit of English court history. But on the
whole it was better as it was.
The next morning the king sent for me to come to his closet, and asked if
I knew one Lilly, an astrologer. I answered that I knew little of him
personally, but had heard much of his wisdom and learning.
"Yes, yes, but you know where he lives, do you not? On the Strand, a
dozen houses this side of Temple Bar?" asked the king.
"I have seen the house often, your Majesty," I replied.
"Good! Now listen attentively to what I have to say," returned the king,
graciously taking my arm and leading me to a window overlooking the
river. "I hear from De Grammont that the Abbe du Boise is a firm believer
in the teachings of astrology. I want you to arrange, without letting any
one know that my finger is in the pie, to take Lilly to see the Abbe, or
the Abbe to see Lilly. I'll whisper a word in your ear. The stars will
tell our friend, the Abbe, a story to suit our purposes. The French king
and his ambassadors will find their match in me, I warrant you. I have
bought Lilly, body and soul--with promises." The king shrugged his
shoulders and whispered: "With promises, you understand, Baron Ned, with
promises.
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