Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1903-01-24
.rwell, what do


and asked sharply: We'll, what do
you make of it?"
The astrologer shook his head. "The
stars are bright" he said slowly, but
their brightness Is bewildertng to NOR
tai eyes and 1t is hard to read TIVE
the lines of their eifulgence. Dreams
are dim, and 1t Is difficult for mortal
minds to interpret their obscurity.
The king frowned. Il know well
enough" he said, that stars are bright
and that dreams are dim. but your wis
dom Is clothed and housed n nour-
ished for deeper knowledge than this.
Interpret my dream for France as Jo-
seph interpreted the vision or the Egyp-
tian."
With an unmoved face the astrologer
scanned the crystal. Thus / seem TO
read the riddle Of your dream, sire" he
answered. There is n in the depths
who, If exalted to the heights, might do
YOU great service and who yet might
irk you so greatly hat you would cast
him back again into the depths from
which he rose. The stars seem to speak
Of such a coming, and, as 1t seems TO
me, this stranger should have potent
influence for good for a period Of seven
days from this day. l have sought and
sought in vain to see something OF this
man in the crystal. l only see con-
fusedly great crowds of people, pa
geants and Mosques, and moVhlSs or
many soldiers, battle and bloodshed,
and great victory for France-and then
q star falls from heaven and all the
vision vanlshes."
The kin was silent for a moment;
then with an imperative gesture he dis
missed the astrologer, who entered the
tower and climbed the winding stairs
to the room where he pursued his oc-
cult studies. The king walked restless
ly up and down, indifferent to the roses,
thinking only of the stars.
IF Francois Villon were the king of
France" he muttered. How that mad
ballad maker glowed asst night. Fools
are proverbially fortunate, and a mac
man may save Paris for me as a mad
maid saved France for my SIRE
A heavy tread behind him stirred him
from his meditations. Turning, he be-
held the companion OF his adventure OF
the previous evening.
We'll, Tristan?" he questioned APP
| prehensively, for Tristan had the evil
smile on his face which he always wore
when he had news of m disagreeable
kind to impart. -.
THE bird has flown, SIRE" he said.
"Thibaut d'Aussigny's wound was much
slighter than we thought last night.
After we carried him TO his house, he
made his escape thence in disguise, ana
has, l believe, fled from Paris to join
the Duke of Burgundy"
The king shrugged his shoulders In
differently.
Il wish the duke Joy of him" he said.
HE is more dangerous to my enemy
when he is on my enemy's side. Where
are the rascals of last night?'
'"The tavern rabble are in custody of
Messire Noel"
And my rival for royalty?'
Barber olivier has charge of him. l
would have hanged the rogue out OF
hand"
Your turn will come, gossip, neVer
doubt it. But the stars warn me that l
need this rhyming ragamuffin. There
is a tale Of Haroun al Raschid-
Tristan stihed a yawn and a sheer.
Another tale, SIRE" he said, with some
thing like piteous protest, for the kings
tales did not always entertain Tristan.
How he picked a drunken rascal
from the streets and took him to his pal
ace. When the rascal woke sober, the
courtiers persuaded him that he was
the caliph, and the commander of the
faithful found great sport in his be-
havior. 1 promise myself a like diver
sion"
Tristan stared in surprise. This form
of entertainments was new to him and
did not seem to be particularly anus
ing.
Continued Next Weekly