You are a tyrant, ruling by fear alone, and with your own sword I see
you cut off the heads of--"
"Farther back," beseeched the sitter. "I--I've had enough of all that
battle and killing. I--I don't _like_ it. Go on back to the very first."
Patiently the adept redirected his forces.
"I see a poet. He sings his deathless lay by a roadside in ancient
Greece. He is an old man, feeble, blind--"
"Something else," broke in the persistent sitter, resolving not to pay
twenty dollars for having been a blind poet.
The professor glanced sharply at him. Perhaps his control did not relish
these interruptions. He seemed to suppress words of impatience and began
anew.
"Ah! Now I see your very first appearance on this planet. You were born
from another as yet unknown to our astronomers. You are now"--he lowered
his eyes to the sitter's face--"an Egyptian king."
Detecting no sign of displeasure at this, he continued with refreshed
enthusiasm.
"It is thousands of years ago. You are the last king of the pre-dynastic
era--"
"What kind of a king--one of those fighters?"
"You are a wise and good king. I see a peaceful realm peopled by
contented subjects."
"_That's_ what I want to know. Go on; tell me more. Married?"
"Your wife is a princess of rare beauty from--from Mesopotamia. You have
three lovely children, two boys and a girl, and your palace on the banks
of the Nile is one of the most beautiful and grand palaces ever erected
by the hand of man.
Pages:
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102