"Perchance she has been asking the oracle of him. Men say it is right wonderful what he doth tell; but they speak not too openly of the matter, lest the monks and canons of the city arise and drive him forth. The black arts are not encouraged, albeit there is always juggling and fortune-telling enow at these fairs. But this magician from foreign lands is something different. All men who have gone to him are whispering of the wonders he doth show, and the strange fashion in which he reads the thoughts of their hearts. For myself I have not had any desire to seek to him. Brother Angelus has warned us against such things. He says that half of it is trickery, unworthy to be practised by honest men; and that what is really magic is of the devil, and should be shunned by those who call themselves children of God. But for all that, many men who live upright and godly lives will, from sheer desire to see and hear the man, go to consult him or ask a question. These ofttimes come away with puzzled or troubled faces. For my part, I desire not to have dealings with either a trickster or an emissary of the Evil One." Alys shivered slightly. She had been on the point of asking to be taken to the magician; but these words had the desired effect of checking the impulse. Nevertheless, she felt considerable curiosity to know what Linda had heard or seen, and greater still would have been her curiosity had she known what was about to take place. Linda had consulted the oracle, who sat within a small tent just within the south gate, his face shrouded beneath a deep cowl, from under which his eyes gleamed like live coals. By day he sat and answered questions put to him in a deep, dreamy voice, which seemed to come from somewhere far away; but there were those who had asked to see certain things, or to look into the crystal globe or into the magic bowl, and they were bidden to meet him at an appointed time without the city gate after nightfall; and those who came back from these interviews spoke with bated breath of what they had seen and heard, and that only in whispers, lest the thing should reach the ears of the Prior. Linda was one of those who, in a strange ecstasy of trembling and hope, were awaiting their turn to lift the curtain and see beyond the veil. The oracle had divined her question ere it could leave her faltering lips. He told her that she came to ask news of one she loved--of one who might even be beyond the reach of human power--sleeping the sleep of death. Linda had given a little shriek at hearing these words; but the magician had gone on to say, in the same deep, monotonous voice, that if living his face could be called up in the magic mirror, and that thus alone could she learn whether indeed death had taken her lover for his prey.