The King suddenly ceased talking and motioned to the aged peasant outside who had not averted his piercing gaze. "That man--" "Yes, Your Majesty, what of that man?" answered Lecazes, with a frown. "That beggar? Does Your Majesty wish alms given him?" "No, Baron. How does it happen that you, from whom nothing is hidden, do not know who that man is and what he wants?" The superintendent's shoulders shrugged indifferently. "Your Majesty, I _do_ know. That man has been watched from the moment he set foot in Paris. It has been found that he is inoffensive and probably idiotic. He prays much and aloud. In times past he was a partisan of the good cause and he now prophecies strangely concerning Your Majesty. Such visionaries are plentiful during this tumultuous time. Are we to heed them all? He doubtless has some favor to ask." "No, Baron, your sagacity is not up to the mark in this case. That man is not to be despised. I must see and hear him. Perhaps my fears are groundless, but they are so persistent that only reality can dissipate them. How persevering he is! Daily, almost hourly, he fixes his greenish eyes upon the palace. I see him from whatever window I look. He mesmerizes me. Call it caprice if you will, but I wish you to send for this man. I _must_ see him. He has stood there for a fortnight. Perhaps he is a poor unfortunate wishing to have a word with the king." "Does Your Majesty ask my advice in the matter or am I receiving a command?" "A command." "Then I leave Your Majesty, in order to execute the command." "No, remain. I shall send for him myself. You are to listen to our interview and give me your opinion. If he be really daft, 'twill amuse us. He is sure to be interesting." "He will no doubt wish to be left alone with Your Majesty." "Perhaps so. Well, place yourself back of that screen. The dear Countess de Cayla often listens from there to fatuities which greatly amuse her. Do not reveal yourself, unless I call or foul play be attempted." Chapter VIII THE SEER A few minutes later, the door opened to admit the imposing figure of the octogenarian, Martin. The king graciously motioned him to advance. He approached diffidently, a pale ray from the setting sun shining upon his face and lighting up a flaming mark across his breast. This was the red flannel scapula of the Heart of Jesus stamped with the words: "I shall reign." "Come forward, my friend. Ask what you wish. We have seen you so often opposite the palace that we decided to attend to your request. Take a seat and do not be timid." The monarch pointed to a tabouret, but the peasant did not heed the invitation. Glancing around the apartment, he suddenly noticed the voluptuous Pompeian lamp and then turned indignantly, almost threateningly, upon the king who, somewhat disconcerted--though he scarcely knew why--repeated: "Ask what you wish."