"I tell you again, Monseigneur, that I heard nothing but the name; and the rest is of little importance, for that name was the name of the man whose destiny had been made as clear to me as the noonday sun. I hastened home and hunted among my old papers until I found the Comte de Montgommery's horoscope. But a most singular circumstance, Monseigneur, and one which I have never met with before in more than thirty years of study, is that there must be some mysterious connection, some strange affinity, between you and the Comte de Montgommery; and God, who never ordained the same destiny for two men, must have reserved both of you for the same fate. For I was not mistaken; the lines of the hand and the constellations had the same aspect for both. I should not dare to say that there was to be no difference in the details of your two lives; but the predominating feature of both horoscopes is the same. I long ago lost sight of the Comte de Montgommery; but I ascertained that one of my predictions in his regard was fulfilled. He wounded François I. in the face with a red-hot brand. Has the remainder of his destiny been fulfilled? That is what I cannot say. I can only be sure that the same misfortune and the same violent death which threatened him are impending over you." "Can it be?" said Gabriel. "Here, Monseigneur," said Nostradamus, handing to Vicomte d'Exmès a roll of parchment, "here is the horoscope which I drew off at the time for the Comte de Montgommery. I should make no changes in it were I to write yours to-day." "Give it me, Master, give it me!" said Gabriel. "This is indeed an inestimable gift; and you cannot imagine how precious it is to me." "One word more, Monsieur d'Exmès," said Nostradamus; "one last word to put you on your guard, though God be supreme, and one can hardly turn aside His plans. The nativity of Henri II. presaged that he would die in a duel or in single combat." "But," asked Gabriel, "what connection?" "When you read this scroll, you will understand me, Monseigneur. Meanwhile it remains only for me to take my leave of you, and to hope that the catastrophe with which God menaces your life may at least be not sought by you." And having saluted Gabriel, who pressed his hand warmly and escorted him to the door, he took his leave. As soon as he was with Aloyse once more, Gabriel unrolled the parchment; and having made sure that no one could interrupt him or spy upon him, he read aloud the following lines:-- "En joûte, en amour, cettuy touchera Le front du roy, Et cornes ou bien trou sanglant mettra Au front du roy. Mais le veuille ou non, toujours blessera Le front du roy. Enfin, l'aimera, puis, las! le tuera Dame du roy."[2] "It is well!" cried Gabriel, with beaming eye and a look of triumph. "Now, dear Aloyse, you may tell me how my father, the Comte de Montgommery, was entombed alive by King Henri II."