At these last words Swammerdam eyed his host as keenly as if he would pierce his deepest thoughts, but of course he did not succeed so well in that as Peregrine with his microscopic glass, by means of which the latter learned that it was not so much the united war with the Amateur and the Barber, as the mysterious horoscope, that had brought about the reconciliation of the microscopists. It was the possession of the mighty talisman that both were striving after. In regard to the mysterious lines in the horoscope of Peregrine, Swammerdam remained in as vexatious ignorance as Leeuwenhoek, but he fancied the clue must lie within Peregrine, which would lead to the discovery of the mystery. This clue he now sought to fish out of the novice, and then rob him of the inestimable treasure before he knew its value. He was convinced this talisman was equal to that of the wise Solomon, since, like that, it gave him who possessed it the perfect dominion over the kingdom of spirits.
Peregrine paid like with like, himself mystifying Swammerdam, who thought to mystify him. He contrived to answer so dexterously, in such figurative speeches, that the microscopist feared the initiation had already begun, and that soon the mystery would be revealed which neither he nor Leeuwenhoek had been able to unravel.
Swammerdam cast down his eyes, hemmed, and stammered a few unintelligible words; he was really in a bad plight, and his thoughts were all in confusion.
“The devil! What’s this? Is this Peregrine, who speaks to me? Am I the learned Swammerdam or an ass?”
In despair he at last collected himself, and began,
“But to come to something else, most respected Mr. Tyss, and as it seems to me, something much more agreeable.”
According to what Swammer now went on to say, both he and Leeuwenhoek had perceived, with great pleasure, the strong inclination which Dörtje Elverdink had conceived for him. If they had both formerly been of a different opinion, each believing that Dörtje should stay with himself, and not think of love and marriage, yet they had now both come to a better conviction. They fancied that they read in Peregrine’s horoscope he positively must take Dörtje Elverdink for his wife, as the greatest advantage in all the conjunctures of his life, and as neither doubted for a moment that he was equally enamoured of her, they had looked upon the matter as fully settled. Swammerdam, moreover, was of opinion that Peregrine was the only one who, without any trouble, could beat his rivals out of the field, and that the most dangerous opponents—namely the Amateur and the Barber—could avail nothing against him.
Peregrine found, from Swammerdam’s thoughts, that both the microscopists actually imagined they had read in his horoscope the inevitable necessity of his marriage with Dörtje. It was to this supposed necessity only they yielded, thinking to draw the greatest gain from the apparent loss of the little one, namely, by getting possession of Mr. Tyss and his talisman. But it may be easily supposed how little faith he must have in the science of the two microscopists, when neither of them was able to solve the centre-point of the horoscope. He did not, therefore at all yield to that pretended conjunction, which conditioned the necessity of his marriage with Gamaheh, and found no difficulty whatever in declaring positively that he renounced her hand in favour of his best friend George Pepusch, who had older and better claims to the fair one, and that he would not break his word upon any condition.
Swammerdam raised his green eyes which he had so long cast down, stared vehemently at Peregrine, and grinned with the cunning of a fox, as he said, if the friendship between him and Pepusch were the only scruple which kept him from giving free scope to his feelings, this obstacle existed no longer: Pepusch had perceived, although slightly touched with madness, his marriage with Dörtje was against the stars, and nothing could come from it but misery and destruction. He had therefore resigned all his pretensions, declaring only that, with his life, he would protect Gamaheh—who could belong to no one but his bosom-friend, Tyss—against the awkward dolt of an Amateur and the bloodthirsty Barber.
A cold shudder ran through Peregrine when he perceived, from Swammerdam’s thoughts, that all was true which he had spoken. Overpowered by the strangest and the most opposite feelings, he sank back upon his pillow and closed his eyes. The microscopist pressed him to come down himself, and hear from Dörtje’s mouth, from George’s, the present state of things, and then took his leave with as much ceremony as he had entered.
Master Flea, who sat the whole time quietly on the pillow, suddenly leaped up to the top of Peregrine’s nightcap. There he raised himself up on his long hind-legs, wrung his hands, stretched them imploringly to Heaven, and cried out in a voice half-stifled with tears,
“Woe to poor me! I already thought myself safe, and now comes the most dangerous trial. What avail me the courage, the constancy of my noble patron? I surrender myself! All is over.”
“Why,” said Mr. Tyss, in a faint voice, “Why do you lament so on my nightcap, my dear master? Do you fancy that you alone have to complain? that I myself am not in the unhappiest situation in the world? for my whole mind seems broken up, and I neither know what to do, nor which way to turn my thoughts. But do not fancy, my dear master, I am foolish enough to venture near the rock upon which all my resolutions might be shipwrecked. I shall take care not to follow Swammerdam’s invitation, and to avoid seeing the alluring Dörtje Elverdink.”
“In reality,” said Master Flea, after he had taken his old post upon the pillow, by Peregrine’s ear, “In reality I am not sure that I ought not to advise you to go at once to Swammerdam’s, however destructive it may appear to myself. It seems
