Raleigh's Page by Alan Armstrong

marks mean?” Andrew asked.
    “This was made in Baghdad a long time ago,” the doctor said. “The characters are Arabic numbers, degree marks, and names of the heavenly bodies.”
    Andrew thought about Mr. Harriot’s brass tube for looking at a distance: here was the second instrument he’d seen since coming to London that had something of the Arab about it.
    The doctor then brought out what he called his magic eye, the crystal ball Mr. Raleigh had mentioned. He pored over it for a long time.
    “I see travel and trading,” he said at last. “You will get an honest sufficiency but not more.”
    He looked up. “More than sufficiency brings greater grief than less. Keep your conscience clean, and your teeth. Teeth are the guardians to health. Riches cannot buy a clean conscience or good health.”
    He unhooked the disk and put his glass away. Andrew wanted to know more about his future, but the doctor was on to something else.
    “What have you noticed about Mr. Raleigh?” he asked.
    “Nothing—I mean, everything, sir! I mean, I have just begun his service,” Andrew stammered.
    “Yes,” said the doctor gently, “but what have you found most remarkable?”
    Andrew stood bewildered. “What he knows about maps and plants, medicines, ships…”
    The doctor was shaking his head.
    “His scent?” Andrew asked at last.
    “Yes, that,” the doctor said. “It is sweet, yet he wears no perfume. What else?”
    Andrew shook his head.
    “He is like the kept dog in the Aesop fable,” the doctor replied at last. “Do you know that story?”
    “No, sir.”
    “One winter day at dusk a wolf came into a farmer’s yard, drawn by the scent of roasting meat. The wolf was gaunt and ragged. As he approached the door, he was greeted by the farmer’s dog. The dog was sleek. There was no getting past him, so the wolf stopped and bowed politely.
    “‘You are handsome, my friend,’ said the wolf. ‘How is it you feed so well?’
    “The dog swelled his chest. ‘I guard the farmer against robbers. For this he gives me all the food I want and a house by his door.’
    “‘Ah,’ said the wolf. ‘Do you think I might join you in this work?’
    “‘You have good teeth and claws to fight with,’” the dog said, studying the wolf. ‘Perhaps he could use you.’
    “Just then a flea annoyed the dog. He shook his ruff. There was a rattle of chain.
    “‘What’s that around your neck?’ the wolf asked.
    “‘The collar I wear to stay in place,’ the dog replied.
    “‘Oh,’ said the wolf. ‘Then I think I’ll be off. I’d rather be hungry and free than fed and not.’
    “You see,” the doctor continued, “the Queen feeds and houses Mr. Raleigh, but his leash is too short for him to sail to America. If his exploring captains give a good report and the expedition goes, he won’t be along. The Queen keeps him tied to Court.”
    “Why?” Andrew asked.
    “She cannot risk his loss. He is one of the few she can tell her mind to.”
    Doctor Dee grew silent. He looked at Andrew and nodded.
    “You have a good plan. Your sign is friendly to adventure. Merchants are heirs to adventure, but your fortune will hang on winds—a fair breeze may bring your fortune, a storm sink it. Men will live better for your risks; your failures will cost them nothing. That’s the way it is with merchants. London gets more intelligence from her traders than from all her scholars.”
    He paused.
    “Avoid the trade in human flesh. Mr. Raleigh’s sea dog friends Francis Drake and his kinsman John Hawkins do well by slaves, but it is an evil business. What one handles one becomes.”
    It was now late afternoon. The doctor had given Andrew dinner and the lesson Mr. Raleigh had requested, and he’d told the boy his future. It was time to leave, but Andrew didn’t have the map.
    He took a deep breath.
    “Sir, your new map…”
    “Yes?”
    “It’s like nothing we have,” Andrew whispered.
    The doctor looked at him steadily, saying