e Julie
at the breast, and all her life she fostered and attended her. To her
little white '_mamselle_' she was all gentleness and kindness, but to
others she was fierce and frightful, for she was a 'conjon woman,'
adept at obeah, the black magic of the Congo, and among the blacks she
ruled as queen by force of fear, while the whites were wont to treat
her with respect and, it was more than merely whispered, retain her
services upon occasion. She could sell protection to the duelist, and
he who bore her charm would surely conquer on the field of honor; she
brewed love-drafts which turned the hearts and heads of the most
capricious coquettes or the most constant wives, as occasion
warranted; by merely staring fixedly at someone she could cause him to
take sick and die, and--here we commence to tread upon our own
terrain--she was said to have the power of changing to a snake at
will.

"Very good. You follow? When poor young Julie died of heartbreak it
was old Maman Dragonne--the little white one's _grand'tante_--who
watched beside her bed. It is said she stood beside her mistress'
coffin and called a curse upon the fickle lover; swore he would come
back and die beside the body of the sweetheart he deserted. She also
made a prophecy. Julie should have many loves, but her body should not
know corruption nor her spirit rest until she could find one to keep
his promise and return to her with words of love upon his lips. Those
who failed her should die horribly, but he who kept his pledge would
bring her rest and peace. This augury she made while she stood beside
her mistress' coffin just before they sealed it in the tomb in old
Saint Denis Cemetery. Then she disappeared."

"You mean she ran away?" I asked.

"I mean she disappeared, vanished, evanesced, evaporated. She was
never seen again, not even by the people who stood next to her when
she pronounced her prophecy."

"But----"

"No buts, my friend, if you will be so kind. Years later, when the
British stormed New Orleans, Lieutenant Merriwell was there with
General Andrew Jackson. He survived the battle like a man whose life
is charmed, though all around him comrades fell and three horses were
shot under him. Then, when the strife was done, he went to the grand
banquet tendered to the victors. While gayety was at its height he
abruptly left the table. Next morning he was found upon the grass
before the tomb of Julie d'Ayen. He was dead. He died from snake-bite.

"T