ne's neck. After a parting Venetian kiss she vanished, and went
to her hiding place in the cupboard.

Semiramis asked the oracle if the operation had been successful. The
answer was that she bore within her the seed of the sun, and that in the
beginning of next February she would be brought to bed of another self of
the same sex as the creator; but in order that the evil genii might not
be able to do her any harm she must keep quiet in her bed for a hundred
and seven hours in succession.

The worthy marchioness was delighted to receive this order, and looked
upon it as a good omen, for I had tired her dreadfully. I kissed her,
saying that I was going to the country to collect together what remained
of the substances that I had used in my ceremonies, but I promised to
dine with her on the morrow.

I shut myself up in my room with the Undine, and we amused ourselves as
best we could till it was night, for she could not go out while it was
light in her spiritual costume. I took off my handsome wedding garment,
and as soon as it was dusk we crept out, and went away to Marcoline's
lodging in a hackney coach, carrying with us the planetary offerings
which I had gained so cleverly.

We were dying of hunger, but the delicious supper which was waiting for
us brought us to life again. As soon as we got into the room Marcoline
took off her green clothes and put on her woman's dress, saying,--

"I was not born to wear the breeches. Here, take the beautiful necklace
the madwoman gave me!"

"I will sell it, fair Undine, and you shall have the proceeds."

"Is it worth much?"

"At least a thousand sequins. By the time you get back to Venice you will
be worth at least five thousand ducats, and you will be able to get a
husband and live with him in a comfortable style."

"Keep it all, I don't want it; I want you. I will never cease to love
you; I will do whatever you tell me, and I promise never to be jealous. I
will care for you--yes, as if you were my son."

"Do not let us say anything more about it, fair Marcoline, but let us go
to bed, for you have never inspired me with so much ardour as now."

"But you must be tired."

"Yes, but not exhaustion, for I was only able to perform the distillation
once."

"I thought you sacrificed twice on that old altar. Poor old woman! she is
still pretty, and I have no doubt that fifty years ago she was one of the
first beauties in France. How foolish of her to be thinking of love at
t