governor of the child,
who will be your son. In this manner you will keep all my property for
me, including what I shall have from my brother M. de Pontcarre, who is
old and cannot live much longer. If you do not care for me in February
next, when I shall be born again, into what hands shall I fall! I shall
be called a bastard, and my income of twenty-four thousand francs will be
lost to me. Think over it, dear Galtinardus. I must tell you that I feel
already as if I were a man. I confess I am in love with the Undine, and I
should like to know whether I shall be able to sleep with her in fourteen
or fifteen years time. I shall be so if Oromasis will it, and then I
shall be happy indeed. What a charming creature she is? Have you ever
seen a woman like her? What a pity she is dumb!"

"She, no doubt, has a male water-spirit for a lover. But all of them are
dumb, since it is impossible to speak in the water. I wonder she is not
deaf as well. I can't think why you didn't touch her. The softness of her
skin is something wonderful--velvet and satin are not to be compared to
it! And then her breath is so sweet! How delighted I should be if I could
converse with such an exquisite being."

"Dear Galtinardus, I beg you will consult the oracle to find out where I
am to be brought to bed, and if you won't marry me I think I had better
save all I have that I may have some provision when I am born again, for
when I am born I shall know nothing, and money will be wanted to educate
me. By selling the whole a large sum might be realized which could be put
out at interest. Thus the interest would suffice without the capital
being touched."

"The oracle must be our guide," said I. "You will be my son, and I will
never allow anyone to call you a bastard."

The sublime madwoman was quiet by this assurance.

Doubtless many a reader will say that if I had been an honest man I
should have undeceived her, but I cannot agree with them; it would have
been impossible, and I confess that even if it had been possible I would
not have done so, for it would only have made me unhappy.

I had told Marcoline to dress with elegance, and I put on one of my
handsomest suits to accompany her to the theatre. Chance brought the two
sisters Rangoni, daughters of the Roman consul, into our box. As I had
made their acquaintance on my first visit to Marseilles, I introduced
Marcoline to them as my niece, who only spoke Italian. As the two young
ladies spoke t