urious chair, she sat down beside her, and
began the conversation with the usual platitudes and commonplaces of the
time, dwelling longer upon them than need was, as if she hesitated or
feared to bring up the real subject of this midnight conference.

"My Lady is fair to look on. All women will admit that; all men swear to
it!" said La Corriveau, in a harsh voice that grated ominously, like
the door of hell which she was opening with this commencement of her
business.

Angelique replied only with a smile. A compliment from La Corriveau even
was not wasted upon her; but just now she was on the brink of an abyss
of explanation, looking down into the dark pit, resolved, yet hesitating
to make the plunge.

"No witch or witchery but your own charms is needed, Mademoiselle,"
continued La Corriveau, falling into the tone of flattery she often used
towards her dupes, "to make what fortune you will in this world; what
pearl ever fished out of the sea could add a grace to this wondrous hair
of yours? Permit me to touch it, Mademoiselle!"

La Corriveau took hold of a thick tress, and held it up to the light of
the lamp, where it shone like gold. Angelique shrank back as from the
touch of fire. She withdrew her hair with a jerk from the hand of La
Corriveau. A shudder passed through her from head to foot. It was the
last parting effort of her good genius to save her.

"Do not touch it!" said she quickly; "I have set my life and soul on
a desperate venture, but my hair--I have devoted it to our Lady of St.
Foye; it is hers, not mine! Do not touch it, Dame Dodier."

Angelique was thinking of a vow she had once made before the shrine of
the little church of Lorette. "My hair is the one thing belonging to me
that I will keep pure," continued she; "so do not be angry with me," she
added, apologetically.

"I am not angry," replied La Corriveau, with a sneer. "I am used to
strange humors in people who ask my aid; they always fall out with
themselves before they fall in with La Corriveau."

"Do you know why I have sent for you at this hour, good Dame Dodier?"
asked Angelique, abruptly.

"Call me La Corriveau; I am not good Dame Dodier. Mine is an ill name,
and I like it best, and so should you, Mademoiselle, for the business
you sent me for is not what people who say their prayers call good. It
was to find your lost jewels that Fanchon Dodier summoned me to your
abode, was it not?" La Corriveau uttered this with a suppressed smil