amp grew fainter at the same moment, and the
room was left lighted up only by the chafing dish; every object now
assumed a fantastic air that did not fail to disquiet the two visitors,
but it was too late to draw back.

The soothsayer placed the chafing dish in the middle of the room,
presented the paper to the young woman who had spoken, and said to her--

"Write down what you wish to know."

The woman took the paper with a steadier hand than might have been
expected, seated herself at a table, and wrote:--

"Am I young? Am I beautiful? Am I maid, wife, or widow? This is for
the past.

"Shall I marry, or marry again? Shall I live long, or shall I die young?
This is for the future."

Then, stretching out her hand to the soothsayer, she asked--

"What am I to do now with this?"

"Roll that letter around this ball," answered the other, handing to the
unknown a little ball of virgin wax. "Both ball and letter will be
consumed in the flame before your eyes; the spirit knows your secrets
already. In three days you will have the answer."

The unknown did as the sibyl bade her; then the latter took from her
hands the ball and the paper in which it was wrapped, and went and threw
both into the chafing pan.

"And now all is done as it should be," said the soothsayer. "Comus!"

The dwarf came in.

"See the lady to her coach."

The stranger left a purse upon the table, and followed Comus. He
conducted her and her companion, who was only a confidential maid, down a
back staircase, used as an exit, and leading into a different street from
that by which the two women had come in; but the coachman, who had been
told beforehand of this circumstance, was awaiting them at the door, and
they had only to step into their carriage, which bore them rapidly away
in the direction of the rue Dauphine.

Three days later, according to the promise given her, the fair unknown,
when she awakened, found on the table beside her a letter in an
unfamiliar handwriting; it was addressed "To the beautiful Provencale,"
and contained these words--

"You are young; you are beautiful; you are a widow. This is for the
present.

"You will marry again; you will die young, and by a violent death.
This is for the future.
THE SPIRIT."

The answer was written upon a paper like that upon which the questions
had been set down.

The marquise turned pale and uttered a faint cry of terror; the answer