We had no sooner risen and rung for our breakfast, than the host entered our room, holding in his hand a large sheet of paper, which he presented to my companion. “Messieurs,” he said, bowing to the ground, “here is a list of the people who wish to consult you this evening, and who have entered their names here.” “Very well--give it to me. Have you written the names, titles, age and occupation of each one?” “They are all there, monsieur.” “Very good. Leave us, and send your servant Clairette to us for a moment; I have some orders to give her relative to my séance this evening.” The host bowed with the respect of a Chinaman passing a mandarin, and left the room, promising to send the girl to us at once. My companion scanned the list; it was quite long and promised numerous proselytes. The little hunchback was reading it aloud and indulging in preliminary conjectures concerning the names, when Clairette entered the room. The girl seemed rather embarrassed. She kept her eyes on the floor and her hands wrapped in her apron. For my part, I was as red as fire, and I did not know what to say. Clairette’s presence caused a revolution in my whole being; I was honestly in love with her; I felt a genuine passion for her; and after the proofs of affection which she had given me during the night, I believed that she loved me sincerely. I think that if I had been told then that I must marry the little servant, or else give her up forever, I should not have hesitated to give her my hand! And what I felt, I will wager that many young men have felt like me. One loves so earnestly the first time!--Ah! my dear Sans-Souci, I was very young then and very green! But I have learned since that the more experience one acquires, the less pleasure one has. My companion locked the door. No curious person must overhear our conversation with Clairette. Then he returned to us and opened the interview with a roar of laughter, which made me open my eyes in amazement, while Clairette dropped the corners of her apron. “My friends, you are still rather unsophisticated,” he said at last; “you, my dear Jacques, who are in love with a girl who will have forgotten you to-morrow; and you, my little Clairette, who believe in witchcraft, and imagine that a person can look young all her life. We are no more magicians than other men are, my dear girl; but you must help us to impose on the fools who contend for the pleasure of consulting us. You must do whatever we want, first, because that will give you an opportunity to make fun of lots of people, which is always pleasant; and secondly, because we will pay you handsomely--I with money, and this young man with love; and if you should refuse to help us, you would deprive yourself of a large number of little perquisites that are not often to be had in a small town.”