Then Baron Armand de Chatel-morant paced the room a long time in gloomy meditation. At length he sat down again, and said aloud: "There is no doubt of it--I am in love. That face haunts me; Toinette's face is ever floating opposite to me. 'Tis an odd feeling; I was never so before. But, since it is so, I must even have the maiden--she will cheer me--I love her face. I will send to-morrow to Bordeaux, as from her uncle; and when she comes here, by the star of Aldeboran, she stays here, Jacques Fort to the contrary notwithstanding!" "Wrong--quite wrong!" said a voice. The baron turned coolly round, and saw, sitting upon the arm of the chair close to him, the figure of a very thin dwarf, with a long, unearthly face, and fingers like hawks' claws. This was the imp--the baron's Familiar. "How, Klosso!" said Armand; "you come without being called?" "Yes; but you would have called me soon." "You know what I am thinking of--of Toinette. I love her--I must have her." "You will not have her." "Why so?" "Because it is so decreed." "Klosso," said the baron, "I don't believe you. You know the future; but you lie about it when you speak." "Will you, then," answered the demon, "look into the crystal: that can't lie. Come--it's only another year--give yourself a treat--come!" "I have given you many years already," said the baron, musing; "look how grey my hair is!" "Dye it," said the imp, who, if he was a Familiar, certainly behaved as such. But the baron took no notice of his impertinence. He was dreadfully smitten by Toinette, and said he'd have a twelvemonths' worth of knowledge of futurity for her sake. The thin dwarf grinned, and then made a motion of relief, as one who saw before him the speedy end of a long, long watch. So he took the crystal, uttered, as may be supposed, some magic words; and the baron looked upon the clear surface. "Malediction!" he exclaimed, as he saw in the crystal a huge hearth, with pots on the fire, and poultry roasting before it, and Toinette tending the cookery, and a stalwart fellow helping her clumsily. "That is Toinette!" cried the baron; "but who is the rascal with her?" "Her husband, Jacques Fort." "Curses on him!" Here the baron saw Jacques fling his arm round Toinette's waist, and kiss her so naturally, that he ground his teeth. "Domestic felicity," said the imp; "a charming picture, baron--they're cooking the christening feast for young Jacques." The baron flung the crystal down. "Pay me," said the imp; and he passed the bird-like hand over the baron's face, and each of his fingers drew a wrinkle. A shudder went over the sorcerer's frame, and then he breathed heavily, and looked wistfully at the imp. He was a year older. "Klosso!" shouted Armand, leaping to his feet, "I will fight fate!" "Better not," said Klosso. "Curse the future!" exclaimed the baron; "I will alter the future, and give the lie to the crystal, as to you!"