"At what epoch?" "If I had drawn up your horoscope, I could have told you almost to an hour. So far as I can see, it will occur before your eighteenth year is accomplished." "I shall be eighteen next Friday!" "In that case the hour approaches. Be prepared. I see something else. Several men love you." "How can you see that in my hand?" "Child! I am reading your mind at this moment; it is like an open book to me." Esther would have withdrawn her hand, but that she felt it imprisoned as in a vise. The woman stood erect and rigid before her, her eye vitreous, with difficulty expelling her breath between her half open lips. At last she spoke as one in a dream. "There are three! One is dressed in black." "Reuben!" murmured Esther. "The other is a fine gentleman." "And the third?" "The third! I cannot distinguish his features.--Yes,--now I see him!--Why, how singular!" "Why?" "He resembles the second!" "Ah!" "And he holds in his hand--" "What does he hold?" "A pencil, I think; yes, he is an artist." After a brief pause she resumed,-- "Two of these men will soon disappear, but the worthiest will marry you and you will be a great lady." A flash of pride illumined Esther's eyes. "Should your prophesy be realized," she said, "seek me out, and I will give you this ring which you see upon my hand." "I do not want your ring; give me rather the handkerchief which you hold." "Why do you wish this valueless thing? Is it that you are my well-wisher? Do you love me?" "I hate you, as I hate all Christians; but I have need, for an incantation, of an object which has belonged to a virgin." As Esther hesitated, the gypsy snatched the filmy tissue from her hand and fled, vanishing round an angle in the wall like an apparition. Considerably disturbed in mind, Esther remained some time motionless upon the spot where the gypsy had left her. It seemed to her that the strange creature had exhaled a sort of torpor which she could not shake off. At last she closed the gate and stepped back. As she did so she noticed a bit of folded paper lying at her feet and picked it up. Unfolding it, she read these lines:-- "You love me. I feel it, know it. Have confidence in my love and honor. I long to tear you from the slavery in which you live to dwell with me in brightness and joy. Go to the Pantheon on Friday next wearing a brown domino with blue rosettes, and when you hear behind you these words, 'The moon is risen,' directly leave the person who will accompany you and follow the one who will take your hand. Ir order to assure me that you consent, send me some article which you have worn. I cannot be mistaken in the scent of vervain, which you love. While inhaling it, it will seem as though I inhaled your breath, as though I held my Esther in my arms." No address, no signature. But the origin of the missive was no more doubtful than its destination.