As a preliminary to the fortune reading, two rush candles were lighted and the table cleared. Then upon it the sibyl drew a half circle with black charcoal and spread ancient cards round the circumference. Next she set up in the midst a lump of shining quartz, of the sort known as Cornish crystal, and into a natural cup within this stone she poured the black contents of a small, strangely shaped bottle. Now, bidding them be silent and motionless, with impenetrable gravity she went upon her knees beside the table and so remained for a long five minutes. Sometimes she gabbled to herself, sometimes she set her hands upon a conjunction of the outspread cards; but her eyes, as it appeared, never closed for a moment and never for a moment wandered from the little black lake in the quartz discerning-glass. John, deeply impressed, sat with his mouth open; and even the scholar felt his scepticism waning a trifle. Presently Gammer Gurney began to talk, and after much moonshine and a whole rigmarole of promises, predictions and cautions, the witch broke off and scanned the crystal with increased intensity. “Terrible coorious!” she murmured in an audible aside. “No such thing as this ever happened afore, I should judge. What’s the day of the month?” “Eighteen of December,” said John. “Exacally so! An’ if—theer! Of all straange fallings-out!” She gazed blankly at her guest until Timothy, despite his education at Blundell’s, grew a little uncomfortable. “Well, well, what’s amiss, mother? Out with it for good or ill. What pitfall is waiting for me—an early marriage?” “A maiden be waitin’ for ’e, Timothy Chave; an’ this very day—a grey-eyed young girl wi’ bright hair an’ cherry lips—this day—by picture an’ by crystal! She’m nearer than the coming snow—she’m at your elbow, man! Ess fay, first young woman as you see an’ speak with come the owl-light—her an’ none other will be your lifelong mate!” “Merciful to me! ’Tis ’most owl-light now!” gasped John Aggett. “By St. George, and the dragon too, I’m near my fate then! Up and off, John! I’ll see my bride before nightfall. Come on.” The woman huddled up her cards, cleaned the table and poured the black liquid into the fire. Timothy was eager to be gone, and now took an abrupt leave of his soothsayer; while as for Gammer Gurney, she stood like one in a dream and regarded Tim with vacant eyes. It was her custom thus to appear elevated in the spirit after exercise of her remarkable gifts. So they left her at her cottage door and started for home at a good pace. The fresh air contributed much to blow superstition out of Timothy’s mind; but his companion continued taciturn and was evidently impressed by what he had seen and heard. “She gave I goose-flesh down the spine, for all her outlandish fiery drink,” he said. “You’re a fool, John; an’ I’m a greater. A good guinea wasted.”