"Can Cziko show me the way to Berkow?" he said, going up to the woman and offering her a few pieces of money. The gypsy swept the money from his open hand, as if she only wanted to see the lines in it better, and holding it by the tips of the fingers, she seemed to study them eagerly. "Well," said Oswald, "not much that is good there?" "Much good, much evil," said the gypsy, shaking her head. "That is the way of life," said Oswald, "and what is the good?" "Much good, much evil," repeated the woman. "Every good line crossed by a bad line; cannot tell you the good without the evil." "Well then, read it as it comes!" said Oswald "Much happiness, and yet not happy," murmured the gypsy. "The enemy of men and the friend of women; quick to hate, quick to love; varied life, early death." "Well," said Oswald, "I do not object to that. But how about the women? I am interested in that." "Much good, much evil," repeated the woman, bending still lower over the hand, as if she did not wish the faintest line to escape her. "Much love, very much love, and yet so little happiness, ah! so little!" "Am I in love now?" "Yes." "And with whom?" "A very great lady, very beautiful and very rich." "Hm! And does she love me?" "More, far more, than you love her." "And where is the evil?" "Much evil, much evil! You cannot be faithful." "How do you know that?" The fortune-teller shrugged her shoulders. "Here stands another lady, and there still another--you love them all. That ought not to be. Brings you no good luck." "But about the varied life and early death, is that quite sure? Well then, the harm cannot be so very great. Here, take this as a reward for your good news." "Thanks. Take only for good luck, which I foretell, not for ill luck." "Then I do not wonder that you are so poor, my good woman. Then take it for the trouble I am giving Cziko." The gypsy took the money with real or feigned reluctance, and called the boy, who had, in the mean time, continued to improvise new melodies on his instrument. She whispered a few words in his ear, in her own language, and at once the boy started up and said to Oswald: "Will you follow me, sir?" "Good-by, my good woman," said Oswald, looking with a feeling of interest into the dark, brilliant eyes of the gypsy woman. "When you come to Grenwitz, you must not forget to ask for Doctor Stein." The woman crossed her arms over her swelling bosom and bowed low. Oswald picked up his hat and followed Cziko, who was already half concealed by the trees. CHAPTER XII. "Not so fast, Cziko," cried Oswald, loosening his coat from the thorns of a bush; "have a little consideration for my state of civilization."