The prince paused a moment, seeming to collect his sad remembrances of Beaumetz, and I could not but admire the singular good fortune which had caused him to abandon his voyage to India. How different might have been the fate of France, nay, of Europe, had he sailed in that ship! Well may he have gained among his friends the title of “Fortune’s master!” “But what was really the motive of your first suspicion of the murderous intent of Beaumetz?” said one of the company. “I know not to this very hour,” replied the Prince de Talleyrand; “it was not his eye, for I was not looking at him at the moment, I was gazing at the sublime view which he himself was pointing out to my notice;—it was not in the tone of his voice either, in which lay the warning of my danger; it was a sudden and mysterious impulse for which I have never been able to account—one of those startling and fearful mysteries which even the strongest minds are contented to accept without inquiry, being satisfied that such things are, and never daring to ask wherefore. Many persons, the _Illuminés_ for example, who ruled the _monde philosophique_ for so long a period, have ascribed this sudden revelation of the hidden TRUTH entirely to the effects of magnetism, and there are instances well known, wherein the great masters of the art have been able to produce the same effect at pleasure. Cagliostro, to whom I once mentioned the circumstance, had often obtained the same results by his wonderful powers of magnetism.” “What, _mon prince_, have you ever seen Cagliostro?” exclaimed the fair Duchess de V., raising her head from her tapestry frame, and gazing into the prince’s face, with an amusing expression of wonder and of awe. “Ay, that have I,” returned the prince, gravely; “often have I seen him, fair lady, and am not of those who condemn him at once, without examination, unthinkingly, as an impostor; for the man _believed_ himself: no wonder, then, that he could so easily persuade others.” “Oh, now, do tell us something about this Cagliostro!” exclaimed the young duchess, shaking back her fair ringlets, as she leant eagerly forward, and laid her white and jewelled hand upon the elbow of the prince’s chair; “do tell us all about your interview with the famous magician; but mind, tell us the truth. Where did he live?—how did he look?—what did he wear?” “Nay,” returned the prince, smiling, “were I to tell all I know concerning him, my story would not be done till to-morrow night, at this same hour.” We all involuntarily followed the direction of his gaze towards the clock upon the mantelpiece. Alas! the hand was wearing round, and stood within a very few minutes of the hour of one. “We must defer the story of Cagliostro’s wonders till another time,” said he, “but you shall not lose by waiting. _Vous n’y perdrez rien, madame._ But you shall sleep _this_ night at least in peace; which you might never do again should you happen to _believe_! So, messieurs, _bonne nuit—à demain_.”