“She continued, for the space of at least an hour, in a state of inspiration, never ceasing, during all that time, to hold on her discourse with the same unhesitating eloquence. She spoke of Alexander, ‘the white angel of the north,’ predicting for him and his descendants, glory, happiness, and honour, unlimited sway from the rising of the sun to the setting of the same. Then did she revert to the black angel of the south, foretelling that he ‘would escape from his second cage like a chained lion.’ “The prophecies were uttered with a self-confidence, an implicit belief, which I could not but admire; it was so well calculated to inspire the same feeling in others. The only drawback was the reflection that none of them had as yet come true. “This state of _extase_ lasted for some time after the prayer was ended, during which the whole assembly remained kneeling. I bent forward and looked through the open door; not a single gesture of impatience, not a single wandering glance could I detect among the crowd. Every head was bent low. Some even kissed the very floor; and it really was a curious sight to behold those dainty ladies, those gaily-dressed courtiers, whose costume of white kerseymere knee-breeches and silk stockings was anything but favourable to the kneeling posture, remain thus without a murmur, so long as it pleased the fair preacher to hold them in expectation that she would resume her discourse. “The prayer was ended at length, and every one arose, gently, without confusion and without noise, and sank again into their seats in silent meditation, which continued undisturbed by a single sound for several minutes. The prophetess had fallen back upon her ottoman, and her golden locks completely buried her face beneath their shadow. I would have given much to have been sure of the expression of her countenance, for once I became aware that her eye sought mine, and then I observed that she turned aside to avoid my scrutiny. Bergasse sprang to my side in delight and triumph. ‘Is she not splendid?’ inquired he, with a naïveté of tone and manner at which I was highly amused. ‘You have heard her in her glory to-night,’ he whispered in my ear, with an air of the greatest mystery, while his countenance changed from the expression of childish admiration, which it had worn when he had addressed me, to that of awe and wonder—‘She has had a _pressentiment_, and is under its influence still.’ He took my arm, and walked with me through the crowd into the adjoining room. “As I left the sacred boudoir, I beheld the ‘white angel of the north’ in busy conversation with the prophetess, and the unhappy King of Prussia bending forward, eager to catch the slightest syllable which fell from the lips of the speakers; but the effort was vain; his neck was too short, and his eye wandered from the one to the other with the restless, unquiet look of a person afflicted with deafness.