Such were the Rev. Mr. Worden's sentiments on the subject of Mother Doortje's revelations. He exacted a pledge from us all, to say nothing about the matter; nor were we much disposed to be communicative on the subject. As for Guert, Dirck, Jason, and myself, we did not hesitate to converse on the circumstances of our visits, among ourselves, however; and each and all of us viewed the matter some what differently from our Mentor. I ascertained that Jason had been highly gratified with what had been predicted on his own behalf; for what was wealth in his eyes had been foretold as his future lot; and a man rarely quarrels with good fortune, whether in prospective, or in possession. Dirck, though barely twenty, began to talk of living a single life from this time; and no laughter of mine could induce the poor lad to change his views, or to entertain livelier hopes. Guert was deeply impressed, as has been said; and feeling no restraint in the matter of his own case, he took occasion to speak of his visit to the woman, one morning that Herman Mordaunt, the two ladies, Bulstrode, and myself, were sitting together, chatting, in the freedom of what had now become a very constant intercourse. “Are such things as fortune-tellers known in England, Mr. Bulstrode?” Guert abruptly commenced, fastening his eyes on Mary Wallace, as he asked the question; for on her were his thoughts running at the time. “All sorts of silly things are to be found in Old England, Mr. Ten Eyck, as well as some that are wise. I believe London has one or two soothsayers; and I think I have heard elderly people say that the fashion of consulting them has somewhat increased, since the court has been so German.” “Yes,” Guert innocently replied; “I find it easy to believe that; for, it is a common saying, among our people, that the German and Low Dutch fortune-tellers are the best known. They have had, or pretend to have had, witches in New England; but no one, hereabouts, puts any faith in the pretence. It is like all the bragging of these boastful Yankees!” I observed that Mary Wallace's colour deepened; and that, in biting off a thread, she profited, by the occasion, to avert her face in such a manner, that Bulstrode, in particular, could not see it. “The meaning of all this,” put in Major Bulstrode “is, that our friend Guert has been to pay a visit to Mother Doortje's; a woman of some note, who lives on the hill, and who has a reputation, in that way, among these good Albanians! Several of our mess have been to see the old woman.”