The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2, No 3, September, 1862: Devoted to Literature and National Policy.Various
General
The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2, No 3, September, 1862: Devoted to Literature and National Policy.
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
'The dark curtain suddenly fell, and the singular vision faded with the
reflected light which had filled the room. The moment after, I heard the
shuffling feet of the slattern girl coming to show us out of the room,
but, singularly enough, as you will think, not out of the _house_!
Without a word we followed her--Adolph, who knew the customs of the
place, merely slipping a five-franc piece into her hand, and in a moment
more we were out in the street and walking up the Rue Saint Denis. It is
not worth while to detail the conversation which followed between us as
we passed up to the Rue Marie Stuart, I to my lodgings and Adolph to his
own, further on, close to the Rue Vivienne, and not far from the
Boulevard Montmartre. Of course I asked him fifty questions, the replies
to which left me quite as much in the dark as before. He knew, he said,
and hundreds of other persons in Paris knew, the singularity of the
personal appearance of the sorceress, and her apparent power of
divination, but neither he nor they had any knowledge of her origin. He
had been introduced at her house several months before, and had asked
questions affecting his family in Prussia and the chances of descent of
certain property, the replies to which had astounded him. He had heard
of her using marvelous and fearful incantations, but had never himself
witnessed any thing of them. In two or three instances, before the
present, he had taken friends to the house and introduced them under any
name which he chose to apply to them for the time, and the sorceress had
never before chosen to call him to account for the deception, though,
according to the assurances of his friends after leaving the house, she
had never failed to arrive at the truth of their nationalities and
positions in life. There must have been something in myself or my
circumstances, he averred, which had produced so singular an effect upon
the witch, (as he evidently believed her to be,) and he had the
impression that at no distant day I should again hear from her. That was
all, and so we parted, I in any other condition of mind than that
promising sleep, and really without closing my eyes, except for a moment
or two at a time, during the night which followed. When I did attempt to
force myself into slumber, a red spectre stood continually before me, an
unearthly light seemed to sear my covered eyeballs, and I awoke with a
start. Days passed before I sufficiently wore away the impression to be
comfortable, and at least two or three weeks before my rest became again
entirely unbroken.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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