"Blessings on you, young lady," she exclaimed, "and may all the happiness that you now wish be your portion. You have a face that promises good fortune. Blessings on your golden hair and your blue eyes. I thank you," she concluded, bending her head. "Will not the gentlemen also give my little girl a keepsake?" The wild beauty held out her hand. "Her face is burnt by the sun; be kind to the poor dark girl," begged the old one, looking furtively round. The Professor shook his head. The Doctor got out his purse and placed a piece of gold in the hand of the woman. "Have you given up fortune-telling?" he asked laughingly. "Misfortune visits those who prophesy and those who ask," replied the gypsy woman. "Let the gentleman be on his guard against all that barks and scratches, for there is mischief in store for him from dogs and cats." Ilse and the Professor laughed. Meanwhile the eyes of the gypsy woman peered restlessly into the bushes. "We cannot tell fortunes," she continued. "We have no power over the future. And we make mistakes, like others. But we see much, my beautiful lady. And though you do not desire it, yet will I tell it you. The gentleman near you seeks a treasure, and he will find it. But he must take care lest he lose it. And you, proud lady, will be dear to a man that wears a crown, and you shall have the choice to become a queen. The choice and the torment," she added in a lower tone, and her eyes again wandered unquietly about. "Away with you," cried Ilse, indignantly; "such gossip does not agree with your professions." "We know nothing," murmured the gypsy woman humbly, grasping the talisman at her neck. "We have only our thoughts, and our thoughts are idle or true, according to a more powerful will. Farewell, my pretty lady," she cried out impressively, and strode with her companion into the darkness. "How proudly she walks away," exclaimed the Doctor. "I have much respect for the clever woman. She would not tell fortunes, but she could not help recommending herself by a bit of secret knowledge." "She has long ago learnt all about us from the laborers," replied Ilse, laughing. "Where have they pitched their camp?" asked the Doctor, with curiosity. "Probably beyond the village," answered Ilse. "You may see their fires in the valley. These strangers do not like people to come near their camp and see what they have for supper." They descended slowly into the valley and remained standing on the border of the brook, not far from the garden. All around them the darkness of the evening lay on bush and meadow. The old house stood out on the rock, gloomy under the twilight gray of the heavens. At their feet the water murmured and the leaves of the trees were agitated by the night wind. Silently did the three look upon the vanishing shadows of the landscape. The valley alongside the village lay invisible in the deep gloom of the night. Not one lighted window was to be seen.