"The Sixth did it, and the table was beginning to go round quite nicely when they discovered that Linda was pushing the leg. I think pretty nearly everything occult has been tried here lately, except just one. We've not had any crystal gazing." "How d'you do that?" "Don't you remember that chapter in _Zilla, the Sahara Queen_? How she goes to the Coptic magician, and he pours some ink into a little boy's hand, and sees all her future in it?" "Ink would stain horribly," commented Ardiune. "Yes, I don't mean to use ink. What I want is a crystal. There's something on Gibbie's chimney-piece that would do jolly well. I believe I'll borrow it! I know just how to manage, because Mabel and Sylvia went to consult a psychist in Bond Street, and they told me all about it, and everything she said and did. As a matter of fact she described Mabel's fiance quite wrong, and pretended she saw him sitting in a dug-out, while all the time he was on a battleship; but they thought it great fun, because they hadn't really intended to believe her." "Would the girls believe you?" "Certainly not as Raymonde Armitage. I don't mean them to know me. We're going to disguise ourselves, so that our very mothers wouldn't own us." "Whew!" Ardiune looked decidedly sceptical. "Wait till I've done telling you before you pull faces, you old bluebottle! Can't you trust me by now to get up a decent rag? Yes, I'm offended! All right, I'll accept apologies. Now if you're really listening, I'll explain. You know the gipsies are camping down by the river. Everybody in the school has noticed their caravans, and realizes they're there. Now what's more natural than for a couple of these gipsies to stroll round by the barn some evening during recreation time, and offer to predict the future? Katherine and Ave could be in the secret, have their fortunes told first, and then bring others. We'd install ourselves in the old cow-house; it's so dark, no one would see us very plainly." "Ray, you've enough imagination for a novelist!" murmured Ardiune admiringly. Having settled their plan of campaign, the next step was to carry out details. The question of costume loomed largest. "We must look real gipsies, not stage ones," decreed Raymonde. "The thing's got to be done properly, if it's done at all."