"Nay, I have nothing to tell, but I wish to do something: I wish to make a play, and you shall see things in your hand." "Oh! yes, shew me, do shew me." "If you promise not to tell." "No, by the Holy Virgin, I will not." "Then you shall see." Amine lighted some charcoal in a chafing dish, and put it at her feet; she then took a reed pen, some ink from a small bottle, and a pair of scissors, and wrote down several characters on a paper, singing, or rather chanting, words which were not intelligible to her young companion. Amine then threw frankincense and coriander seed into the chafing dish, which threw out a strong aromatic smoke; and desiring Pedro to sit down by her on a small stool, she took the boy's right hand and held it in her own. She then drew upon the palm of his hand a square figure with characters on each side of it, and in the centre poured a small quantity of the ink, so as to form a black mirror of the size of a half-a-crown. "Now all is ready," said Amine; "look, Pedro, what see you in the ink?" "My own face," replied the boy. She threw more frankincense upon the chafing dish, until the room was full of smoke, and then chanted. "Turshoon, turyo-shoon--come down, come down. "Be present, ye servants of these names. "Remove the veil, and be correct." The characters she had drawn upon the paper she had divided with the scissors, and now taking one of the pieces, she dropped it into the chafing dish, still holding the boy's hand. "Tell me now, Pedro, what do you see?" "I see a man sweeping," replied Pedro, alarmed. "Fear not, Pedro, you shall see more. Has he done sweeping?" "Yes, he has." And Amine muttered words, which were unintelligible, and threw into the chafing dish the other half of the paper with the characters she had written down. "Say now, Pedro, Philip Vanderdecken, appear." "Philip Vanderdecken, appear!" responded the boy, trembling. "Tell me what thou seest, Pedro--tell me true?" said Amine, anxiously. "I see a man lying down on the white sand; (I don't like this play.)" "Be not alarmed, Pedro, you shall have sweetmeats directly. Tell me what thou seest, how the man is dressed?" "He has a short coat--he has white trousers--he looks about him--he takes something out of his breast and kisses it." "'Tis he! 'tis he! and he lives! Heaven, I thank thee. Look again, boy." "He gets up (I don't like this play; I am frightened; indeed I am.)" "Fear not." "Oh, yes, I am--I cannot," replied Pedro, falling on his knees; "pray let me go," Pedro had turned his hand, and spilt the ink, the charm was broken, and Amine could learn no more. She soothed the boy with presents, made him repeat his promise that he would not tell, and postponed further search into fate until the boy should appear to have recovered from his terror, and be willing to resume the ceremonies. "My Philip lives--mother, dear mother, I thank you."