“She was a pretty young creature, with pink cheeks and dark eyes, and a forlorn expression of countenance which didn’t seem at all to fit in with her blooming health. Not from the town, or I should have known her face; evidently come from one of the country parishes to sell her butter and eggs. I was interested to discover what she wanted the ‘dragon’s blood’ for, and after a certain amount of hesitation she told me. ‘They do say it’s good, sir, if anything should have happened betwixt you an’ your young man.’ ‘Then you have a young man?’ said I. ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘And you’ve fallen out with him?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ And tears rose to her eyes at the admission, while her mouth rounded with awe at my amazing perspicacity. ‘And you mean to send him some dragon’s blood as a love potion?’ ‘No, sir; you’ve got to mix it with water you’ve fetched from the Three Sisters’ Well, and drink it yourself in nine sips on nine nights running, and get into bed without once looking in the glass, and then if you’ve done everything properly, and haven’t made any mistake, he’ll come back to you, an’ love you twice as much as before.’ ‘And la mère Todevinn (Tostevin) gave you that precious recipe, and made you cross her hand with silver into the bargain,’ said I severely; on which the tears began to flow outright. “You know the old lady,” said Mauger, breaking off his narration, “who lives in the curious stone house at the corner of the market-place? A reputed witch who learned both black and white magic from her mother, who was a daughter of Hélier Mouton, the famous sorcerer of Cakeuro. I could tell you some funny stories relating to la Mère Todevinn, who numbers more clients among the officers and fine ladies here than in any other class; and very curious, too, is the history of that stone house, with the Brancourt arms still sculptured on the side. You can see them, if you turn down by the Water-gate. This old sinister-looking building, or rather portion of a building, for more modern houses have been built over the greater portion of the site, and now press upon it from either hand, once belonged to one of the finest mansions in the islands, but through a curse and a crime has been brought down to its present condition; while the Brancourt family have long since been utterly extinct. But all this isn’t the story of Elsie Mahy, which turned out to be the name of my little customer. “The Mahys are of the Vauvert parish, and Pierre Jean, the father of this girl, began life as a day-labourer, took to tomato-growing on borrowed capital, and now owns a dozen glass-houses of his own. Mrs. Mahy does some dairy-farming on a minute scale, the profits of which she and Miss Elsie share as pin-money. The young man who is courting Elsie is a son of Toumes the builder. He probably had something to do with the putting up of Mahy’s greenhouses, but anyhow, he has been constantly over at Vauvert during the last six months, superintending the alterations at de Câterelle’s place.