The bearers and the men with the gilded wands forthwith clapped their
hands, and in silence danced round the palanquin a curious and
half-frantic dance, which was yet, as to figures and postures, perfectly
methodical. This was soon accompanied by a clapping of hands and a
ha-ha-ing, rhythmically delivered. While the dance was going on a hand was lightly laid on my arm, and,
looking round, a black domino with a white cross stood beside me. "I am so glad I have found you," said the Marquis; "and at this moment. This is the best group in the rooms. _You_ must speak to the
wizard. About an hour ago I lighted upon them, in another _salon,_
and consulted the oracle by putting questions. I never was more amazed. Although his answers were a little disguised it was soon perfectly plain
that he knew every detail about the business, which no one on earth had
heard of but myself, and two or three other men, about the most cautious
Persons in France. I shall never forget that shock. I saw other people
who consulted him, evidently as much surprised and more frightened than
I. I came with the Count de St. Alyre and the Countess." He nodded toward a thin figure, also in a domino. It was the Count. "Come," he said to me, "I'll introduce you." I followed, you may suppose, readily enough. The Marquis presented me, with a very prettily-turned allusion to my
fortunate intervention in his favor at the Belle Étoile; and the Count
overwhelmed me with polite speeches, and ended by saying, what pleased
me better still:

"The Countess is near us, in the next salon but one, chatting with her
old friend the Duchesse d'Argensaque; I shall go for her in a few
minutes; and when I bring her here, she shall make your acquaintance;
and thank you, also, for your assistance, rendered with so much courage
when we were so very disagreeably interrupted." "You must, positively, speak with the magician," said the Marquis to the
Count de St. Alyre, "you will be so much amused. _I_ did so; and, I
assure you, I could not have anticipated such answers! I don't know what
to believe." "Really! Then, by all means, let us try," he replied. We three approached, together, the side of the palanquin, at which the
black-bearded magician stood. A young man, in a Spanish dress, who, with a friend at his side, had
just conferred with the conjuror, was saying, as he passed us by:

"Ingenious mystification! Who is that in the palanquin? He seems to know
everybody!" The Count, in his mask and domino, moved along, stiffly, with us, toward
the palanquin. A clear circle was maintained by the Chinese attendants,
and the spectators crowded round in a ring. One of these men--he who with a gilded wand had preceded the
procession--advanced, extending his empty hand, palm upward. "Money?" inquired the Count. "Gold," replied the usher. The Count placed a piece of money in his hand; and I and the Marquis
were each called on in turn to do likewise as we entered the circle. We
paid accordingly. The conjuror stood beside the palanquin, its silk curtain in his hand;
his chin sunk, with its long, jet-black beard, on his chest; the outer
hand grasping the black wand, on which he leaned; his eyes were lowered,
as before, to the ground; his face looked absolutely lifeless. Indeed, I
never saw face or figure so moveless, except in death. The first
question the Count put, was: "Am I married, or unmarried?" The conjuror drew back the curtain quickly, and placed his ear toward a
richly-dressed Chinese, who sat in the litter; withdrew his head, and
closed the curtain again; and then answered: "Yes." The same preliminary was observed each time, so that the man with the
black wand presented himself, not as a prophet, but as a medium; and
answered, as it seemed, in the words of a greater than himself. Two or three questions followed, the answers to which seemed to amuse
the Marquis very much; but the point of which I could not see, for I
knew next to nothing of the Count's peculiarities and adventures. "Does my wife love me?" asked he, playfully. "As well as you deserve." "Whom do I love best in the world?" "Self." "Oh! That I fancy is pretty much the case with everyone. But, putting
myself out of the question, do I love anything on earth better than my
wife?" "Her diamonds." "Oh!" said the Count. The Marquis, I could see, laughed. "Is it true," said the Count, changing the conversation peremptorily,
"that there has been a battle in Naples?" "No; in France." "Indeed," said the Count, satirically, with a glance round. "And may I inquire between what powers, and on what particular quarrel?" "Between the Count and Countess de St. Alyre, and about a document they
subscribed on the 25th July, 1811." The Marquis afterwards told me that this was the date of their marriage
settlement. The Count stood stock-still for a minute or so; and one could fancy that
they saw his face flushing through his mask. Nobody, but we two, knew that the inquirer was the Count de St. Alyre. I thought he was puzzled to find a subject for his next question; and,
perhaps, repented having entangled himself in such a colloquy. If so, he
was relieved; for the Marquis, touching his arms, whispered. "Look to your right, and see who is coming." I looked in the direction indicated by the Marquis, and I saw a gaunt
figure stalking toward us. It was not a masque. The face was broad,
scarred, and white. In a word, it was the ugly face of Colonel
Gaillarde, who, in the costume of a corporal of the Imperial Guard, with
his left arm so adjusted as to look like a stump, leaving the lower part
of the coat-sleeve empty, and pinned up to the breast. There were strips
of very real sticking-plaster across his eyebrow and temple, where my
stick had left its mark, to score, hereafter, among the more honorable
scars of war. Chapter XIII

THE ORACLE TELLS ME WONDERS


I forgot for a moment how impervious my mask and domino were to the hard
stare of the old campaigner, and was preparing for an animated scuffle. It was only for a moment, of course; but the count cautiously drew a
little back as the gasconading corporal, in blue uniform, white vest,
and white gaiters--for my friend Gaillarde was as loud and swaggering in
his assumed character as in his real one of a colonel of dragoons--drew
near. He had already twice all but got himself turned out of doors for
vaunting the exploits of Napoleon le Grand, in terrific mock-heroics,
and had very nearly come to hand-grips with a Prussian hussar. In fact,
he would have been involved in several sanguinary rows already, had not
his discretion reminded him that the object of his coming there at all,
namely, to arrange a meeting with an affluent widow, on whom he believed
he had made a tender impression, would not have been promoted by his
premature removal from the festive scene of which he was an ornament, in
charge of a couple of _gendarmes_. "Money! Gold! Bah!