r birth," answered
Castalio, "compare the horoscope I shall then draw with the lines of
your face and the marks on your hands, and afterward give free range
to my mind in contemplating the results, I hardly doubt my being able
to tell you something about your destinies."

Antonio gave him a pocket-book, in which his father had himself noted
down the hour of his birth. Castalio placed some wine before the young
men, himself partaking a little of it, turned over a few books, and
then sat down to calculate, without however entirely breaking off his
conversation with his guests. It only seemed as if the cheerful young
man had some common business in hand, which was far from requiring the
whole of his attention. Thus amid laughing and lively talk an hour may
have past away, when Castalio stood up and beckoned to Antonio to go
with him to the window.

"I know not, he began, how far you trust your friend there, or what
you may wish to keep secret from him."

Hereupon he examined Antonio's face and hands very minutely, and then
in regular connexion told him the story of his parents and their
misfortunes, the early violent death of his mother, and his father's
sinful passion, together with his murder by the hand of his wicked
complice. Afterward he came to Antonio's own affairs, how he had
sought for the murderer and pursued him, and had been detained at
Padua by love.

"So you," he concluded, "as not without astonishment I have learnt,
are the very young man who a short time since detected the wickedness
of the abominable Apone in such a wonderful way, and who delivered the
shameless villain over to his punishment, although you yourself only
became still unhappier than before, from having to lose your beloved a
second time in so horrible a manner."

Antonio confirmed all that the friendly man said, and had gained such
confidence in him, that he felt just as if he was talking to himself.
He then went on to tell him about the adventures of that night, about
the second Crescentia, and the odious witch, who, he could not help
fancying, had appeared to him a second time on that day.

"Can you inform me now," he askt eagerly, "whether this is all true,
who that Crescentia is, and whether I shall ever see her again and
carry her back to her parents?"

Castalio became more thoughtful than before. "Unless that strange
creature Beresynth," he answered, "the imp that used to be at the
magician's side, has been disguising himself