ed long
enough to tell what they wished to know, after which they each received
appointments for the next day. When all were disposed of, Lucille came
into the back room to change her dress. I congratulated her upon her
success, and was about to withdraw with my stenographer, when the usher
came in and said that a gentleman desired an audience. From his
description, I felt confident that Captain Sumner was the person who had
arrived. I therefore begged Lucille to give him a full sitting, and to
read his past for him very thoroughly.

"By the way," I added, "you recollect that while he was away at sea, his
sweetheart, Miss Curtis, married a wealthy New York banker, named Agnew.
Well, I saw a notice the other day of the death of a banker of that name
in New York, and I feel sure that his old flame is now a widow. I want
you to refer to this fact in telling his future."

"Oh! well," said Lucille, with some vexation, "I'm rather tired of the
business already, and I don't care to spend the whole afternoon in that
hot room; so I shall get rid of him as soon as he is satisfied. If you
want to tell me anything, make a sound like the gnawing of a rat, and I
will come out."

Accordingly, I resumed my place at the door, with my stenographer close
beside me, and the Captain was ushered into Lucille's room. She motioned
to him to be seated, and then asked, in her most commanding tones:

"What can you learn from Lucille that you have not already learned from
the Hindoo or Calcutta?"

The Captain regarded her for an instant in reverent amazement; but,
finally, he said:

"I see that you know my past, and that you are truly one of those who
can read the fate of others. I am in trouble, and I wish to know when I
shall escape from it, if ever. The Hindoo told me much, but I would
know more."

Without further conversation, except to ask the day and hour of his
birth, Lucille proceeded to pore over a chart and to examine his hand.
Finally, she gazed at him steadily a few minutes, and said:

"What I have to say is the truth alone; if it be painful to you, it is
because the truth is not always pleasant. Listen calmly, therefore, to
the words which the stars declare to be true: Your parents are both
dead; your father was a sea-captain, and he brought you up in the same
profession. On one of his cruises, a Sepoy presented him with three
rings, one of which you now wear; its powers are very great, and it has
frequently rendered you imp