en had the faculty of knowing at any hour, and
in any place, what their husbands are about."

"Ah!" said the Prince, "I have a better opinion of my son than the
Vicomte has of his friend, and I hope the doctor will send my
daughter-in-law on a visit to Rome."

During the whole of this time Aminta continued asleep, but so soundly,
that her bosom scarcely heaved, and her breath escaped almost insensibly
from her lips.

"But," said the doctor, "it is, in the first place, necessary that I
should establish a communication between the _Marquise_ and myself. I
must be able to place in her hands, to enable her to touch, something
which belonged to the Marquis de Maulear. The best thing is a lock of
the Marquis's hair."

"Nothing in the world is easier; my daughter-in-law always wears a
bracelet of the Marquis's hair."

"On which arm?" asked the doctor.

"On the left," said M. de Maulear. "If Mademoiselle Marie be pleased to
take it off we will place it as the doctor wishes in the hands of the
somnambulist."

"But are you sure," said Marie to Von Apsberg, "are you sure she will
not suffer?"

"I am, Mademoiselle, I would not have her suffer either for your sake or
for her own."

Marie arose from her chair and walked painfully towards the Marquise,
who, having bared Aminta's arm a little above the wrist, found there a
bracelet of the Marquis's hair. When she was about to touch it she said
to the doctor, "I shall awake her."

"Do not be afraid of that, you will not."

Slight, however, as the motion was, to which the sleeper's arm had been
subjected, the _Marquise_ half arose from her chair and made an effort
to open her eyes. Von Apsberg extended his arm towards the Marquise's
brow, and she again sank into as deep a sleep as before. The bracelet
was given by Marie to the doctor, who placed it in Aminta's hand.

"Now," said he, "we will begin." Silence was at once established, and
all was solemn and almost terrible; for it seemed that something was in
preparation of the most terrible character, and that the room was
becoming filled with all those invisible phantoms we know as TERROR,
FATE, and MISFORTUNE, and which on their leaden wings seem to soar above
mortality. The strongest and best organized minds of our kind have, in
the silent places of their hearts, something of superstition, which
develop themselves in certain conditions of the corporeal and mental
organization. Without pretending to considerations of a ve