Then after seven or eight
minutes, she turned her white eyes on the cards and expounded them.
"You will succeed, although nothing in the affair will fall out as you
expect. You will have many steps to take, but you will reap the fruits
of your labors. You will behave very badly; it will be with you as it
is with all those who sit by a sick-bed and covet part of the
inheritance. Great people will help you in this work of wrongdoing.
Afterwards in the death agony you will repent. Two escaped convicts, a
short man with red hair and an old man with a bald head, will murder
you for the sake of the money you will be supposed to have in the
village whither you will retire with your second husband. Now, my
daughter, it is still open to you to choose your course."
The excitement which seemed to glow within, lighting up the bony
hollows about the eyes, was suddenly extinguished. As soon as the
horoscope was pronounced, Mme. Fontaine's face wore a dazed
expression; she looked exactly like a sleep-walker aroused from sleep,
gazed about her with an astonished air, recognized Mme. Cibot, and
seemed surprised by her terrified face.
"Well, child," she said, in a totally different voice, "are you
satisfied?"
Mme. Cibot stared stupidly at the sorceress, and could not answer.
"Ah! you would have the _grand jeu_; I have treated you as an old
acquaintance. I only want a hundred francs--"
"Cibot,--going to die?" gasped the portress.
"So I have been telling you very dreadful things, have I?" asked Mme.
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