Softly stealing to the door, Moriarity applied his ear to the key-hole, and hearing no sounds within, gave a peculiar double rap on the panel.
Receiving no answer, he cautiously opened the door and disclosed a small, square room, having a low ceiling, and lighted by a single low-burning gas jet.
On the walls hung a large astronomical map, showing the solar system, and divided with the girdle of the zodiac into its various constellations.
A grinning skull, mounted on a black pedestal, stood on a small table in the center of the room, and on shelves against the wall were ranged a number of curiously-shaped bottles.
It was, in fact, the divining-room of a professional fortune-teller.
The room was vacant when Moriarity opened the door, but as he threw it back, a small bell was sounded.
Almost instantly heavy curtains which hung opposite the door were pushed aside, and the fortune-teller appeared.
Advancing with stately strides, her tall form erect and her hands clasped before her, she fastened a pair of cruel, glittering eyes on Moriarity and in a deep voice asked:
"Why this intrusion at this late hour?"
"Oh! drop that stuff, Nance; it won't go down with us; we're no gulls to have pretty things told us by giving you a dollar."