"Why so?"
"Because it is so decreed."
"Klosso," said the baron, "I don't believe you. You know the future; but you lie about it when you speak."
"Will you, then," answered the demon, "look into the crystal: that can't lie. Come—it's only another year—give yourself a treat—come!"
"I have given you many years already," said the baron, musing; "look how grey my hair is!"
"Dye it," said the imp, who, if he was a Familiar, certainly behaved as such. But the baron took no notice of his impertinence. He was dreadfully smitten by Toinette, and said he'd have a twelvemonths' worth of knowledge of futurity for her sake. The thin dwarf grinned, and then made a motion of relief, as one who saw before him the speedy end of a long, long watch. So he took the crystal, uttered, as may be supposed, some magic words; and the baron looked upon the clear surface.
"Malediction!" he exclaimed, as he saw in the crystal a huge hearth, with pots on the fire, and poultry roasting before it, and Toinette tending the cookery, and a stalwart fellow helping her clumsily.
"That is Toinette!" cried the baron; "but who is the rascal with her?"
"Her husband, Jacques Fort."
"Curses on him!"