"I entreat you," said Max, laughing, though deeply interested. "I believe you can do what you say. I beg you to show me your skill in only one instance."
The girl gently refused, begging Max not to tempt her.
"No, no, I cannot," she said, "good Father Brantôme has told me it is sinful. I must not."
Half in jest but all in earnest, Max begged her to try; and, after a great deal of coaxing, she reluctantly consented to give a very small exhibition of her powers. Covering her face with her hands, she remained for the space of a minute as if in deep thought. Then, making a series of graceful and fantastic passes in the air with her hands, as if invoking a familiar spirit, she said in low, solemn tones:--
"You may now sit by me, Sir Max. My words must not be heard by any ears save yours."
Max seated himself beside the girl.
"Give me your word that you will tell no one what I am about to do and say," she said.
"I so promise," answered Max, beginning to feel that the situation was almost uncanny.
"Now, place in my hand some jewel or valued article of which I may speak," she said.
Excepting his sword and dagger, Max owned but one article of value--the ring Mary of Burgundy had given him. He hesitatingly drew it from his finger and placed it in the girl's hand. She examined it carefully, and said:--