As he spoke, Mrs. Turner, who had left them, returned, bearing in her hand a small glass box filled with very fine sand, and a flat silver ruler, with a moveable limb at a right angle, which she delivered into the hands of her male companion.
"Bless my heart, doctor," she cried; "I hope there is going to be no magic. I cannot suffer magic in my house for any one."
"Nothing but natural magic, Mrs. Turner," replied the impostor, "which is quite lawful. Every part of nature has its secrets, which it is the province of science to discover, and also its sympathies with every other part, from which sympathies, when revealed in one instance, we gain a knowledge of all that affects other beings, sympathised with by the object under our hands. Thus this common sand, when brought under certain influences, displays its relationships to different parts of creation; and especially, as it is fluctuating and unsteady, light, and blown about by every gust of wind, exactly like the course of human life, so does it bear a near affinity to human beings, and discovers, when compelled, their fate and circumstances!"
The lady had listened with deep attention to every word of the rigmarole which the man uttered; and the reader must not be surprised at a wild, passionate, ill-educated, unprincipled girl of eighteen years of age being deceived by visionary nonsense, which has convinced the mind, ay, and disturbed the brain, of persons otherwise deserving the name of sages and philosophers. The charlatan next took the sand, smoothed it exactly in the glass box, seemed to look anxiously for every irregularity, ascertained that it was of an equal height on either side, and then drew, with the sharp end of a silver ruler, several signs and figures round the edges, leaving a space vacant in the middle.
"Now, madam," he said, "take this instrument, and write the first letter of the christian and surname of any person you think fit. It may be either your own, or that of some one else; but you must have a very deep interest in that person."
The lady considered for a moment, and then wrote lightly in the sand the letters R. C. Weston then took the glass box, and raised it gently from side to side, suffering a part of the sand to roll over the figures that had been drawn. He next gazed at the surface attentively; and, setting the instrument down with a look of surprise and respect, he took a step back and bowed low to the lady.
"Why, what is the matter now?" she exclaimed, emphatically.
"I did not know your Ladyship's high rank," he replied; "and I fear what I have to say may offend you."
"No, no; speak what you have to say," she answered. "If it be true, I shall find no offence."
"The geomantic science can never speak aught but truth," answered the charlatan; "and by its rules I tell you, that you love where you ought not, and love not where you ought."