“Look, Milo, look!” exclaimed Sophia, excitedly. “The water is turning red, it seems to be turning into blood!”
Milona continued her chant—
“Blood is strength and life. The blood of the brain is victory. The blood of the heart is love. Turn, needle; redden, blood. Grant us victory and love!”
Sophia, on her knees by the side of the table, was anxiously watching with ardent eyes the crystal vase in which the water was whirling round under the impulse given to it by the gold needle.
“Look! Look again!” she exclaimed. “The water is turning green! It is shining like an emerald!”
“The emerald is the colour of hope, and hope is the joy of life. Turn, needle; water, become glaucous, like the eyes of the sirens, whom a man follows to his death!”
Milona withdrew the gold needle. The water, again restored to a state of calm, after having ceased turning around the sides of the crystal vase, first assumed a greyish tint, then turned to a dark colour.
“Milo,” exclaimed Sophia, in dismay, “the water is black! It is a sign of mourning! Who is to die?”
The servant, without replying, relit the candles, took the crystal vase and threw out of the window the water which had just been used for the experiment; then, in anger, she spat out into the night—
“May he die who opposes you!” she said fiercely. “Fate announces love, happiness, and death. You have the privilege of not continuing the enterprise you have begun. The spotted cards say you will not succeed. The water predicts death! For whom? That we cannot learn. Stop, there is still time.”