This cabinet was a small square room, which had besides the door leading into the salon, a second door, through which visitors could depart who did not care to face those who might be waiting in the other apartment. This cabinet had a dark carpet. The window looking towards the courtyard was concealed by ample thick green curtains. A tall old chest stood against the wall, near to the window was a somewhat small table covered with a green cloth, and before it a large chair in which the prophetess generally sat. Upon the table stood a lamp with a dark green shade, which lighted up the surface of the table, and left the rest of the room in deep shadow. Upon the other side of the table stood a few dark green chairs and a small divan of the same colour.
The emperor seated himself in an arm-chair in the shadow, and put his handkerchief to his face.
Madame Moreau took no notice. She was accustomed to guests who desired to preserve a strict incognito.
She took her place at the table and asked, "Do you wish the grand jeu?"
"Certainly," replied Piétri, who stood close to Napoleon's chair.
"Will monsieur then show me his hand? The left if he pleases."
Napoleon rose and walked to the table, so that the shadow of the dark lamp shade fell on his face, and he held out his hand to the soothsayer; long, slender, and soft it looked much younger than his face or figure.
Madame Moreau seized this hand, turned the palm upwards, and opened the line between the thumb and forefinger to its utmost extent.
"What a tenacious, enduring will," she said, without raising her eyes from the emperor's hand; "yet there is a weakness here, a hesitating delay; this hand is formed to draw the bow with care and skill, but it will hesitate before letting the arrow fly; it wishes to remain lord of the arrow in its flight, but the arrow then belongs to fate. This hand will not quickly loose the string even when the aim is taken, and the eye perceives that the right moment has come; it will launch the arrow from the concussion of a sudden doubt,--but the arrow obeys the eternal might of Providence," she added, in a low voice. She then continued her attentive examination of the palm. "Broken soon after its beginning, the line of life winds in entwining curves, often crossed and stopped by opposing lines, then it rises in a bold, broad arch, higher and higher, until--"
She gazed with a vacant, dreamy look upon the hand, and remained silent.