"No, no; where is he to be found?"
"Monsieur le magicien holds a spiritual séance to-night," observed a French hussar, whose gorgeous dolman was almost sword-proof with silver lace.
"Très bon!" exclaimed another; "there are twenty girls in Paris I want to see."
"What is his time, Jules?"
"Eight o'clock."
"'Tis but twenty minutes from that now."
"We shall go too," said Studhome, "and have our fortunes told; it will be as good a lark, monsieur, as any other."
"Lark—aloutte—oh, yes, très bon!" replied Jolicoeur, with a good-natured smile, though quite at a loss to understand why the bird was referred to.
"My fortune has often been told me, Newton, by gipsies, at Maidstone and Canterbury. By no two alike; but it was magnificent, according to the fee I gave, and always droll. We shall see what this astrologer—a real magician—has to show us."
"If he shows us Louisa Loftus, Jack, I'll forfeit a year's pay!"