Most important of all was one card, the picture of a gentleman in evening coat and tall, starched collar. His number was 19. It was this card that, in the next moment or two, would stand for the young man, Danby Force. Would he be surrounded by cards telling of success, love and happiness, or by those telling of dire misfortune? She held her breath as Danby, his fingers trembling slightly, dealt the cards.
Did Jeanne believe in all this? Had you asked her, she would perhaps have found no reply. She had lived long with the gypsies, had Petite Jeanne. How could she escape believing? And, after all, who would wish to escape? Who is there in all the world that cares to say, “I know all about these things. There is no truth in them?”
Anyway, here was Madame Bihari, Danby Force, Petite Jeanne. Here were the dancing shadows. There were the cards. And there—Jeanne caught her breath. Yes, there was the man in evening dress. There was card number 19. Every card placed close to him must have a very special meaning. Leaning back into the shadows, she waited. When all the cards were down, Madame Bihari would study them. There would be a silence, three minutes, four, five minutes long, then Madame would speak.
In her eagerness to catch every word, Jeanne moved close up beside Danby Force.
Silence followed, such a silence as makes a roar of the wind singing down the chimney. From the mountainside there came the whisper of spruce trees. Torn, twisted, and tangled by storms, those trees stood there like horrible dwarfs whispering of love and life, of hatred and death. Once Jeanne, moved by who knows what impulse, went tip-toeing from her place to press her nose against the glass and peer into that darkness. Then, as if all the gnarled trees had been shaking fists at her, she sprang back to her place close to Danby Force.
When at last Madame Bihari broke the silence, she spoke in a deep melodious tone:
“Ah. The snake!”
“The snake!” Jeanne murmured low. She shuddered.
“But he is not too near.” There was a measure of relief in Madame’s tone. “And see! Between Monsieur and the snake is the Book. Ah! That is good! The Book stands for mystery that shall be solved. And the Eye!” Her tone became animated.
“Oh! The Eye!” Jeanne was smiling now, for well she knew that the Eye betokened great interest taken by friends.