My motive¹ in following this young girl was not so much to restore her property, as to see where her engagement was taking her. I felt confident that none of the three persons who had shown interest in the box was the prime mover in an affair so important; and it was necessary above all things to find out who the prime mover was. So I followed the girl.  
She led me into a doubtful quarter of the town. As the crowd between us diminished and we reached a point where we were the only pedestrians² on the block we were then traversing, I grew anxious lest she should turn and see me before arriving at her destination. But she evidently was without suspicion, for she passed without any hesitation³ up a certain stoop in the middle of this long block and entered an open door on which a brass⁴ plate was to be seen, inscribed⁵ with this one word in large black letters:
 
“MADAME.”
 
This was odd; and as I had no inclination⁶ to encounter any “madame” without some hint as to her character and business, I looked about me for some one able and willing to give me the necessary information. An upholsterer’s shop in an opposite basement seemed to offer me the opportunity I wanted. Crossing the street, I saluted⁷ the honest-looking man I met in the doorway⁸, and pointing out madame’s house, asked what was done over there.
 
He answered with a smile.
 
“Go and see,” he said; “the door’s open. Oh, they don’t charge anything,” he made haste to protest, misunderstanding, no doubt, my air of hesitation. “I was in there once myself. They all sit round and she talks; that is, if she feels like it. It is all nonsense, you know, sir; no good in it.”
 
“But is there any harm?” I asked. “Is the place reputable and safe?”
 
“Oh, safe enough; I never heard of anything going wrong there. Why, ladies go there; real ladies; veiled, of course. I have seen two carriages at a time standing⁹ in front of that door. Fools, to be sure, sir; but honest enough, I suppose.”
 
I needed no further encouragement. Recrossing the street, I entered the house which stood so invitingly¹⁰ open, and found myself almost immediately in a large hall, from which I was ushered¹² by a silent negress into a long room with so dim and mysterious an interior that I felt like a man suddenly transported from the bustle¹³ of the out-door world into the mystic recesses¹⁴ of some Eastern temple.
 
The causes of this effect were simple, A dim light suggesting worship; the faint scent¹⁵ of slowly burning incense¹⁶; women and men sitting on low benches about the walls. In the center, on a kind of raised dais, backed by a drapery of black velvet¹⁷, a woman was seated, in the semblance¹⁸ of a Hindoo god, so nearly did her heavy, compactly crouched¹⁹ figure, wound about with Eastern stuffs and glistening²⁰ with gold, recall the images we are accustomed to associate with the worship of Vishnu. Her face, too, so far as it was visible in the subdued²¹ light, had the unresponsiveness of carven wood, and if not exactly hideous²² of feature, had in it a strange and haunting quality calculated to impress a sensitive mind with a sense of implacable fate. Cruel, hard, passionless, and yet threatening to a degree, must this countenance²³ have seemed to those who willingly subjected themselves to its baneful²⁴ influence.
 
I was determined²⁵ not to be one of these, and yet I had not regarded her for two minutes before I found myself forgetting the real purpose of my visit, and taking a seat with the rest, in anticipation²⁶ of something for which as yet I had no name, even in my own mind.
 
How long I sat there motionless I do not know. A spell was on me—a spell from which I suddenly roused with a start. Why or through what means I do not know. Nobody else had moved. Fearing a relapse into this trance-like state, I made a persistent²⁷ effort to be freed from its dangers. Happily the full signification of my errand there burst upon me. Finding myself really awake, I ventured to peer about, expecting to see the more willing devotees affected²⁸ as I had been. I encountered a flash from the eyes of the young lady whose bag I held in my hand. She was under no spell. She had not only seen but recognized me.
 
I held the bag towards her. She gave a furtive³⁰ glance in the direction of Madame—a glance not free from fear—then clutched the bag. Before releasing my hold upon it I ventured upon a word of explanation. I got no further, for at this moment a voice was heard.
 
By the effect it had upon the expectant ones, I knew it could have emanated³¹ only from the idol-like being who had filled the place with her awesome³³ personality.
 
At first the voice sounded like a distant call, musically sweet and low; the kind of note that we can imagine the Indian snake-charmers to use when the cobra raises its winged head in obedience³⁴ to the pipe’s resistless charm. Every ear was strained to hear; mine with the rest. So much preparation, so much faith must result in something. What was it to be? The incoherent sounds became more and more distinct, and, finally, took on the articulate form of words. The quiet was deathly. Every one was prepared to interpret her utterances³⁵ into personal significance. The dread³⁷ and trouble of the times filling all minds, men wished to be forehanded with the decrees of Providence³⁸. Into this brooding silence the low, vibrating tones of this mysterious voice entered, and this is what we heard:
 
“Doom³⁹! doom! For him—the one—the betrayer—the passing bell is tolling⁴⁰. Hear it, ye weak ones and grow strong. Hear it, ye mighty⁴¹ and tremble. Not alone for him will it ring. For ye! for ye! if the decree of the linked rings goes forth⁴²—-”
 
Here there was a perceptible quiver of the drapery back of the dais. Others may not have noted⁴³ it; I did. When, therefore, a very white hand came slowly from between its folds and placed its fingers upon the right temple of Madame, I was not much startled. What did startle me was the fact let out before that admonishing⁴⁴ hand touched her, that this being—I can hardly call her woman—seemingly so far removed from the political agitations⁴⁶ of the day, was, in very deed, either consciously or unconsciously—I could not decide which—intimately connected with the conspiracy⁴⁷ I was at that very moment striving to defeat. How intimately? Was she the prime mover I was seeking, or simply an instrument under the control of another, and yet stronger, personality imaged in the owner of that white hand?
 
There was no means of determining at that moment. Meanwhile, the fingers had left the temple of Madame. The hand was slowly withdrawn⁴⁸. Sleep apparently⁴⁹ fell again upon the dreamer, but only long enough for her to bring forth the words:
 
“I have said.”
 
The silence that followed, gave me time to think. It was necessary. She had bidden the mighty tremble and had pronounced death to one—the betrayer. Was this senseless drivel, prophetic sight, or threatened murder? I inclined to consider it the last, and this was why: For some weeks now, murder, or, at least, sudden death, had been rampant⁵⁰ in the country. My flesh crept as I remembered the many mysterious deaths reported within the month from St. Louis, Boston, New Orleans, New York and even here in Baltimore. Like a flash it came across me that every name was identified, more or less closely, with the political affairs of the time. Coupling my knowledge with what I conjectured⁵¹, was it strange I saw a confirmation⁵² of the worst fears expressed by Miss Calhoun in the half-completed sentences of this seeming clairvoyant⁵³?
 
So occupied had I been with my own thoughts that I feared I might have done something to call an undesirable⁵⁴ attention to myself. Glancing furtively⁵⁵ to one side, I heard, in the opposite direction, these words:
 
“She has never failed. What she has said will come to pass. Some one of note will die.”
 
These gloomy words were the first to break the ominous⁵⁶ silence. Turning to face the speaker, I encountered the cold eye of a man with a retreating chin, a receding⁵⁷ forehead, and a mouth large and cruel enough to stamp him as one of those perverted⁵⁸ natures who, to the unscrupulous, are usefully insane.
 
Here, then, was a being who not only knew the meaning of the fateful words we had heard, but, to my mind, could be relied upon to make them a verity⁵⁹.
 
It was a relief to me to turn my gaze from his repellant features to the fixed⁶⁰ countenance of Madame. She had not stirred; but either the room had grown lighter⁶¹ or my eyes had become more accustomed to the darkness, for I certainly saw a change in her look. Her eyelids⁶² were now raised, and her eyes were bent⁶³ directly upon me. This was uncomfortable, especially as there was malevolence⁶⁴ in her glance, or so I thought, and, far from being pleased with my position, I began to wish that I had never allowed myself to enter the place. Under the influence of this feeling I let my eyes drop from the woman’s countenance to her hands, which were folded, as I have said, in a fixed position across her breast. The result was an increase of my mental disturbance⁶⁵. They were brown, shining hands, laden⁶⁶ with rings, and, in the added ............