A Conjurers Confessions | Page 4

I should produce; still, having no reason to doubt its ultimate success, I was tempted to make a second trial, which turned out well.
The next evening I noticed in my room several persons who had been present on the previous night, and I felt they had come a second time to assure themselves of the reality of the experiment. It seems they were convinced, for my success was complete, and amply compensated for my former disappointment.
I especially remember a mark of singular approval with which one of my pit audience favored me. My son had named to him several objects he offered in succession; but not feeling satisfied, my incredulous friend, rising, as if to give more importance to the difficulty he was about to present, handed me an instrument peculiar to cloth merchants, and employed to count the number of threads. Acquiescing in his wish, I said to my boy, "What do I hold in my hand?"
"It is an instrument to judge the fineness of cloth, and called a thread counter."
"By Jove!" my spectator said, energetically, "it is marvelous. If I had paid ten francs to see it, I should not begrudge them."
From this moment my room was much too small, and was crowded every evening.
Still, success is not entirely rose-colored, and I could easily narrate many disagreeable scenes produced by the reputation I had of being a sorcerer; but I will only mention one, which forms a resume of all I pass over:
A young lady of elegant manners paid me a visit one day, and although her face was hidden by a thick veil, my practiced eyes perfectly distinguished her features. She was very pretty.
My incognita would not consent to sit down till she was assured we were alone, and that I was the real Robert-Houdin. I also seated myself, and assuming the attitude of a man prepared to listen, I bent slightly to my visitor, as if awaiting her pleasure to explain to me the object of her mysterious visit. To my great surprise, the young lady, whose manner betrayed extreme emotion, maintained the most profound silence, and I began to find the visit very strange, and was on the point of forcing an explanation, at any hazard, when the fair unknown timidly ventured these words:
"Good Heavens! sir, I know not how you will interpret my visit."
Here she stopped, and let her eyes sink with a very embarrassed air; then, making a violent effort, she continued:
"What I have to ask of you, sir, is very difficult to explain."
"Speak, madam, I beg," I said, politely, "and I will try to guess what you cannot explain to me."
And I began asking myself what this reserve meant.
"In the first place," the young lady said, in a low voice, and looking round her, "I must tell you confidentially that I loved, my love was returned, and I--I am betrayed."
At the last word the lady raised her head, overcame the timidity she felt, and said, in a firm and assured voice:
"Yes, sir--yes, I am betrayed, and for that reason I have come to you."
"Really, madam," I said, much surprised at this strange confession, "I do not see how I can help you in such a matter."
"Oh, sir, I entreat you," said my fair visitor, clasping her hands-- "I implore you not to abandon me!"
I had great difficulty in keeping my countenance, and yet I felt an extreme curiosity to know the history concealed behind this mystery.
"Calm yourself, madam," I remarked, in a tone of tender sympathy; "tell me what you would of me, and if it be in my power--"
"If it be in your power!" the young lady said, quickly; "why, nothing is more easy, sir."
"Explain yourself, madam."
"Well, sir, I wish to be avenged."
"In what way?"
"How, you know better than I, sir; must I teach you? You have in your power means to--"
"I, madam?"
"Yes, sir, you! for you are a sorcerer, and cannot deny it."
At this word sorcerer, I was much inclined to laugh; but I was restrained by the incognita's evident emotion. Still, wishing to put an end to a scene which was growing ridiculous, I said, in a politely ironical tone:
"Unfortunately, madam, you give me a title I never possessed."
"How, sir!" the young woman exclaimed, in a quick tone, "you will not allow you are--"
"A sorcerer, madam? Oh, no, I will not."
"You will not?"
"No, a thousand times no, madam."
At these words my visitor rose hastily, muttered a few incoherent words, appeared suffering from terrible emotion, and then drawing near me with flaming eyes and passionate gestures, repeated:
"Ah, you will not! Very good; I now know what I have to do."
Stupefied by such an outbreak, I looked at her fixedly, and began to suspect the cause of her extraordinary conduct.
"There are two modes of acting," she said, with terrible volubility, "toward