house. It is little I can recall to memory now concerning her, but I
know that when she first set her eye upon me she said--

"Eh, Mrs. Blake, but yon bairn has the gift o' second sight."

My mother laughed at the idea, whereupon the old woman began to correct
herself.

"I'll no say he has the gift o' second sight properly," she said, "but
he'll _feel_ in a minute what it'll tak soom fowk years to fin' out. Eh,
lad"--turning to me--"if ye coom across some one as ye doesna like, hae
as leetle to do wi' 'em as ye can."

I am inclined to think there is truth in this judgment of the old Scotch
lady. I have found her words true in many cases, and I was sure in the
case of Voltaire my feelings told me what actually existed.

There was one thing in my favour. Evidently he did not think I guessed
his wishes; nevertheless I felt sure that if I was to obtain the mastery
over such a man, it would be little short of a miracle.

Dinner passed over without anything worthy of note, but as soon as it
was over we hurried to the drawing-room. Even those who loved their
after-dinner wine joined the ladies, as if in expectation of something
wonderful. The truth was, it had gone around that Mr. Voltaire was going
to tell us a story concerning the mystic rites that are practised in
Eastern lands, and the subject was an attractive one. The ladies
especially, evidently fascinated by the witchery of this man's presence,
anxiously waited for him to commence.