beholds will vanish. Come forward!"

Sir Norman compressed his lips as closely am if they were forever
hermetically sealed, and came forward accordingly. Leaning over
the edge of the ebony caldron, he found that it contained nothing
more dreadful than water, for he labored under a vague and
unpleasant idea that, like the witches' caldron in Macbeth, it
might be filled with serpents' blood and children's' brains. La
Masque opened her golden casket, and took from it a portion of
red powder, with which it was filled. Casting it into the
caldron, she murmured an invocation in Sanscrit, or Coptic, or
some other unknown tongue, and slowly there arose a dense cloud
of dark-red smoke, that nearly filled the room. Had Sir Norman
ever read the story of Aladdin, he would probably have thought of
it then; but the young courtier did not greatly affect literature
of any kind, and thought of nothing now but of seeing something
when the smoke cleared away. It was rather long in doing so, and
when it did, he saw nothing at first but his own handsome, half-
serious,
half-incredulous face; but gradually a picture, distinct and
clear, formed itself at the bottom, and Sir Norman gazed with
bewildered eyes. He saw a large room filled with a sparkling
crowd, many of them ladies, splendidly arrayed and flashing in
jewels, and foremost among them stood one whose beauty surpassed
anything he had ever before dreamed of. She wore the robes of a
queen, purple and ermine - diamonds blazed on the beautiful neck,
arms, and fingers, and a tiara of the same brilliants crowned her
regal head. In one hand she held a sceptre; what seemed to be a
throne was behind her, but something that surprised Sir Norton
most of all was, to find himself standing beside her, the