The Greatest Works of Allan Pinkerton. Allan Pinkerton
Thayer lifted her head to look at Lucille a few moments after the latter had spoken of her brother, and said:
"You are the strangest woman I have ever met. You have told me things which I believed were known only by myself. All that you have said is the truth; but you do not tell me enough. I wish to know what I must do to make amends for all the wrong I have done. I have been very wicked, I know."
"If you really wish to do right, there is still a prospect that you may be happy. My duty is to show you that you are doing wrong, and to help you to change your course of action."
"Will you not tell me about my—"
Mrs. Thayer could not complete the sentence, but she evidently meant Pattmore, so Lucille said:
"Yes, my child; I will tell you all to-morrow; but I think you are unable to bear more at present. I will point out two paths, and will show you where each one of them leads; then, if you wish, I will give you my advice; after that, all will depend upon yourself. You can be happy again, if you decide to follow my counsel."
"Indeed, I will try to do so," replied Mrs. Thayer. "I have suffered myself to be led astray; but, hereafter, I will be guided by you. I never before heard a fortune-teller who could talk as you do,—you give such good advice."
"I endeavor to use my powers for the good of mankind," said Lucille, solemnly. "I speak only what I know to be true. When I have told you all, you must decide upon your course; and, if you choose the right one, you will, doubtless, be very happy. Be careful that you do not reveal to any one the knowledge you have this day learned from me; when you have heard all, you can tell as much as you please. Farewell, my child; be here promptly at ten o'clock to-morrow, for my time is precious."
Mrs. Thayer withdrew, joined Miss Seaton in the reception room, and they returned home. Lucille then received in rapid succession the visitors who had made appointments the previous day. She had a note-book filled with information obtained by my detectives, and she was thus enabled to satisfy them all immediately; or else, to postpone telling their fortunes until the next day. Then the new arrivals were admitted long enough to tell what they wished to know, after which they each received appointments for the next day. When all were disposed of, Lucille came into the back room to change her dress. I congratulated her upon her success, and was about to withdraw with my stenographer, when the usher came in and said that a gentleman desired an audience. From his description, I felt confident that Captain Sumner was the person who had arrived. I therefore begged Lucille to give him a full sitting, and to read his past for him very thoroughly.
"By the way," I added, "you recollect that while he was away at sea, his sweetheart, Miss Curtis, married a wealthy New York banker, named Agnew. Well, I saw a notice the other day of the death of a banker of that name in New York, and I feel sure that his old flame is now a widow. I want you to refer to this fact in telling his future."
"Oh! well," said Lucille, with some vexation, "I'm rather tired of the business already, and I don't care to spend the whole afternoon in that hot room; so I shall get rid of him as soon as he is satisfied. If you want to tell me anything, make a sound like the gnawing of a rat, and I will come out."
Accordingly, I resumed my place at the door, with my stenographer close beside me, and the Captain was ushered into Lucille's room. She motioned to him to be seated, and then asked, in her most commanding tones:
"What can you learn from Lucille that you have not already learned from the Hindoo or Calcutta?"
The Captain regarded her for an instant in reverent amazement; but, finally, he said:
"I see that you know my past, and that you are truly one of those who can read the fate of others. I am in trouble, and I wish to know when I shall escape from it, if ever. The Hindoo told me much, but I would know more."
Without further conversation, except to ask the day and hour of his birth, Lucille proceeded to pore over a chart and to examine his hand. Finally, she gazed at him steadily a few minutes, and said:
"What I have to say is the truth alone; if it be painful to you, it is because the truth is not always pleasant. Listen calmly, therefore, to the words which the stars declare to be true: Your parents are both dead; your father was a sea-captain, and he brought you up in the same profession. On one of his cruises, a Sepoy presented him with three rings, one of which you now wear; its powers are very great, and it has frequently rendered you important services; take care that you lose it not. It has even saved your life. Yes," she continued, after closely examining the palm of his left hand; "your life has been attempted three separate times lately. You have two sisters living; one of them is happily married and lives in comfort in an eastern State; the other married a sea-captain, but she does not live with her husband. She is with you, and is in poor health. Why! is it possible!" she exclaimed, suddenly. "It was your sister who made the attempt on your life! You may not suspect that your young and charming sister, whom you so deeply love, could have been guilty of such an act; but, unless my powers have failed me so that I cannot read the stars aright, such is the fact. Wait; lest I should have made a mistake, I will try again. It seems too horrible to be believed."
The Captain had buried his face in his hands; but now he looked up and said:
"It is unnecessary to try again; you are right. I see that you are one of the gifted ones of this world, and I wish you to tell me all; I can bear it."
Lucille continued her examination of the Captain's hand as she went on speaking:
"Your sister still has the same kind of poison with her which she used before. She does not intend to use it herself—she has no motive for committing suicide; but she may intend to give it to you again. You must be careful, for that is your greatest danger. Your principal trouble for some time has been caused by that sister. She no longer loves her husband, who has wholly disappeared from your knowledge, and she professes to believe that he is dead. This is not the case, however: he is now in command of an English whaling ship in the South Sea, and he will soon return to England."
At this, the Captain sprang up in a whirl of excitement and joy. In relating the story to me the next day, he said that he felt like taking Lucille in his arms and giving her a genuine sailor hug; but she looked so fierce and wicked that he got the idea that she was a genuine witch; and he was afraid that her beautiful white hands would turn into claws, and that she would soon make a meal of him, if she felt so disposed.
When he sat down again, Lucille again scanned the chart and compared it with his hand. She seemed very much disturbed at the revelations, and, at length, she said:
"Your troubles are so closely interwoven with those of your sister that I cannot separate them; but I never saw a horoscope so full of frightful scenes—I do not wish to go on with it."
"Please do not stop," said the Captain; "I feel that you have the power to tell me all, and I must know it. I will pay you anything you ask," he added, taking out a roll of money.
"My fees are invariable," said Lucille, drawing herself up haughtily. "You insult me by suggesting that I need to be paid extra to tell the truth."
"I beg your pardon," replied the Captain excitedly; "but I hope you will not refuse to tell me all you know. I can bear it, I assure you."
"Know then that your sister is deeply in love with a very bad man, who lives two or three hundred miles from here. She became acquainted with him in the East and he seduced her, though he was a married man, living with his lawful wife. To quiet your sister's scruples, he had a marriage ceremony performed; but, of course, it had no legal value, since both of the parties were already married. She became enceinte by this man, and she caused the premature removal of the evidence of her shame by an abortion. This crime you connived at, though you did not advise it. But the worst is not yet told: this wicked man, finding that you were determined to prevent him from seeing your sister, resolved to murder his wife, and to marry your sister legally, supposing that her husband was dead. He accomplished part of his design by poisoning his wife; but he has not yet been able to carry out the whole of his plan. He is now in danger, but he knows it not. He will soon be arrested and tried for murder. If you can succeed in uniting your sister and her lawful husband, they may be able to forget the past and