Amine had just returned from an afternoon's walk through the streets of
Goa: she had made some purchases at different shops in the bazaar, and
had brought them home under her mantilla. "Here, at last, thank Heaven,
I am alone and not watched," thought Amine, as she threw herself on the
couch. "Philip, Philip, where are you?" exclaimed she. "I have now the
means, and I soon will know." Little Pedro, the son of the widow,
entered the room, ran up to Amine and kissed her. "Tell me, Pedro,
where is your mother."
"She is gone out to see her friends this evening, and we are alone. I
will stay with you."
"Do so, dearest. Tell me, Pedro, can you keep a secret?"
"Yes, I will--tell it me."
"Nay, I have nothing to tell, but I wish to do something: I wish to make
a play, and you shall see things in your hand."
"Oh! yes, show me, do show me."
"If you promise not to tell."
"No, by the Holy Virgin, I will not."
"Then you shall see."
Amine lighted some charcoal in a chafing-dish, and put it at her feet;
she then took a reed pen, some ink from a small bottle, and a pair of
scissors, and wrote down several characters on a paper singing, or
rather chanting, words which were not intelligible to her young
companion. Amine then threw frankincense and coriander seed into the
chafing-dish, which threw out a strong aromatic smoke; and desiring
Pedro to sit down by her on a small stool, she took the boy's right hand
and held it in her own. She then drew upon the palm of his hand a
square figure with characters on each side of it, and in the centre
poured a small quantity of the ink, so as to form a black mirror of the
size of half a crown.
"Now all is ready," said Amine; "look, Pedro, what see you in the ink?"
"My own face," replied the boy.
She threw more frankincense upon the chafing-dish, until the room was
full of smoke, and then chaunted:--
"Turshoon, turyo-shoon--come down, come down.
"Be present, ye servants of these names.
"Remove the veil, and be correct."
The characters she had drawn upon the paper, she had divided with the
scissors, and now taking one of the pieces, she dropped it into the
chafing-dish still holding the boy's hand.
"Tell me now, Pedro, what do you see?"
"I see a man sweeping," replied Pedro, alarmed.
"Fear not, Pedro, you shall see more. Has he done sweeping?"
"Yes, he has."
And Amine muttered words, which were unintelligible, and threw into the
chafing-dish the other half of the paper with the characters she had
written down. "Say now, Pedro, `Philip Vanderdecken, appear.'"
"Philip Vanderdecken appear!" responded the boy, trembling.
"Tell me what thou seest, Pedro--tell me true?" said Amine anxiously.
"I see a man lying down on the white sand--(I don't like this play)."
"Be not alarmed, Pedro, you shall have sweetmeats directly. Tell me
what thou seest, how the man is dressed?"
"He has a short coat--he has white trowsers--he looks about him--he
takes something out of his breast and kisses it."
"'Tis he, 'tis he! and he lives! Heaven, I thank thee. Look again,
boy."
"He gets up--(I don't like this play; I am frightened; indeed I am)."
"Fear not."
"Oh, yes, I am--I cannot," replied Pedro, falling on his knees; "pray
let me go."
Pedro had turned his hand, and spilt the ink, the charm was broken, and
Amine could learn no more. She soothed the boy with presents, made him
repeat his promise that he would not tell, and postponed further search
into fate until the boy should appear to have recovered from his terror,
and be willing to resume the ceremonies.
"My Philip lives--mother, dear mother, I thank you."
Amine did not allow Pedro to leave the room until he appeared to have
quite recovered from his fright; for some days she did not say anything
to him, except to remind him of his promise not to tell his mother, or
any one else, and she loaded him with presents.
One afternoon when his mother was gone out Pedro came in and asked Amine
"whether they should not have the play ever again!"
Amine, who was anxious to know more, was glad of the boy's request, and
soon had everything prepared. Again was her chamber filled with the
smoke of the frankincense: again was she muttering her incantations: the
magic mirror was on the boy's hand, and once more had Pedro cried out,
"Philip Vanderdecken, appear!" when the door burst open, and Father
Mathias, the widow, and several other people made their appearance.
Amine started up--Pedro screamed and ran to his mother.
"Then I was not mistaken at what I saw in the cottage at Terneuse,"
cried Father Mathias, with his arms folded over his breast, and with
looks of indignation; "accursed sorceress! you are detected."
Amine returned his gaze with scorn, and coolly replied, "I am not of
your creed--you know it. Eaves-dropping appears to be a portion of your
religion. This is my chamber--it is not the first time I have had to
request you to leave it--I do so now--you--and those who have come in
with you."
"Take up all those implements of sorcery first," said Father Mathias to
his companions. The chafing-dish, and other articles used by Amine,
were taken away; and Father Mathias and the others quitting the room:
Amine was left alone.
Amine had a foreboding that she was lost; she knew that magic was a
crime of the highest degree in Catholic countries, and that she had been
detected in the very act. "Well, well," thought Amine: "it is my
destiny, and I can brave the worst."
To account for the appearance of Father Mathias and the witnesses, it
must be observed, that the little boy Pedro had, the day after Amine's
first attempt, forgotten his promise, and narrated to his mother all
that had passed. The widow, frightened at what the boy had told her,
thought it right to go to Father Mathias, and confide to him what her
son had told her, as it was, in her opinion, sorcery. Father Mathias
questioned Pedro closely, and, convinced that such was the case,
determined to have witnesses to confront Amine. He, therefore, proposed
that the boy should appear to be willing to try again, and had
instructed him for the purpose, having previously arranged that they
should break in upon Amine, as we have described.
About half an hour afterwards, two men dressed in black gowns came into
Amine's room, and requested that she would follow them, or that force
would be used. Amine made no resistance: they crossed the square: the
gate of a large building was opened, they desired her to walk in, and,
in a few seconds, Amine found herself in one of the dungeons of the
Inquisition.