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 foot of the throne. This single blow was repeated by an echo, which they heard die away at a distance: at the twelfth sound the door opened, and the King of Navarre cntcred the temple.

The King of Navarre was unarmed—his head and breast bare. He was dressed in a long black satin uight-gown, and held in his left hand a branch of versain; a golden plate, covered with hieroglyphic characters, was placed upon his heart; and his right arm, bare to the shoulder, was bound with a bandage of the colour of fire.

"Charles D’Evreux," said the lady to him, "sit down on that sacred tripod." The tone of her voice, when shc pronounced these words, was very different from the charming one which had penetrated the heart of the Count de Nevers; it was like the voice of an imperious and rcvengeful deity, whom terror would make every one obey.

The King of Navarre made no resistance, but sat down as she had desired him. Scarcely was he seated upon the tripod, when bluish flames spread around him, and rose up to the dome above his head, about a foot from him, but without touching him.

The lady demanded, if he did not acknowledge her power over the element that surrounded him? He bowcd his head. She then directed the sacred fire upon the object she was striving to intimidate; then, with a word, she arrested its progress, and recalled it to the place where she would have it rest; then again, while she spoke, the flames insensibly divided, and suddenly extinguished, leaving no other vestige than a transparent cloud, which, without concealing the King of Navarre from any one, seemed to environ him in a magical atmosphcre, and diffused through the whole temple a delicious perfume.

The lady, in a tone of command, told him time