“If you will sit down,” she said, “I will darken the room.”

Bosio seated himself, and in a moment the light was shut out as the heavy curtains ran together.  Then he heard the rustle of the woman’s silk dress as she sat down opposite to him in the dark.  He felt unaccountably nervous, and her china blue eyes had made a disagreeable impression upon him.  He expected something to happen.

“I see a name over your head,” said a clear, bell-like voice, certainly not Giuditta Astarita’s.  “It is Veronica.”

Bosio started uneasily, though like most Neapolitans, he had visited somnambulists more than once.

“Who is speaking?” he asked quickly.

“It is the spirit,” said the woman’s hoarse tones.  “That is his voice.  Is there such a person as Veronica in your life?  Is it about her that you wish to consult the spirits?”

“Yes,” said the spirit voice, before Bosio could answer.  “You are afraid that they will murder her, if you do not marry her—­or if she will not marry you.”

Bosio uttered a loud exclamation of alarm and astonishment, for this was altogether beyond anything in his experience.

“Is it so?” asked Giuditta Astarita.

“Yes.  It is true,” said Bosio, in uncertain tones.  “And I wish to know—­whether—­” he stopped.

“Whether the grey-faced man and the handsome woman whose eyes are near together will really kill her?” asked the spirit voice.

Bosio felt his soft hair rising on his head.  “Do you know who I am?” he asked nervously.

“No,” replied the voice of Giuditta.  “The spirits know everything, but I do not.  They only speak through me with another voice.  I do not know what they are going to say.  You need have no apprehension.  This is more sacred than the confessional, Signore, more secret than the tomb.”

The phrase sounded as though it had been carefully studied and often repeated, but the dramatic tone in which it was uttered produced a certain reassuring effect upon Bosio, in his half-frightened state.

“Do you wish to tell whether they will really kill Veronica?” inquired Giuditta.  “If you have any question to ask, you must put it quickly.  I cannot keep the spirits waiting.  They exhaust me when they are impatient.”

“What shall I do to avoid marrying her?” asked Bosio, suddenly springing to the main point of his doubts.

“The handsome woman whose eyes are near together will make you marry Veronica,” said the spirit voice.

“But if I refuse?  If I say that I will not?  What then?  Is her life really in danger?”

“Yes.  They wish to kill her to get her money.  The handsome woman has her will leaving her everything if she dies.”

“But will they really kill her?” insisted Bosio, half breathless in his fear and nervous excitement.

The spirit voice did not answer.  In the silence Bosio heard Giuditta Astarita’s breathing opposite to him.