A young lady of elegant manners paid me a visit one day, and although her face was hidden by a thick veil, my practiced eyes perfectly distinguished her features.  She was very pretty.

My incognita would not consent to sit down till she was assured we were alone, and that I was the real Robert-Houdin.  I also seated myself, and assuming the attitude of a man prepared to listen, I bent slightly to my visitor, as if awaiting her pleasure to explain to me the object of her mysterious visit.  To my great surprise, the young lady, whose manner betrayed extreme emotion, maintained the most profound silence, and I began to find the visit very strange, and was on the point of forcing an explanation, at any hazard, when the fair unknown timidly ventured these words: 

“Good Heavens! sir, I know not how you will interpret my visit.”

Here she stopped, and let her eyes sink with a very embarrassed air; then, making a violent effort, she continued: 

“What I have to ask of you, sir, is very difficult to explain.”

“Speak, madam, I beg,” I said, politely, “and I will try to guess what you cannot explain to me.”

And I began asking myself what this reserve meant.

“In the first place,” the young lady said, in a low voice, and looking round her, “I must tell you confidentially that I loved, my love was returned, and I—­I am betrayed.”

At the last word the lady raised her head, overcame the timidity she felt, and said, in a firm and assured voice: 

“Yes, sir—­yes, I am betrayed, and for that reason I have come to you.”

“Really, madam,” I said, much surprised at this strange confession, “I do not see how I can help you in such a matter.”

“Oh, sir, I entreat you,” said my fair visitor, clasping her hands—­ “I implore you not to abandon me!”

I had great difficulty in keeping my countenance, and yet I felt an extreme curiosity to know the history concealed behind this mystery.

“Calm yourself, madam,” I remarked, in a tone of tender sympathy; “tell me what you would of me, and if it be in my power—­”

“If it be in your power!” the young lady said, quickly; “why, nothing is more easy, sir.”

“Explain yourself, madam.”

“Well, sir, I wish to be avenged.”

“In what way?”

“How, you know better than I, sir; must I teach you?  You have in your power means to—­”

“I, madam?”

“Yes, sir, you! for you are a sorcerer, and cannot deny it.”

At this word sorcerer, I was much inclined to laugh; but I was restrained by the incognita’s evident emotion.  Still, wishing to put an end to a scene which was growing ridiculous, I said, in a politely ironical tone: 

“Unfortunately, madam, you give me a title I never possessed.”

“How, sir!” the young woman exclaimed, in a quick tone, “you will not allow you are—­”

“A sorcerer, madam?  Oh, no, I will not.”