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THE CLEVER NECROMANCER
"A prophet!" cried the countess, as a floating bit of the colored mist lighted on her lips.
"I never heard such truth," said the fair-haired maiden, with a bar of iridescent cloud across her eyes.
Watching and silent the Necromancer stood, the three-cornered smile upon his lips. They prayed him to do his trick again, but he shook his head and would not.
"To-morrow," he said, "at two p. m.;" and he smiled at the shower of golden coin that rained into his bell-crowned hat.
When they were sure that nothing more was forthcoming, they went marveling away; but all about the silvery fog that clung to the steeples, and the gray mists that lay along the streets, and the clouds
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