A forgotten night, or the sorceress Manouza.

In this current year of 1856, the experiments in Spiritist manifestations that were held at the house of Mr. B…, on the Rue Lamartine, drew a select and numerous audience. The Spirits who manifested in this circle were more or less serious; some said things of admirable wisdom and remarkable profundity, as one may judge from The Spirits' Book, which was begun there and in large part carried out. Others were less serious; their jovial humor lent itself readily to jests, but to those that never departed from propriety. Among this number was Frédéric Soulié, who came spontaneously, without having been invited, and whose unexpected visits were always an agreeable pastime for the members of that circle. His conversation was witty, refined, biting, coherent, and never belied the author of the Mémoires du diable [Les mémoires du diable — Google Books]; moreover, he never let himself be swayed by flattery; when he was addressed with somewhat more thorny questions of philosophy, he frankly confessed his inability to resolve them, saying that he was still quite attached to matter and that he preferred cheerful things to serious ones. The medium who served as his interpreter was Miss Caroline B…, one of the daughters of the master of the house, of the exclusively passive type, who had not the slightest awareness of what she wrote, being able to laugh and converse as it pleased her, which she did with pleasure, while her hand moved over the paper. For a long time the mechanical means employed was the basket with a beak. Later the medium made use of direct psychography.

It will doubtless be asked what proof we have that the communicating Spirit was that of Frédéric Soulié and not some other. It is not for us to deal here with the question of the identity of Spirits; we shall only say that Soulié's revealed itself through details so numerous that they cannot escape an attentive observation. Often a word, a gesture, a personal fact referred to came to confirm that it was indeed himself; on several occasions he left his signature, which was compared with the originals. One day he was asked to give his portrait, and the medium, who does not know how to draw, and who had never even seen him, made a sketch of extraordinary likeness. No one in the gathering had had relations with him while he was living; why, then, did he come without being called? It is that he had attached himself to one of those present, without ever having revealed the reason; he appeared only when this person was present; he came in with her and left with her, so that, when she was not present, he did not come either; and, strange thing! when Soulié was there it was difficult, or even impossible, for there to be communications from other Spirits; the familiar Spirit of the house itself yielded its place to him, saying, out of delicacy, that he ought to do the honors of the house. One day he announced that he would give us a novel after his own manner, and indeed, some time later he began a narrative whose beginning was very promising. The subject related to the druids, and the scene was set in Armorica, in the time of the Roman domination; unfortunately, it seems that he took fright before the task he had undertaken, since — it must be well said — assiduous work was never his strong point, confessing that he found more satisfaction in an idle life. After having dictated a few pages, he abandoned the novel, but said that he would write another, which would give him less trouble. It was then that he wrote the tale whose publication we are beginning. More than thirty persons witnessed this production and can attest to its origin. We by no means give it as a work of elevated philosophical scope, but as a curious specimen of a work of great breath obtained from the Spirits. It will be noted how everything in it has continuity, how everything is linked together with admirable art. What is most extraordinary is that this account was resumed on five or six different occasions and, often, after interruptions of two or three weeks. Now, each time he began again, the subject continued as if it had been written in one breath, without erasures, without additions, and without there being any need to recall what had previously been related. We give it just as it came from the medium's pencil, having changed nothing, neither in the style, nor in the ideas, nor in the linking of the facts. Some repetitions of words and small flaws of spelling were noticed, Soulié himself having charged us with correcting them, saying that he would assist us in this office. When everything was finished he wished to review the whole, to which he made only a few corrections of no importance, authorizing its publication as we should see fit and ceding, with satisfaction, the author's rights. Nevertheless, we judged it well not to insert it in the Review without the formal consent of his posthumous friend, to whom it belonged by right, because it is thanks to his presence and his solicitation that we became indebted for this production from beyond the grave. The title was given by the Spirit Frédéric Soulié himself. A. K.

A FORGOTTEN NIGHT.

I.

There was in Baghdad a woman from the time of Aladdin; it is her story that I am going to relate:

In one of the suburbs of Baghdad, not far from the palace of the sultana Sheherazade, there lived an old woman named Manouza. A sorceress of the most terrifying kind, this old woman was a cause of terror throughout the whole city. At night things so frightful took place in her house that, as soon as the sun set, no one ventured to pass by there, except some man in love, in search of a philter for his rebellious mistress, or some abandoned woman, in search of a balm to lay upon the wound that her lover, in forsaking her, had inflicted upon her.

One day when the sultan was sadder than usual and the city was in great desolation because he wished to have the favorite sultana put to death, and because, by his example, all men were unfaithful, a young man left his magnificent dwelling, situated beside the sultana's palace. This young man wore a tunic and a turban of somber colors; but beneath these simple garments there was a great air of distinction. He sought to conceal himself along the houses, as though he were a lover who feared being surprised. He was making his way toward the house of Manouza, the sorceress. A keen anxiety was stamped upon his face, betraying the preoccupation that agitated him. He crossed the streets and squares rapidly, yet using great precaution. Reaching the door, he hesitated for a few minutes, then decided to knock. For a quarter of an hour he suffered mortal anguish, because he heard noises that no human ear had ever heard until then; a pack of dogs howled ferociously, mournful cries echoed, and one perceived the groans of men and women, as is wont to happen at the end of an orgy; and, to illuminate all this tumult, lights ran from top to bottom of the house, will-o'-the-wisps of every color. Then, as if by enchantment, everything ceased: the lights went out and the door opened.

II.

The visitor remained confused for a few moments, not knowing whether he should enter the dark corridor that appeared before his sight. At last, arming himself with courage, he entered audaciously. After having walked blindly the space of thirty paces, he found himself before a door that opened into a hall, lit only by a copper lamp with three beaks, suspended from the center of the ceiling.

The house, which, according to the noise heard from the street, ought to have been very much inhabited, now had a deserted air; the hall, immense, and which by its construction must have been the base of the building, was empty, if we except the stuffed animals of every kind that furnished it.

In the middle of this hall there was a small table covered with books of magic, and before it, in a great armchair, was seated a little old woman of only two cubits, and so muffled up in shawls and turbans that it was impossible to make out her features. At the stranger's approach she raised her head and showed him the most terrible face one could imagine.

“So here you are, Mr. Noureddin,” she said, fixing her hyena's eyes on the young man who was entering; “draw near! For several days now my crocodile with the ruby eyes has announced your visit to me. Say whether it is a philter you need, or fortune. But what am I saying, fortune! Does not yours arouse the envy of the sultan himself? Are you not the richest, just as you are the handsomest? It is probably a philter you come to seek. Who, then, is the woman who has the boldness to be cruel to you? Indeed, I should say nothing; I know nothing; I am ready to hear your difficulties and to give you the necessary remedies, provided, naturally, that my science has the power to be useful to you. But why do you look at me thus and not come forward? Are you afraid? Such as you see me, do I frighten you, by chance? Once I was beautiful; more beautiful than all the women existing in Baghdad; it was sorrows that made me so ugly as this. But what do my sufferings matter to you? Draw near: I am listening to you; only I cannot grant you more than ten minutes; make haste, therefore.” Noureddin was not very much at ease; nevertheless, because he did not wish to show the old woman the disturbance that agitated him, he advanced and said to her: “Woman, I come here for a grave matter; on your answer depends the fate of my life; you are going to decide my happiness and my death. Here is what it is about:

“The sultan wishes to have Nazara put to death; I love her; I am going to tell you whence this love comes and to ask you to bring me a remedy, not to my grief, but to her unhappy situation, since I do not wish her to die. You know that my palace is neighbor to the sultan's; our gardens touch. About six weeks ago, walking at night in my gardens, I heard an enchanting music, accompanied by the most delicious woman's voice I had ever heard. Wishing to know whence it came, I drew near the neighboring gardens and perceived that it originated from a bower of greenery, inhabited by the favorite sultana. I remained several days absorbed by these melodious sounds; I dreamed night and day of the beautiful stranger, whose voice had seduced me, because, I must tell you, in my thought she could only be beautiful. Every night I walked in the same alleys where I had heard that marvelous harmony. For five days it was in vain; finally, on the sixth day the music made itself heard again; no longer able to contain myself, I drew near the wall and saw that it required little effort to scale it. “After a few moments of hesitation, I made a great decision: I passed from mine into the neighboring garden; there I perceived not a woman, but a houri, Mohammed's favorite houri, a marvel, in short! At the sight of me she was a little frightened, but, throwing myself at her feet, I begged her to have no fear and to hear me; I told her that her song had drawn me and assured her that in my attitudes she would find nothing but the most profound respect; she had the kindness to hear me.

“We spent the first night talking of music. I sang too and offered to accompany her; she consented, and we set a meeting for the next day, at the same hour. At that moment she was calmer; the sultan was in his council and the surveillance was less strict. The first two or three nights passed entirely in music; but music is the voice of lovers, and, from the fourth night, we were no longer strangers to one another: we loved each other. How beautiful she was! How beautiful her soul was too! We planned our flight several times. Ah! why did we not carry it out? I would be less unhappy and she would not be on the point of succumbing. That beautiful flower would not be about to be plucked by the scythe that is going to snatch it from the light. (To be continued in the next issue.)

[Review of January 1859.]

A forgotten night, or the sorceress Manouza The thousand and second night of the Arabian tales, DICTATED BY THE SPIRIT FRÉDÉRIC SOULIÉ.

(Second article.)

Observation. — The Roman numerals indicate the interruptions that occurred in the dictation. Frequently it was not resumed until after two or three weeks and, despite this, as we have already remarked previously, the account unfolds as if it had been written in one single breath; and this constitutes not the least curious of the characteristics of this production from beyond the grave. The style is correct and perfectly appropriate to the subject. We repeat, for those who might see in the dictation a futile thing, that we do not consider it as a philosophical work, but as a study. For the observer, nothing is useless: he knows how to take advantage of everything to deepen the Spiritist science that he is studying. [ALLAN KARDEC] III.

Nothing, however, seemed to disturb our happiness; everything was calm around us. We were living in perfect security when, one night, at the moment when we believed ourselves most secure, there suddenly appeared at our sides (I can say it thus because we were in a rotunda, into which several alleys converged) the sultan, accompanied by his grand vizier. Both presented a terrifying expression: anger had distorted their countenances; they were, principally the sultan, in an exasperation easily understood. The sultan's first thought was to have me put to death, but, knowing to what family I belong and the fate that awaited him should he dare to pluck a single hair from my head, he pretended (at his arrival I had thrown myself to the side) that he had not seen me and rushed like a madman upon Nazara, to whom he promised not to delay the punishment she deserved. He took her away with him, still accompanied by the vizier. As for me, the first moment of fright having passed, I hastened to return to my palace in order to seek a means of withdrawing the star of my life from the hands of that barbarian, who, probably, was going to destroy that precious existence. — And afterward, what did you do? asked Manouza; for, after all, I see in all this no reason to torment yourself so much to draw your mistress out of the danger into which you placed her by your own fault. To me you seem a poor man who has neither courage nor will when it is a matter of difficult things.

— Before condemning, Manouza, you must listen. I did not come to you without first having examined all the means within my reach. I made offers to the sultan: I promised him gold, jewels, camels, and even palaces, if he would give back my sweet gazelle. He scorned everything. Seeing my sacrifices rejected, I made threats, which were also not taken into consideration: he laughed at everything and mocked me. I also tried to introduce myself into the palace; I corrupted slaves and reached the chambers. Nevertheless, despite all my efforts, I did not manage to reach my well-beloved.

— You are frank, Noureddin; your sincerity deserves a reward, and you shall have that which you come to seek. I will make you see a terrible thing: if you have the strength to endure the trial through which I will make you pass, be assured that you will recover your happiness of former times. I give you five minutes to decide.

This time having elapsed, Noureddin told Manouza that he was ready to do everything she wished in order to save Nazara. Then the sorceress, rising, said to him: Very well! Follow me. Then, opening a door situated at the back of the hall, she had him pass before her. They crossed a somber courtyard, full of horrible things: serpents, toads that strolled gravely in the company of black cats, which affected an air of superiority amid these foul animals.

IV.

At the far end of this courtyard there was another door, which Manouza likewise opened; and, having made Noureddin pass through, they both entered a low hall, lit only from above: the light came from a very high cupola, garnished with colored panes, forming all sorts of arabesques. In the center of the hall there was a lighted chafing-dish and, upon it, on a tripod, a great vessel of bronze, within which boiled all kinds of aromatic herbs, whose odor was so strong that it could barely be endured. Beside this vessel there was a kind of great armchair, of black velvet, of surprising aspect. Whoever sat in it disappeared completely, since Manouza, having settled into it, Noureddin sought her for some moments without managing to perceive her. Suddenly she reappeared and said to him: Are you still disposed? — Yes, answered Noureddin. — Very well! Sit in this armchair and wait. As soon as Noureddin sat in the armchair everything changed aspect, the hall filling with a multitude of great white figures, at first barely visible and which afterward seemed of a bloody red or resembled men covered with bloody sores, dancing an infernal round; and, in the midst of them, Manouza, her hair disheveled, her eyes blazing, her garments tattered and a crown of serpents on her head. In her hand, by way of scepter, she brandished a lighted torch that cast flames, whose odor rose to the throat. After having danced a quarter of an hour, they stopped suddenly, at a signal from their queen who, for this, had cast her torch into the boiling chafing-dish. When all these figures had arranged themselves around the chafing-dish, Manouza had the eldest draw near, recognized by his long white beard, saying to him: — Come here, you who follow the devil; I have a very delicate mission to charge you with. Noureddin wants Nazara and I promised that I would deliver her to him; it is a difficult thing. I count, Tanaple, on your assistance. Noureddin shall have to endure all the necessary trials. Act, then! You know what I want; do what you will, but do it; you shall tremble if you fail. I reward whoever obeys me, but woe to him who does not do my bidding! — You shall be satisfied, said Tanaple, and you may count on me. — Very well! Go and act. V.

Hardly had she finished pronouncing these words when everything changed before Noureddin's eyes; the objects became what they had been before and Manouza found herself alone with him. — Now, she said to him, return home and wait; I will send you one of my gnomes to tell you what you must do; obey and all will go well.

Noureddin was happy with these words and happier still to leave the sorceress's den. He crossed once more the courtyard and the hall by which he had entered; then she accompanied him to the outer door. Noureddin having asked whether he should return, she answered: — No; for the moment it is useless. If it is necessary I will let you know.

Noureddin hastened to return to his palace. He was impatient to know whether any novelty had happened since his departure. He found everything in the same state; he only saw, in the marble hall — the summer hall of repose of the inhabitants of Baghdad — a kind of dwarf of repugnant ugliness, near the pool situated in the center of this hall. His garment was yellow, with red and blue embroidery; he had a monstrous hump, small legs, a coarse face, green and squinting eyes, a mouth slit up to the ears, and hair of a red that could rival the sun.

Noureddin asked him how he had come there and what he came to do. — I was sent by Manouza, he told him, to deliver your mistress to you. My name is Tanaple. — If you are truly Manouza's envoy, I am ready to obey your orders; but make haste, she whom I love is in chains and I am in a hurry to free her. — If you are ready, take me at once to your chamber and I will tell you what must be done. — Follow me, then, said Noureddin.

VI.

After having crossed several courtyards and gardens, Tanaple found himself in the young man's apartments; he closed all the doors and said to him: — You know that you must do everything I tell you, without objection. You will wear this merchant's costume. You will carry a bundle on your back, containing the objects that are necessary to us. As for me, I will dress as a slave and carry another bundle.

To his great stupefaction, Noureddin saw two enormous packages beside the dwarf, though he had neither seen nor heard anyone bring them. — Next, continued Tanaple, we will go to the Sultan's house. You will have it said to him that you have rare and curious objects; that if he should wish to offer them to the favorite sultana, no houri will ever have worn others like them. You know his curiosity; he will have a desire to see us. Once admitted into his presence, you will have no difficulty in presenting your merchandise and you will sell him everything we carry: they are marvelous garments, which transform the persons who wear them. As soon as the Sultan and the sultana put them on, the whole palace will take them for us and not for themselves: you for the Sultan and me for Ozara, the new sultana. This metamorphosis effected, we shall be free to act at will and you will free Nazara. Everything happened as Tanaple had announced: the sale to the sultan and the transformation. After a few minutes of horrible fury on the part of the sultan, who wished to expel the intruders and made a frightful noise, Noureddin, according to Tanaple's order, called several slaves and had the sultan and Ozara arrested as rebellious slaves, ordering that they be led at once into the presence of the prisoner Nazara. He wished to know, he said, whether she was disposed to confess her crime and whether she was prepared to die. He also wished the favorite Ozara to come with him, in order to witness the torment he was going to inflict upon unfaithful women. This said, he marched, preceded by the chief of the eunuchs, for a quarter of an hour, along a somber corridor, at the end of which there was a heavy door of massive iron. Taking a key, the slave opened three locks and they entered a great cabinet, long and of the height of three or four cubits. There, upon a straw mat, sat Nazara, with a pitcher of water and a few dates near her. She was no longer the brilliant Nazara of former times: she remained always beautiful, however, pale and emaciated. At the sight of the one she took for her lord, she shuddered with fear, thinking that her hour had come. (To be continued in the next issue.)

[Review of February 1859.]

A forgotten night, or the sorceress Manouza The thousand and second night of the Arabian tales, DICTATED BY THE SPIRIT FRÉDÉRIC SOULIÉ.

(Third and last article.)

VII.

— Rise, Noureddin said to her, and follow me. Nazara threw herself weeping at his feet, imploring mercy. — No pity for such a fault, said the supposed Sultan; prepare yourself to die. Noureddin suffered greatly in speaking to her in this way, but he did not judge that the moment had come to make himself known.

Seeing that it was impossible to bend him, Nazara followed him trembling. They returned to the apartments; there Noureddin told Nazara to dress suitably. Then, the toilette finished and without further explanation, he told her that they would, he and Ozana — the dwarf — lead her to a suburb of Baghdad, where she would find what she deserved. They covered themselves with great cloaks so as not to be recognized and left the palace. But, oh! terror! hardly had they passed the doors when they were transformed before Nazara's eyes. They were not the Sultan and Ozana, nor the sellers of clothes, but Noureddin himself and Tanaple. They were so astonished, principally Nazara, to find themselves so near the Sultan's house, that they hastened their step, for fear of being recognized. As soon as they entered Noureddin's house, it was surrounded by a multitude of men, of slaves, and of troops, sent by the Sultan to arrest them.

At the first noise, Noureddin, Nazara, and the dwarf took refuge in the most secluded apartments of the palace. There, the dwarf told them not to be frightened and that there was only one thing to do in order not to be arrested: to put into the mouth the little finger of the left hand and to whistle three times; that Nazara should do the same and instantly they would become invisible to all who might wish to seize them.

The noise continuing to increase in an alarming manner, Nazara and Noureddin followed Tanaple's advice; when the soldiers penetrated the apartment they found it empty, withdrawing after minute searches. Then the dwarf told Noureddin to do the contrary of what they had done, that is, to put into the mouth the little finger of the right hand and to whistle three times; they did so and soon became what they had been before.

Next the dwarf warned them that they were not safe in that house, and should leave it for some time until the Sultan's anger should be appeased. On account of this, he offered to take them to his subterranean palace, where they would be very much at their ease, while the means would be provided so that, without fear, they could return to Baghdad, and under the best possible conditions.

VIII.

Noureddin hesitated, but Nazara entreated so much that he ended by consenting. The dwarf told them to go to the garden and suck an orange, with their faces turned toward the rising sun; then, they would be transported without perceiving it. They made a show of doubt that Tanaple did not understand, after all that he had done for them.

Having gone down to the garden and sucked the orange as had been indicated to them, they found themselves suddenly raised to a prodigious height; then they experienced a strong jolt and a great cold, feeling that they were descending at great speed. They perceived nothing during the journey; but, when they took awareness of the situation, they found themselves in a subterranean place, within a magnificent palace lit by more than twenty thousand candles.

Let us leave our lovers in their subterranean palace and return to our little dwarf, whom we had left at Noureddin's house. You know that the Sultan had sent soldiers to seize the fugitives. After having explored the most remote recesses of the dwelling, as well as the gardens, and finding nothing, they found themselves forced to return and render an account to the Sultan of their fruitless searches.

Tanaple had accompanied them along the whole course of the way; he looked at them with malice and from time to time inquired how much the Sultan would pay whoever should bring him the two fugitives. — If the Sultan, he added, is disposed to grant me an hour's audience, I will tell him something that will reassure him and he will be glad to rid himself of a woman like Nazara, who has a bad temper and who would bring down upon him all possible misfortunes, should she remain there for a few more moons. The chief of the eunuchs promised to convey his message and to transmit to him the Sultan's answer. Hardly had they returned to the palace when the chief of the blacks came to tell him that his master awaited him, warning him, however, that he would be impaled, should he uphold impostures.

Our little monster hastened to make his way to the Sultan's house. Arriving before this hard and severe man, as was the custom he bowed three times before the princes of Baghdad.

— What have you to tell me? asked the Sultan. You know what awaits you if you do not tell the truth. Speak, I am listening to you.

“Great Spirit, celestial Moon, triad of Suns, I will tell nothing but the truth. Nazara is the daughter of the black fairy and of the Genie of the Great Serpent of the Infernal Regions. Her presence in your house would bring on all imaginable plagues: a rain of serpents, a solar eclipse, a blue moon preventing nocturnal loves. In short, all your desires would be thwarted and your women would grow old even before a moon had passed. I can give you a proof of what I say; I know where Nazara is to be found; if you wish, I will go fetch her and you will be able to convince yourself. There is only one means of avoiding these misfortunes: it is to give her to Noureddin. Noureddin is also not what you think; he is the son of the sorceress Manouza and of the genie of the Rock of Diamond. If you marry them, in token of gratitude Manouza will protect you; if you refuse… Poor prince! I pity you. Try; then you will decide.” The Sultan listened very calmly to Tanaple's discourse, but immediately afterward he summoned a troop of armed men, ordering that the little monster be imprisoned until some event should come to convince him of what he had just heard.

I thought — said Tanaple — that I was dealing with a great prince, but I see that I was mistaken. I leave to the genies the care of avenging their children. This said, he followed those who had come to arrest him.

IX.

Tanaple had been in prison only a few hours when the Sun covered itself with a somber cloud, as if a veil wished to steal it from the Earth; then a great noise was heard and, from a mountain situated at the entrance of the city, there came forth an armed giant, making his way toward the Sultan's palace.

I will not say that the Sultan remained very calm; far from it. He trembled like an orange-tree leaf lashed by Aeolus. At the approach of the giant he had all the doors closed, ordering the soldiers to stand ready and arms in hand to defend their prince. But, oh! astonishment! At the giant's arrival all the doors opened, as if an invisible hand pushed them; then, gravely, the giant advanced toward the Sultan, without making any sign or saying a single word. At the sight of him, the Sultan fell to his knees and begged the giant to spare him and to say what he demanded.

“Prince! — said the giant — I do not say much the first time; I merely warn you. Do what Tanaple counseled you and we assure you of our protection; otherwise, you will suffer the punishment of your obstinacy.” This said, he withdrew.

At first the Sultan was terrified; however, recovering from his fright a quarter of an hour later, and far from following Tanaple's counsels, he had an edict published in which he promised a magnificent reward to whoever should put him on the trail of the fugitives; then he had soldiers posted at the doors of the palace and of the city, waiting patiently. But his patience did not last long or, at least, did not leave him time to put it to the test. From the second day there appeared at the gates of the city an army that seemed to have come forth from the bowels of the Earth; the soldiers wore mole skins, had tortoise shells for shields, and used clubs made of splinters of rock. At their approach the guards wished to offer resistance, but the formidable aspect of the army soon made them lower their arms; they opened the gates without saying anything, without breaking their ranks, and the enemy troop marched solemnly toward the palace. The Sultan wished to resist the entry into his apartments, but, to his great surprise, the guards fell asleep and the doors opened of themselves. Then the chief of the army advanced with a grave step up to the Sultan's feet and said to him:

“I have come to tell you that Tanaple, perceiving your stubbornness, sent us to seek you; instead of being the Sultan of a people you do not know how to govern, we are going to lead you into the bosom of the moles; you yourself will become one of them and you will be a domesticated Sultan. See at once whether this suits you or whether you prefer to do what Tanaple ordered you; I grant you ten minutes to reflect.”

X.

The Sultan would have preferred to resist; but, to his good fortune, after a few moments of reflection he agreed to what was demanded of him; he wished to impose only one condition: that the fugitives leave his kingdom. They promised him what he asked and, at the same instant, without knowing from which side nor how, the army disappeared before his eyes.

Now that the fate of our lovers was completely assured, let us return to them. You know that we had left them in the subterranean palace.

After a few minutes, dazzled and enchanted by the aspect of the marvels that surrounded them, they wished to visit the palace and its surroundings. They saw enchanting gardens. And, strange thing! there they saw almost as clearly as in the open air. They drew near the palace: all the doors were open and there were preparations as for a great feast. At the door stood a lady in magnificent toilette. At first our fugitives did not recognize her; but, drawing nearer, they saw Manouza, the sorceress, completely transformed; she was no longer that old woman, dirty and decrepit, but a lady of a certain age, still beautiful and of elegant bearing. “Noureddin — she said — I promised you aid and assistance. Today I am going to fulfill my promise; your ills come to their end and you are going to receive the prize of your perseverance: Nazara will be your wife; moreover, I give you this palace and in it you will dwell. You will be the king of a brave and grateful people; they are worthy of you, as you are worthy of reigning over them.”

At these words a harmonious music was heard; from all sides there appeared an innumerable multitude of men and women in festive attire; at their head great lords and great ladies came to prostrate themselves at Noureddin's feet. They offered him a crown of gold studded with diamonds and said that they recognized him as their king; that the throne belonged to him as a paternal inheritance; and that they had been enchanted for four hundred years by the will of wicked magicians and this enchantment was only to end with the presence of Noureddin. Next they made a great discourse upon his virtues and those of Nazara. Then Manouza said to him: You are happy, I have nothing more to do here. If one day you should need me, strike the statue that is in the middle of your garden and I will come at the same instant. Then she disappeared.

Noureddin and Nazara wished to keep her longer, in order to thank her for all her kindness toward them. After a few moments of conversation they returned to their subjects. The feasts and the rejoicings lasted eight days. Their reign was long and happy; they lived thousands of years and I can even say that they live still. Only their country was never found or, rather, never became well known.

THE END.

Observation. — We call the attention of our readers to the observations that preceded this tale, in the issues of November 1858 and January 1859. [See the editor's Preface and the Observation by Allan Kardec at the beginning of the third chapter.]

[1] Translator's note: Reference to Mr. Baudin, whose adolescent daughters, Caroline and Julie Baudin, were the first mediums who contributed to the work of Allan Kardec. See Posthumous Works — Part 2 — My initiation into Spiritism.

[2] Translator's note: This rather primitive process is described in Part 2 — chapter XIII, item 154, of The Mediums' Book.