extraordinary look, exercises a real fascination over animals--which,
however, does not prevent the Prophet from also employing, to tame them,
the terrible arsenal around him.

Seated at a table, he has just opened the false bottom of a box, filled
with chaplets and other toys, for the use of the devout. Beneath this
false bottom, secured by a secret lock, are several sealed envelopes,
with no other address than a number, combined with a letter of the
alphabet. The Prophet takes one of these packets, conceals it in the
pocket of his pelisse, and, closing the secret fastening of the false
bottom, replaces the box upon a shelf.

This scene occurs about four o'clock in the afternoon, in the White
Falcon, the only hostelry in the little village of Mockern, situated near
Leipsic, as you come from the north towards France.

After a few moments, the loft is shaken by a hoarse roaring from below.

"Judas! be quiet!" exclaims the Prophet, in a menacing tone, as he turns
his head towards the trap door.

Another deep growl is heard, formidable as distant thunder.

"Lie down, Cain!" cries Morok, starting from his seat.

A third roar, of inexpressible ferocity, bursts suddenly on the ear.

"Death! Will you have done," cries the Prophet, rushing towards the trap
door, and addressing a third invisible animal, which bears this ghastly
name.