have happened to us were laid bare–things which no one present
but ourselves could have known about.”
“Why, it’s rank sorcery!” exclaimed Tom, who was now becoming very
much interested. “And how did they make out with what was going to
happen to you in the future?”
“On the whole, quite fairly,” said Luigi. “Two or three of the most
striking things foretold have happened since; much the most striking
one of all happened within that same year. Some of the minor prophesies
have come true; some of the minor and some of the major ones have not
been fulfilled yet, and of course may never be: still, I should be
more surprised if they failed to arrive than if they didn’t.”
Tom was entirely sobered, and profoundly impressed. He said, apologetically:
“Dave, I wasn’t meaning to belittle that science; I was only chaffing–
chattering, I reckon I’d better say. I wish you would look at their palms.
Come, won’t you?”
“Why certainly, if you want me to; but you know I’ve had no chance to
become an expert, and don’t claim to be one. When a past event is
somewhat prominently recorded in the palm, I can generally detect that,
but minor ones often escape me–not always, of course, but often–
but I haven’t much confidence in myself when it comes to
reading the future. I am talking as if palmistry was a daily
study with me, but that is not so. I haven’t examined half a
dozen hands in the last half dozen years; you see, the people got to
joking about it, and I stopped to let the talk die down. I’ll tell you
what we’ll do, Count Luigi: I’ll make a try at your past,
and if I have any success there–no, on the whole, I’ll let
the future alone; that’s really the affair of an expert.”
He took Luigi’s hand. Tom said:
“Wait–don’t look yet, Dave! Count Luigi, here’s paper and pencil.
Set down that thing that you said was the most striking one that was
foretold to you, and happened less than a year afterward, and give it
to me so I can see if Dave finds it in your hand.”
Luigi wrote a line privately, and folded up the piece of paper,
and handed it to Tom, saying:
“I’ll tell you when to look at it, if he finds it.”
Wilson began to study Luigi’s palm, tracing life lines, heart lines,
head lines, and so on, and noting carefully their relations with the
cobweb of finer and more delicate marks and lines that enmeshed them
on all sides; he felt of the fleshy cushion at the base of the thumb
and noted its shape; he felt of the fleshy side of the hand between
the wrist and the base of the little finger and noted its shape also;
he painstakingly examined the fingers, observing their form, proportions,
and natural manner of disposing themselves when in repose.
All this process was watched by the three spectators with
absorbing interest, their heads bent together over Luigi’s palm, and nobody
disturbing the stillness with a word. Wilson now entered upon a close
survey of the palm again, and his revelations began.
He mapped out Luigi’s character and disposition, his tastes, aversions,
proclivities, ambitions, and eccentricities in a way which sometimes
made Luigi wince and the others laugh, but both twins declared that
the chart was artistically drawn and was correct.
Next, Wilson took up Luigi’ history. He proceeded cautiously and
with hesitation now, moving his finger slowly along the great lines
of the palm, and now and then halting it at a “star” or some
such landmark, and examining that neighborhood minutely.
He proclaimed one or two past events, Luigi confirmed his correctness,
and the search went on. Presently Wilson glanced up suddenly with
a surprised expression.
“Here is a record of an incident which you would perhaps not wish me to–”
“Bring it out,” said Luigi, good-naturedly. “I promise you
sha’n’t embarrass me.”
But Wilson still hesitated, and did not seem quite to know what to do.
Then he said:
“I think it is too delicate a matter to–to–I believe I would rather
write it or whisper it to you, and let you decide for yourself whether