AT THE BAR.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "A CRUISE UPON WHEELS," &C. &C.

CHAPTER XXIII. BALAAM AND BALAK.

THE vindictive spirit of Jane Cantanker was
quite insatiable in its desire for the consummation
of Gabrielle Penmore's ruin. One would have
said that already this poor lady was deeply enough
involved in toils, partly of her own weaving, and
partly of the Cantanker construction; but it
appears that she was not sufficiently compromised
yet to satisfy her deadly enemy.

Miss Cantanker was gifted, among other qualities,
with an amount of superstition, which she
took so much pains to conceal, that no one who
knew her would ever have thought of giving her
credit for its possession. Nothing would have
induced her to sit down, under any circumstances,
to any meal at which twelve other persons were
to assist. She would never begin any undertaking
of any sort soever on a Friday. If her nails had
suddenly grown an inch long in the course of
Thursday night, they would have had to remain
as they were, at whatever inconvenience, till
Saturday morning, as they must not, under any
circumstances, be cut on a Friday, and that must
have been, indeed, a desirable object of attainment
which she would have passed under a ladder
to reach. But strongest with her amongst all
these convictions, was a firm belief in the efficacy
of charms, and the power which certain
individuals possessed of bewitching others and
working them mischief by means of spells,
incantations, and other similar engines of destruction.
Such a creed as this tends very materially
to increase the difficulties of human life, it being
no use to attempt even to prosper if you feel
convinced that some invisible influence is at
work to frustrate all your best efforts, and render
them utterly unavailing. Leave undone what
you may, and you must still prosper, if favourable
influences hover over you. Work as you
like, take all the means of succeeding within
your reach, and make the most of them, and still
you may fail, if the evil charm is at work
against you.

Now, such being the creed of Miss Cantanker,
it is surely not to be wondered at that in a
concern to which she attached so much importance
as this of bringing poor Gabrielle Penmore to
destruction, she should desire to enlist upon her
side those terrible influences in which she held
such firm belief. She did desire to avail herself
of them, but there was a difficulty.

In a certain small court or alley which led out
of a by-street in the neighbourhood of the
Edgeware-road, there had lived formerly a certain
old woman with whom Cantanker had had
dealings, and who could, horrible to relate, charm
you or counter-charm you out of house and
home in no time. For the rest, she was a most
fascinating specimen of humanity, with a hoarse
voice, a brown wig, and fluffy grey hairs curling
beautifully about her mouth and chin. She was
the terror of all the neighbouring children, and
had such a reputation for supernatural gifts, that
when she died, at the ripe age of ninety-four,
it was looked upon as quite a piece of self-denial
on her part, as it was certain that, with her
capacity, she might have gone on for another
hundred years or so, at least if she had thought
proper.

Now, by the death of this good lady, it
happened that Jane Cantanker was cut off from all
the resources of a spiritual nature to which she
had been wont to have recourse, and on which
she had been accustomed to depend. She could
neither procure spells with which to confound
her enemies, nor could she shelter herself under
counter-charms from the devices which those
enemies might practise against herself. It was
terrible to be left thus unaided by supernatural
influences, and unprotected from them as well.
What was to be done?

Of course the natural way out of the difficulty,
and that which common sense, supposing it to
have anything to do with such an affair, would
suggest, was to find a successor to the wise
woman of the Edgeware-road, some one on whom
her mantle might be supposed to have fallen.
For such a person Miss Cantanker had long
been on the look-out, and it seemed at last
that the search was to be rewarded with success.

Miss Cantanker had a friend who kept a
"general shop" not far from Beaumont-street,
and with whom it was her habit to hold long
conversations over the counter whenever her
occasions took her into the street in which the
"general shop" was situated. This friend was
also a believer in necromancy, and attached as
much importance to the good or evil offices of
those who dealt in it, as Jane Cantanker herself.
There are more of these believers than people