Her
thin, cruel lips were drawn to a rigid line, and her eyes were
filled with red fire as she drew the casket of ebony out of her
bosom and opened it with a reverential touch, as a devotee would
touch a shrine of relics. She took out a small, gilded vial of
antique shape, containing a clear, bright liquid, which, as she
shook it up, seemed filled with a million sparks of fire.
Before drawing the glass stopper of the vial, La Corriveau folded a
handkerchief carefully over her mouth and nostrils, to avoid
inhaling the volatile essence of its poisonous contents. Then,
holding the bouquet with one hand at arm's length, she sprinkled the
glowing roses with the transparent liquid from the vial which she
held in the other hand, repeating, in a low, harsh tone, the formula
of an ancient incantation, which was one of the secrets imparted to
Antonio Exili by the terrible Beatrice Spara.
La Corriveau repeated by rote, as she had learned from her mother,
the ill-omened words, hardly knowing their meaning, beyond that they
were something very potent, and very wicked, which had been handed
down through generations of poisoners and witches from the times of
heathen Rome:
"'Hecaten voco!
Voco Tisiphonem!
Spargens avernales aquas,
Te morti devoveo, te diris ago!"'
The terrible drops of the aqua tofana glittered like dew on the
glowing flowers, taking away in a moment all their fragrance, while
leaving all their beauty unimpaired.
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