“Years rolled away,” continued Beverly. “I had visited California; had there made friends, as I had reason to suppose, and knew that I had foresworn wealth and place in favor of usefulness, poverty and knowledge; and had there helped to found an institution which, while it was capable of diffusing infinite blessings to all around, languished for want of seven good men and true. Yet it, like all other blessings vouchsafed to man, may be so trodden down that it die; but nothing is more certain than that it will rise again to the life everlasting.

“Months passed, and a continent and an ocean lay between the Golden Gate and me. I was on my second journey toward the Orient, and had taken London and Paris on my way. My objects in the journey were triple: First, to visit the Supreme Grand Dome of the Rosicrucian Temple; to make my obeisance to its Grand Master; to study its higher doctrines, and visit the Brethren. Second, to obtain the materials, in Jerusalem, for the composition of the Elixir of Life; not that I intended to make it, but because I wanted to use them in my medical practice, which I purposed to resume on my return to America. And, third, I needed rest, relaxation, and change of scene; for I felt that if I did not go, what between the fraud I had suffered, the wretch’s scandal, the woman, the dead child in the cemetery, and a variety of other troubles, I should die; and if I died—what then?—And so I went.

“The scene I now present before you is Paris; the date, any day you choose to imagine between the 16th of August, 1863, and the 11th of June, 1854. I had just contracted for an anatomical Venus and cabinet, designed for one of the Rosicrucian Lodges in America, and had paid out some fourteen hundred dollars thereon, when, being weary, I strolled to the Batignolles, from there to La Plaissance and Luxembourg, when I met a person whom I had known in London, and he advised me by all means to again visit the Emperor, and also to go to certain localities named, before I left Paris. Promising that the advice should be followed, I accordingly one day found myself in the Palace of the Louvre, not for the first time, however, but for, perhaps, the tenth. On each of these occasions my time had been mainly spent in admiring and examining the contents of the Galleries Assyrienne and Egyptienne. The bas-reliefs, or coarse engravings rather, had commanded my attention on previous occasions, along with the sphinxes of Rhampses and Menepthah, as well as the curious statues of Amenophis, Sevekhatep, Osiris, and Seti, from all of which I had learned much of that strange civilization of the long-agone, usually assigned to the past four thousand five hundred years, but which had in reality utterly perished from off the earth at least ten thousand years earlier than the first year of that date! for, but a little while before I saw those statues Mariette had exhumed from the sands of Egypt, the celebrated sarcophagi and mummy, to which the best Egyptologers, including the Chevalier Bunsen, had, with one voice, assigned an age of not less than twelve thousand years.

“On this visit I stood rapt in wonder and conjecture before the cuneiform inscriptions upon a series of tablets, and which archÆology has never yet interpreted—Bunsen, Layard, Botta, and Champollion having all alike failed in the attempt.

“During the five or six last visits to the museum, I had observed near me, apparently engaged in the same work as myself—the attempt to cypher out the meaning of the inscriptions—an old gentleman, evidently French, and as evidently belonging to the small remnant of the old Noblesse yet surviving on the soil of le Grand Nation, judging from his carriage, air, and manner—refined, polished, yet simple in the extreme; and from the benignance that beamed from his countenance, it was clear that there was happiness and content in his breast, and that he was a benefactor to, as well as a devoted student of, all that was interesting concerning mankind.

“On previous occasions when we met there had passed between us merely the compliments of the day, and those general courtesies due between well-bred people. This time, however, as if by mutual concession and attraction, our greeting was much warmer and more prolonged; for, after saluting, we drew chairs before the tablets and began conversing about the arrow-headed characters; and the old gentleman, whose name was Ravalette, said: ‘Sir, how is it that I see you daily here, taking copies, and trying to decypher letters that the best scholars in Europe have abandoned in sheer and hopeless despair? Surely a youth like you cannot hope for success where they have failed?’

“‘True,’ was the reply, ‘they may despair, but is that a reason why others should? I believe I shall yet correctly read these enigmas of the ages.’

“The old man smiled at my antiquarian enthusiasm, and merely remarked, that Meses and the chronologists had better be looking out for their laurels, else the parvenus of the present day would not leave many to be gathered.

“‘It is my invincible conviction,’ said I, ‘that these sculptures were wrought many ages prior to the making of the pottery found beneath the valley of the Nile; and that the inscriptions on yonder porphyritic tablets were engraved there a hundred centuries before the date of Adam—an individual, by the way, whom I certainly regard as having had an origin and existence in the imaginations of ancient poets, a mere myth, handed down the night of Time as an heirloom to the ages—at least all such as had a taste for things they could not comprehend—and had an existence there only!’

“‘Then you do not entertain the belief that all men sprang from only one source?’

“‘Yes—no. Yes; because God created all. No; because there are at least ten separate and distinct families of human kind!’

“‘But may not all these differences spring from climate and the diverse localizations and circumstances attending upon a wide separation of the constituents of an original family?’

“‘No; because that will not account for different languages, physical differences, and anatomical diversities. It is utterly impossible for any sane man to believe that the Jaloff and other Negroes, the Maquaas and other Indians, the Mongols and other Tartars, the Kanakas and other Islanders, the European and other Caucasians, all sprang from one pair. Indeed the thing is so plain, from a merely physical point of view, without entering at all into the mental and psychical merits of the case, that he who runs may read. Observe, I have said nothing about superiority or inferiority, merely content to let Physiology speak for herself.’

“‘Well,’ said Ravalette, ‘you inform me that you desire to learn, being already learned to some extent. The views you entertain upon the Past are, in some sense, consonant with my own; and if you are willing to be taught, I am willing to instruct; and in any case, no harm can come of the abrasion of ideas, but perchance much of good.’

“I was delighted to hear Ravalette talk in this manner; for I felt that he was in some sort, notwithstanding our relative disparity of years, a congenial spirit, and I longed for him to unfold to me the rich fabric of his thought and experience. I had concluded, from a word dropped here and there, that he was at heart a believer in the Faith of Christendom, but in order to silence the lingering doubt I still entertained on that point, I put to him the following questions, and attentively noted the substance of his somewhat curious responses thereto.

“1st. Question. ‘You, Monsieur Ravalette, have doubtless travelled much, and seen a great deal of this world of ours?’

“Here he interrupted me by saying, ‘And several others beside!’ I asked for an explanation, but he merely waved his hand and motioned me to go on. I did so. ‘Let me ask you if the result of your observations abroad, amongst men of different nations and faith-complexions, has not been a strengthening of your belief in the Mosaic teachings, generally, and in what is popularly known as Christianity?’

“Answer. ‘No! In the many countries I have visited I found human nature essentially the same as we find it here in France. Men are ever the same at heart. Inwardly they are all alike, sincere, beautiful, good, and religious; outwardly, the same selfish, heedless, careless, and materialistic beings, as untamable, set, willful, and unreasonable as the heartiest cynic could wish.

“‘Wherever I went I found the True Religion theoretically believed, but practically ignored and set aside on the score of inexpediency.

“‘In all my travels I found but one religion, yet that religion passed current under a vast variety of names. All men alike believed in good and evil, a Heaven of some sort, and some sort of Hell likewise. I found that while at bottom Faith was everywhere the same, yet the names by which that faith was known, differed widely in different places and latitudes. For instance, I found that the Catholic or Papal, the Protestant or reformed, the Hindoo and Brahminical, the Boodhistic, Lamaic, Greek, Polytheistic, Atheistic, Deistic, Magian, Guebre, Islamic, Fetisch, and all other systems and modes of belief, were, instead of being antipodal, in fact the same at bottom. This may surprise you. Doubtless it would, were I to leave the subject just as it is. But I will explain. They are all one at bottom, inasmuch as that each and all of their respective and apparently dissimilar devotees do homage at the same shrine, of the same Great Mystery. The modes and names differ with latitude, but the meaning and the principle are everywhere the same.

“‘Popular estimate or opinion can never be a true criterion either of persons, thoughts, events, principles, or things. We grow daily beyond our yesterdays, and are ever reaching forth for the morrow. The world has had a long night, as it has had bright days; and now another morn is breaking, and we stand in the door of the dawn.

“‘I agree with you that could the dates on the tablets here before us, be revealed, they would prove that human history really extends much further back into the night of Time than the period assigned by Moses as its morning.

“‘Human monuments are in existence that indubitably prove not only that the world is much older than people give it credit for, but also that civilizations, arts, sciences, philosophy, and knowledge infinitely superior in some respects to what exists to-day, have blessed the earth in by-gone ages, and been swept away, leaving only scattered vestiges of the wreck behind to inform posterity that such things have been, but are not.

“‘But what is still stronger food for thought, is the fact that amidst these ruins of the dead Ages, we find others that are evidently relics of times and civilizations still more remote—the dÉbris of a world-wreck remembered only by the seraphim! A demonstration of this assertion is found in the pyramids, the date and purpose even of the building of which is wrapped in conjecture, and has been for ages past. The authentic history of Egypt can be traced for over 6,000 years, yet even in that remote past the pyramids were as much a mystery as they are to-day.

“‘This is not all: The catacombs of Eleuthas contain what in these days would be called “Astronomic diagrams,” showing occultations of certain stars by certain other stars. This is proved by one diagram showing the relative place in the still heaven of each star of the series; another displays an approach toward obscuration, and so on through thirteen separate stages, the last being a complete emergement of the occulted star on the opposite side.

“‘Now, it so happens that we have astronomers in our day who pique themselves on their mental power and mathematical correctness, and these inform us that a period of 57,879 years must elapse before the same phenomenon will occur again, and that not less than 19,638 years must have elapsed since it did occur! Now I foresee an objection in your mind. “How is it known that the ancient diagrams refer to any two particular stellar bodies?”

“‘The answer is: From the relative positions of known stars in the heavens whose places correspond to the positions of stars in the diagrams, for the mapping out is quite as perfect as it could be done to-day, even with all the nice appliances of micrometrical science now extant.[7]

“‘Who built Baal-bec? is a question that has been vainly asked for over 3,000 years, and then as now, men repeated “Who?” and echo said “Baal-bec!” and says “Baal-bec” still.

“‘In a barren, sterile, sandy plain, which the augurs of the artesian borers proved to have been once a rich and fertile bottom-land or prairie, a very short distance westward of the Theban ruins, there once existed a vast and magnificent city, so splendid that the modern capitals of Europe are mere hutted towns in comparison. This is proved by what has been exhumed from Earth’s bosom. In that city of palaces is the wreck of one, which, from its situation with respect to other ruins, must have been merely a third or fourth-rate edifice in the golden days when Aznak flourished; yet the portico of this fourth-rate structure, situated in a suburb of the city, the name of which suburb was Karnak, consisted of 144 Porphyritic columns, 26 feet 6 inches apart. Each one was 39 feet 5 inches in circumference, and not less than 52 feet high, and every one was hewn out of a single stone!

“‘Moreover, this fourth-rate palace was two miles, five furlongs, and eight feet long, by actual measurement of the ruins, and it required a journey of quite nine miles to go around it.

“‘This palace faced the Sacred River (Nile), from which led a broad avenue lined with colossal statues on each side, as close as they could stand, for a distance of over one English league, and every one of these statues commemorated either a king or a dynasty of that more than regal country.

“‘Now, mark what I say: Proof, positive proof exists that this palace, itself so imperial, so grand, so immeasurably superior to aught of the kind attempted by man in this “Progressive age (?)” was, after all, but a mere addition, an inconsiderable wing, a sort of appendage, a kind of out-house to one of the main edifices of that immortal city.

“‘No man knows, or for four thousand years has known, who built Aznak—who laid the stones of Karnak—who cut marble monsters weighing two hundred and thirteen tons out of a single block of stone, and that stone so hard that no modern steel will cut, or even scratch it!

“‘Railways! steam power! wheels! pulleys! screws! wedges! inclined planes! levers, did you say?

“‘Sir, all these things existed long ago, else how could solid obelisks of five hundred tons weight have been transported a distance exceeding one thousand one hundred miles, from the mountains where they were hewn, to the places where they were set up, and where we find them to-day?

“‘Without all the appliances enumerated, how could these monuments, some of which measure eighty-nine feet in length, have been erected after they were brought; and take notice, that some of these stone monsters were placed upon pedestals, themselves ten or twelve feet high?

“‘It would strain the treasury of a modern state to pay the expense attendant upon the erection of half-a-dozen such—as was proved here in Paris in the case of the Obelisk of Luxor, the smallest of two that stood before the Temple of Thebes, and which cost France over two million dollars to place where it now stands. Without steam power and railways, how could such immense masses of stone have been transported over and through vast plains of shifting, burning sands, especially for such immense distances as it is certain they were brought? A single further remark on chronology, and I have done. It has been established among the learned, that it takes not less than a period of ten thousand years for a language to be perfected, and then die out, to give place to an improved but entirely different one. Now, observe: Champollion declares that he, through the assistance of modern Egyptian, was able to master ancient Egyptian. This furnished a key to certain hieroglyphs; these latter proved instrumental toward simplifying a series of three more. He concludes that he has sufficient evidence to establish the fact, that several successive languages had been spoken in the two Egypts (Upper and Lower).

“‘But let us return to the original topic of conversation. How is it that you expect a mere dream will aid you in researches of a nature so profound as these? How do you suppose that a mere idle dream, even supposing you to have one on the subject, could furnish you with the key? There might be fifty persons, or fifty thousand, for that matter, each one of whom might feel an interest and have a dream about it, and, like yourself, discover a fancied key, and yet upon comparing notes no two dreams and no two keys would be found alike amongst the whole fifty or fifty thousand!’

“Vulgarly, this was a ‘poser;’ still, an answer was expected, and so I said: ‘Very true, there might; but the true key would be that which, whenever and wherever it was applied, would yield uniform and concordant results.’

“This reply appeared satisfactory to the old gentleman, who, after a little further conversation, invited me to attend him to his residence and partake of a dinner with him at his own table. ‘’Tis but a short and pleasant walk,’ said he; ‘my house is situated in the Rue Michel le Compte, close to the grand Rue du Temple, and we shall reach it in a very little time.’ Cheerfully accepting the invitation, I took the old gentleman’s arm, and together we proceeded to his residence—which I found to be one of those stately old mansions built by the nobless of the times of Louis le Grande. We entered, and in due time sat down to a repast at once rich, liberal and friendly, and which gave me a very high notion of the man who presided over it. Wine of the rarest graced his board; plate of the richest adorned it; servants most attentive served it; coffee of the best followed, and tobacco of the finest finished it; all of which strengthened Ravalette in my esteem. After partaking of his elegant hospitality, he proposed a walk, and accordingly we withdrew from the house together, and arm in arm strolled into the Rue du Temple, and kept that route until we reached the limit of Paris in that direction, and entered one of its suburbs known as Belleville.

“Before quitting the street where I dined, I had taken the precaution to mark well the locality of the house, and to note its number on my ivory tablets, which I invariably carried with me.

“And now we ascended the hills overlooking Paris; and then we descended to the plain, and gratified the eye in viewing the rich market gardens, and the conservatories of choice and rare flowers, cultured carefully for the tri-weekly markets on the esplanade de la Madeleine and the ChÂteau d’Eau. Again ascending the hill, we entered a cafÉ together, and together partook of some frozen coffee and other ices, after which he took me to see a guinguette—or tea garden—lately established for the common people, where the customer for ten sous might ape royalty, and sip his coffee from silver cups, and take his wine from SÈvres porcelain. Here we both talked to the proprietor concerning the novelty of his enterprise, and made inquiries as to whether his customers—who were all of the lower classes of society—did not bear a great deal of watching, and whether they did not now and then run off with a few silver spoons, a chased goblet, or a silver-gilt fruit dish?

“‘No,’ replied the man, ‘I have seen enough of life and mankind to warrant the step, apparently foolish, certainly quite novel, which I have taken; and I have found out that, treat a man as if you regarded him a thief, and you do much toward making him one. Watch a man closely, and you that instant suggest rascally thoughts to him, which may bear fruit, and that fruit be crime. But place full and free confidence in those you deal with, and let the fact be known, and your conduct sanction your words, and take my word for it, your confidence will very rarely be abused, if at all. My place is the resort of thousands; my invested capital is large, yet I have never lost ten francs from the costly experiment of making the poor man realize the comforts and habits of the rich at the expense of ten sous.’

“We could but admire the tact of Monsieur Popinarde, and frankly told him so as we left his place, for we felt that there was a rich vein of truth at the bottom of his philosophy of confidence, as he chose to call it. After leaving this place, Ravalette and myself, still arm in arm, pursued our walk in the environs of Belleville, and there, amidst the sweet music of nature, the melody of the sunshine, the warblings of birds, the quietude of the deep green canopy of leaves, the humming of distant sounds, and the serenity of unruffled spirits, we entered upon the discussion of a topic of singular interest. That topic was, ‘The human soul, and its resources.’ I shall only record the latter part of this conversation. Said the old gentleman—

“‘Then you really believe, as did a very ancient society of philosophers, known to some students of the past as the Sacred Twenty-four, that there is a kind of natural magic in existence, far more wonderful in its results than the lamp of Aladdin, or the ring of the Genii?’

“‘Most certainly I do.’

“‘How have you learned of its existence, and how do you propose to become a noviciate, and avail yourself thereof for certain contemplated translations? Perhaps you believe in Elfins, Fairies, Genii and Magicians?’ said he, half laughingly.

“‘I do not absolutely know,’ I replied, ‘that such a magic exists, yet firmly believe it does. The idea came to me I know not how. By striving, perhaps, it may be found. There are steps leading to it, doubtless, and, if we can discover the first (which I think we have already in Mesmerism), we can follow till we reach the great goal. I do not believe that Elfins, Fairies, Genii and Magicians are altogether mythical personages. There must, it seems to me, be a foundation of truth underlying the rich and varied accounts of such beings that have filled, and still do fill the reading world with wonder.’

“‘Very good. But, tell me, have you an idea that such things belong to this world or the world of spirits?’

“At that instant it seemed as if I lost my self-hood, and that a power foreign to my soul for a moment seized my organs and answered for me—

“‘They belong to neither, but to a different world!’

“Ravalette, at this answer, looked in astonishment; and, after gazing attentively at me for nearly a minute, muttered, in an almost indistinguishable tone, the words, ‘It shall be!’ You spoke of Mesmerism as the first step toward the true magic, which you believe, and I know exists; and you thought it might be made successful use of in the obtainment of knowledge not to be arrived at by or through ordinary means, methods or agencies. Tell me in what manner? Surely not through ordinary clairvoyance, which ever reveals foregone facts, and none other; and, therefore, can be of little use to the true student? You believe, as I do myself, that all ancient history, as it comes to us, is at best a mere fable, or bundle of myths generally, albeit, certain portions are composed of romance, that is to say, are tales of fiction founded on a basis of fact, the superstructure being ten thousand times larger than the foundations would justify, provided things went at their proper value and importance. How, then, through the mesmeric force, do you expect to dive beneath this superincumbent ocean of fancy, and fetch up what few grains of truth yet sparkle at the bottom? Can you answer me that?’

“Ravalette smiled, gazed sorrowfully at me, and then went on—

“‘Believe me, my excellent young friend, that Mesmerism is a fine thing for inducing a “superior condition,” enabling one to write books which send their readers to suicides’ graves; to discover the art of marrying other people’s spouses; for procuring “Air-line” dispatches, and filling lunatic asylums with poor reason-bereft creatures; for stultifying a man’s conscience, and for emboldening one to pass for a philosopher when one is but an ass!’ and Ravalette smiled gravely. ‘Distrust all mesmeric railways,’ said he, ‘for many of the passengers, like Andrew Jackson Davis, after riding on that train for many years, have landed either in the swamps and mires of fantasy, or on the sides of moonshine mountains, called “Mornia,” and “Hornia,” “Forlornia,” and “Starnos,” and “Sternas,” and “Cor,” and “Hor,” and “Bore,” “Gupturion,” and “Spewrion,” and forty thousand more!’

“I bit my lip with vexation; for I had devoutly believed in and loved the subject and its advocates. I had always loved Davis, and highly admired his philosophy and writings, especially since a great free convention he once held in Central New York. I was aware that he had foes—people who refused to believe that God had appointed him his mouthpiece; who pointed to the graveyard in Quincey, Massachusetts, where lie the bodies of John and Hannah Grieves, surmounted by a stone that tells that these poor suicides came there, lost, ruined, from reading his books. I was well aware that there were painful rumors concerning a couple of divorces, and that some friends of mine had cut their throats in order to all the quicker reach the ‘Summer-land’ which he so elegantly described; but still I loved—still love him dearly. But now, when Ravalette suggested that he was a humbug, it struck me that Ravalette was right; for I suddenly recollected that once the great clairvoyant lost a little dog named ‘Dick,’ which his seership could not trace. I remembered that nineteen-twentieths of his prophecies from the ‘superior condition’ never came to pass, while the twentieth any school-boy could guess at. I recalled the fact that his philosophy was most decidedly medical—highly emetic, and very cathartic—and that his followers soon lost what little common-sense they formerly had, else it were impossible for them to accept the teachings of one who constantly contradicted himself. Still, I respected and loved him dearly, albeit Ravalette had utterly demolished his pretensions; and I saw clearly that, in believing the stuff he wrote and talked, I was like one who reads ‘Jack the Giant-killer,’ or ‘Gulliver’s Travels,’ or ‘Baron Munchaussen,’ and believes the stories real and true.”

CHAPTER II.
SOMETHING CURIOUS.

“Ravalette continued: ‘Mesmerism’s day has gone by. Already it is found to be impossible to produce the same effects with it as were produced a few years ago, while the bastard thing that now goes by its name, is of such a nature and character that it speedily either disgusts all sensible people, or very soon lands its friends into a deep quagmire of such alkaline properties, that all the little common sense they had at starting gets thoroughly mixed therewith, and forms a compound which they carry back, instead of what they brought; and when they get home again, they peddle it out as “Divine Philosophy,” when in fact it is an excellent article of soap—regular savon extraordinaire, warranted to extract brains, decency, money, and everything else worth having, from all who meddle with it—it washes so very clean. If your railway does not accomplish this, yet in ninety-nine cases out of every hundred of journeys that terminate differently, it lands its passengers in the populous Town of Fantasy, in the which all things look real, but are as hollow and as substanceless as mere Forms can be, and that is next to nothing. In fact, most of the popular clairvoyance may be said to resemble an edifice having

There are, of course, a few, very few exceptions to the rule, but the rule obtains vastly.

“‘The sentimentalities of a puling, hysteric girl, half afflicted with catochus, and the other half love-sick—as most modern clairvoyants are—count small in the list of Fact-truths, and the mad ravings of crack-brained somnambules of the other gender go for hardly as much, for the first has at least a degree of poetry about her, but the latter none at all. No, no, friend, do not place too great reliance on the ability of Magnetism to aid your researches, for you will run a narrow chance of disappointment, and regret when too late that from Nature’s stable you selected the very worst animal of the lot; one that is ring-boned, lame, spavined, and very baulky withal. Take my advice, and choose a better.’

“As the old gentleman finished what I at first regarded as a diatribe against Animal Magnetism—a thing, by the way, that I always doted on—I felt silent, and was so for the space of a minute, during which time I rapidly reviewed my entire experience in, and knowledge of, Mesmerism, and the result of the inspection surprised me not a little, for on a calm, disinterested view of the whole subject, I found it utterly impossible to gainsay or invalidate his position and assertions. Yet it was equally impossible to help feeling chagrined, and in no small degree mortified to have my pet hobby thus mercilessly cut up and dissected, laughed at, and thrown out as dog-feed. ’Twas very hard fare, at least to me, and at first seemed unfair also. For a long time I had almost worshipped it as a divine science; holding it to be the true Spiritual Telegraph, by means of which we earthlings might flash thought, not only to the bounds of the globe and the Present, but also to the ends of Time and the Ages Past, or nerved by Hope and Curiosity, dispatch a message to the Great Future and drag back the answer. It was looked upon as the great Messenger of Light, through whom we might easily read the records of a Past so distant that the coal-beds are but yesterday’s creations in comparison. And here, at one fell stroke, Ravalette had toppled the castle remorselessly about my ears. I bit my lip with vexation, and for awhile was silent as, together, we walked up and down a sort of natural esplanade on the sides of the hill next Paris. Mechanically as we walked back and forth, I trod in the footprints made while going, on each return, and just as mechanically observed that Ravalette did the same. One thing struck me as curious, even while my mind was profoundly engaged in the search for arguments wherewith to confute and break down the old gentleman’s positions; and that fact was this: The shoes worn by Ravalette were of a very singular pattern, totally unlike any I had ever seen before. Upwardly, they were decidedly triangular—almost perfectly so. Previously this fact had escaped my notice; now, it struck me as being very singular. But what was equally surprising was, that instead of the ordinary heel and sole, his feet-gear had four circular rims of brass, covered with rubber, and the track he made on the yielding, but plastic ground was indeed remarkable. The track and the shoe almost upset my cogitations. I looked up and observed a smile on Ravalette’s face as he saw my surprise at beholding the novelty of one cross, two crescents and two triangles, and a solid bar (part of the cross), ornamenting the sole of a shoe, if shoe it could be called.

“‘That,’ said he, divining my thought, ‘is and yet is not a mere fancy of mine. I have a peculiar reverence for those figures, as you may plainly see.’ And with this he drew my attention to an exquisite brooch or pin in his bosom.

“This rare jewel, which I had previously seen but not noticed particularly, consisted of a triangle formed of a crescent or quarter circle and a compass, or, as the instrument is improperly called, a pair of compasses. In the centre of this was a tiny cross formed of minute stars, and just where the two bars met was a rose just blooming, and colored with enamel to the life. Gazing still closer at this novel breastpin, with the aid of a fine eye-glass, I discovered a legend engraved in minute and strange characters upon the rim of the crescent; upon the left quarter of this crescent was a pelican feeding her young with her heart’s blood; midway was a tiny black rose, and on the right corner was one of deep crimson.

“The workmanship was exquisite, indeed quite extraordinary, for the entire jewel was not larger than a golden dollar. He also showed me a large and massive seal, pendent from his watch, and on its face was engraved a ladder of twelve steps, the first and fifth of which were broken. The foot of this ladder rested upon a broken column, near which lay a mason’s trowel, and its top leaned against the beam and ring of an anchor, reversed, the lower part being lost in what represented a cloud. After I had sufficiently admired the seal, he semi-playfully drew forth his watch, to which it was attached by a fine gold ‘rope’-chain, and observed: ‘I have more of the same kind,’ at the same time placing it in my hand.

“The watch was an ordinary smooth-backed, hunting-cased gold chronometer, worth perhaps fifty or sixty pounds sterling, the extra value being acquired by an anchor fouled, done in diamond points upon the internal face. The opposite side presented some excellent enamel-work representing the cardinal points of the compass. Three stars gave light from the West; a tomb, with its door partly open, stood in the East; broken columns adorned the South; and a circle composed of small triangles was in the North; in the centre of this circle was a rose on the bars of a dotted cross; the whole executed in the same exquisite style as that marking the seal and pin.

“To a question as to what it all meant, an evasive answer was returned. Waiving all my solicitations to explain the emblematic devices, the old gentleman resumed his remarks, by observing: ‘Never mind now what these things mean; you will know one of these days. At present let us continue our talk on other matters. A little while ago you observed that Mesmerism was a force Spiritual; but I am not so sure that you are correct. In my view it is a power Physical—ultra physical or material it may be, but physical still.’

“‘What!’ said I, in amazement, ‘human magnetism, that mighty agent or power, which effects such grand effects, and works such wonderful effects, Physical? Impossible! The very idea, excuse me, is absurd; the assertion is simply ridiculous!’

“‘So I once thought,’ rejoined Ravalette, ‘but think so no longer; and, mark me, the time is not very distant when you will come to my side of the question. I will endeavor to illustrate the point, one point of many, that confirms my view. For instance, the serpent tribe. We know that those reptiles charm birds and other animals, and that they exert an influence upon their prey precisely like that exerted by the magnetizer upon his subject, with this difference, that the human subject exhibits none of that peculiar terror manifested by the lower orders of being when under the spell of fascination, and this difference arises from the fact that the animal has a clear instinct that the power is exercised for its destruction, which the human subject is, of course, entirely free from.

“‘We see the snake exert the same marvellous power that the human magnetizer does, and observe effects resulting therefrom no less remarkable, and yet no one for an instant supposes that serpents are spiritual beings.’

“‘Now you are completely at my mercy,’ thought I, as I responded: ‘Certainly the snake is a spiritual being so long as he is alive, and exerts volition. He is a spiritual thing just as much as you or I.’

“‘And dead?’ said Ravalette, inquiringly, ‘is a mere lump of clay—nothing more.

“‘Then, Monsieur Beverly, the argument is against you, and is mine par un coup majestique! for the snake charms just as powerfully when his skin is stuffed with straw and cotton, as when with his own proper flesh, blood, and bones. Innumerable experiments, instituted expressly to test this question, have been made, and it has been over and over again decided that the charming or fascinating power is just as strong after as previous to death. This has been settled by the actions of birds, who utter the same plaintive and pathetic cries, exhibit the same terror and other phenomena, in presence of a stuffed as in that of a living serpent. This is a strong point in my favor; but one that is still stronger, indeed quite irrefutable, shall now be adduced. Persons employed in the Jardin des Plants, and other zoological institutions, find it dangerous work to clean out the dens of certain serpents, even for weeks after the occupants have been removed, for the effluvium—which, I take it, you will not claim to be other than physical—which they have left behind, and which constantly exhales from the floor and sides of the den, is found to be identical with that aura or sphere which it is known they exhale when excited by the presence of prey; and the affects of this emanation from the den are precisely those that characterize the action of the living, present, excited snake. Now, these facts had long been noticed, and the results attributed to the fancy of the human subject, until, at length, an unusual circumstance led to the institution of a course of experiments to set the matter at rest forever.

“‘India is the paradise of charming snakes, and a commission was sent thither by the joint governments of England and France, to test this matter thoroughly. This commission settled upon Candeish, a province of the Decan, where serpents most abound, and the experiments were made simultaneously in the towns of Nunderbar, Sindwa, Dowlea, Chapra, Jamneer, Maligaum, Chundoor, Kurgoon, Chorwa, Bejagur, Hurdwa, Asseergurh, Hashungabad, and Boorhumpore; and they were made with thirty different species of serpents, on eleven hundred and fifty-three human subjects, of twenty-three different nations, and all sorts of temperaments. First, these persons were subjected—under proper precautions, of course—to the mesmeric glance of hungry, quiet, and enraged serpents. In all three cases the effects were bad, all the subjects alike complaining of constriction of the chest, loss of memory, and a very strange sort of vertigo. As soon as the last symptom manifested itself, the curtain that separated the serpents from the men was dropped, and proper baths and other restoratives resorted to. Secondly—these same persons were all invited subsequently to a feast, as a reward for their services. Serpents were securely fastened in wooden boxes beneath the seats of three hundred and sixteen of them, and of these two hundred and eighty-four manifested the same symptoms as when under the direct gaze of the serpents. Two months afterwards ninety-four of the same persons, unknown to themselves, were placed to work in an apartment built of the boards that had composed the serpent dens, and the effects, a third time, were absolutely identical! Now, in this light, what becomes of your spiritual hypothesis! It is gone to the four winds of earth. But to set the matter entirely at rest, and to give your spiritual notion respecting Mesmerism its eternal quietus, let me call your attention to the fact that if a man, any man, sits before a swinging disk of black glass, and fixes his eye upon it, he will eventually be as deeply magnetized and as lucidly clairvoyant, as he would under the operation of the most powerful magnetizer on the globe!’

“I felt that the tables were turned, and that the old gentleman held me at his mercy. However, he forbore to triumph, but went on, saying—

“‘I do not say that the soul of man is physical, but I know that his spirit is so; for I proved that over sixty years ago, to my complete and entire satisfaction. Do not, I beg you, consider me a Materialist, or that I dispute the existence of spirit. Far from that! Your humble servant is a firm believer, not only in spirit, but in a great Spiritual Kingdom, more vast, varied, and beautiful than this Material one; and believe me, mon ami, when I affirm that not more than one man in ten thousand has any adequate idea of what he means when pronouncing the word Spirit; not one man in thrice that number can properly define it.

“‘Furthermore, as a prelude to what may yet befall you, permit me to say that, in the face of modern philosophy, and in direct contrariety to popular belief, it is my opinion that spirit cannot produce on spirit the singular movements and effects witnessed in mesmeric and analogous phenomena; but I do not at all doubt the ability of matter to effect it all. Yes, my friend, I believe that matter alone, without extrinsic aid, is competent to the production of the magnetic wonders, and a hundred others still more marvellous. For instance, I do not believe that any merely mesmeric power whatever, much less the dream-force of ordinary sleep, can, or, under any conceivable circumstances, could enable you to correctly read the inscriptions on the tablets in the Louvre, or probe the secrets of Karnak, Baalbec, Nineveh, or Ampyloe; but I can name purely material agencies that are more than adequate to the accomplishment of these, and infinitely greater things. I know a material means that will enable the soul to lay bare before its gaze the deepest mysteries of the highest antiquity, strip the Past of its mouldy shroud, and triumphantly lift the veil that conceals the Future from our view—or rather, your view.’

“The strange old man ceased, and, for a little time, my mind lingered on his concluding words. It was plain and clear, so I thought, that he alluded to certain medicaments which have long been used for the production of a species of ecstatic dream, and so I replied—

“‘You are doubtless correct, and can, by physical agents, produce strange psychical phenomena, and curious exhibitions of mental activity and fantasy; but, beyond all question, you over-rate their importance and power, for not one of them is adequate to the office of enabling a clear, strong mind to move within the sphere of the Hidden, but the Real.’

“‘To what do you allude particularly, mon ami?’

“‘I allude to various chemical and botanical compounds; for instance, those plants which furnish a large per centage of the chemical principles Narcotine, Morphia, and others of the same general characteristics, as Opium, Beng, and Hemp, the preparations of the delightful but dangerous ——, the equally fascinating decoctions of ----, not forgetting Hasheesh, that accursed drug, beneath whose sway millions in the Orient have sunk into untimely but rainbow-tinted graves, and which, in western lands, has made hundreds of howling maniacs, and transformed scores of strong men into the most loathly, drivelling idiots.’

“We lapsed into silence, which at length was broken by Ravalette, who said, as he clasped my hand with fervor—

“‘My dear young friend, there is here, in Paris, a high and noble society, whose chief I am. This society has many Rosicrucians among its members. Like the society to which you belong, ours, also, has its head-quarters in the Orient. Ever since I have known you, I have been anxious to have you for a brother of our Order. Shall I direct your initiation? Once with us, there is no branch of knowledge, mystic or otherwise, that you will not be able to attain, and, compared to which, that of even the third temple of Rosicrucia is but as the alphabet to an encyclopÆdia.’

“Much more he said, but I had no desire to join his fraternity, and firmly but respectfully told him so; whereupon he cut short our conference by rising, as he did so, observing—

“‘You may regret it. I can tell you no more. The society exists; if you need it, find it—it may be discovered. But see! my groom and horse have arrived, and have long been waiting. I must, therefore, leave you. Take this paper; open it when you see proper to do so. You will quit Paris to-morrow, next day, or when you choose. You may turn your face southward, instead of to the north as you proposed. Seek me not till in your hour of greatest need. In the meantime, I counsel you to obey, to the letter, your highest intuitions. Adieu!’

“And so we parted. I loved Ravalette, but not his fraternity. This conversation with Ravalette, and, indeed, my entire intercourse with him, was invested with a peculiar halo of what I may justly call the weird. It was evident that all his words and allusions contained a deeper meaning than appeared upon the surface. His conversation had filled my soul with new and strange ideas and emotions; and I felt that he had left me at the inner door of a vast edifice, after skillfully conducting me through the vestibule. What worlds of mystery and meaning lay just beyond, was a theme of profound and uneasy conjecture. I felt and knew that he was no common or ordinary man; and well and strangely was this proved afterwards.

“I had solaced myself with the hope that, by deferring my contemplated tour through Picardy and La Normandy, I should draw closer the bonds of common sympathy between us, and be made wiser through the abrasion of such an intellect as his. How suddenly and how rudely was this hope shattered!

“When he dismissed me so abruptly, after baiting my soul with such a splendid lure, I could but feel both astonished and aggrieved. Thousands would have been too small a price to pay for even one day more of his society; but, alas! thousands could not purchase it. Still, I learned a lesson. There are things in this world more valuable than even boundless material wealth—knowledges, that neither Peru’s treasures nor the mines of Ind can buy; and that Ravalette possessed an abundant store of these priceless riches, there was not a single lingering doubt.

“As his last words sounded the death-knell of all my fondly air-built castles, I became apprised of a fact that had heretofore escaped my notice; and this was, that, for the last ten minutes, a mounted groom, having a led horse in hand, had stood patiently waiting under a large tree at the south-eastern terminus of our promenade. As the old man placed the sealed paper in my hand, this groom advanced and assisted his master to mount, and, as soon as he was firmly seated in the saddle, they both gave rein and spur, and, urging the steeds into a round gallop, both horsemen were out of sight before I could recover from the stupor of surprise into which the proceeding had thrown me.”

CHAPTER III.
NOW COMES THE MYSTERY—A MAN GOES IN A CAB IN SEARCH OF HIS OWN GHOST.

“Perhaps three minutes elapsed before a full recovery took place, and, at the end of that period, I had come to the conclusion not to be baulked in quite such a cavalier style, but to seek and obtain one more interview, come what might therefrom. With this intention, I dashed along the hill-side, and at full speed through the principal thoroughfare of Belleville, till I reached the barriÈre leading into the Rue Faubourg du Temple, where, calling a cabriolet, I ordered the driver to land me in the Rue Michel le Compte—where, a few hours previously, I had dined with Ravalette—in the shortest possible space of time.

“A curious thing took place while giving my orders to the driver. It was this: Everybody knows that, at any of the barriÈres leading from Paris, a large crowd of blouses, men and of office, women and children of the lower orders, may, in fair or foul weather, always be found—loiterers, having nothing to do, apparently, except to lounge about, to see and be seen. Such a crowd I found at the barriÈre, and amidst it I noticed a bonnÉ, or nurse, having in charge three beautiful children, one of whom, a lad of seven years, appeared to take an unusual interest in myself, doubtless observing that I was in a great hurry to accomplish something. This child, as it saw me, ran to the nurse, and said, ‘Ma bonnÉ, Franchette, what’s the matter with the gentleman? Is he sick? What makes him look so queer?’

“‘Hush, child,’ said the woman in reply; ‘that gentleman is in search of what he won’t find this long time!’

“‘What is that, Franchette?’

“‘That gentleman is in search of his own ghost, mes enfants!’ replied the nurse, as the children clustered around her to hear the answer.

“‘Ma foi!’ echoed the crowd of idlers, as they caught the woman’s words—whether spoken in jest or seriously I cannot say—‘Ma foi! the gentleman takes a cab to go in search of his own ghost!’ And the cab drove off as these words were echoed by a hundred tongues.

“‘What the devil does it mean?’ asked I of myself, rather irreverently, as a Guebre would say, had one heard me. ‘What does it mean?’ What put such a queer notion as that in the woman’s head?’ And, while cogitating for an answer, the cab stopped before the required gateway. Hastily dismounting, I paid the man half a gold louis, refused the offered change, but, dismissing him with a word of praise at his alacrity, I hastily rang the bell to summon the concierge or porter. That personage speedily made his appearance, all the quicker from the unwonted vigor applied to the bell-rope.

“‘Is your master in the house, mon ami?’

“‘Oui, monsieur: he has not been absent to-day.’

“‘What! Not been absent, when he left me not thirty minutes ago? Impossible! Monsieur Ravalette must have been absent.’

“‘But who is Monsieur Ravalette? I know of no such person. Monsieur Jacques d’Emprat is my master, and not the person you have mentioned!’

“Here was a fresh mystery. ‘Call Monsieur Jacques d’Emprat, if you please.’

“‘Certainement, monsieur. Jeanette, my dear, go upstairs and tell the patron here’s a gentleman wants to see him.’

“Jeanette, a little girl of twelve years, flew to execute the errand, and in a few moments the landlord himself appeared; and I was surprised to find that the well-aproned butler who had attended upon us at dinner and the proprietor of the house were one and the same person. An explanation soon followed, and I learned that Ravalette, who was an entire stranger to the landlord, had come there two days previously for the purpose of engaging a sumptuous dinner for two persons, that being the landlord’s business—a caterer. For the dinner he had paid a round price in advance, and had given the proprietor a small silver coin of peculiar workmanship as a memorial of his visit. This coin or medal the man produced, and, lo! it was a perfect fac-simile, on a larger scale, of the jewel I had that very day examined in the scarf of Ravalette at Belleville. To my question as to when he last saw my mysterious friend, the patron answered: ‘I do not know him, where he is, when I next shall see him—nothing whatever. He left with you, and has not since returned. He is evidently a mysterious man; and were it not that I have this little medal to commemorate his visit, together with three hundred and ten francs in gold in my pocket, which he paid me for the wines and dinner, I should more than half believe that he was the Devil himself out for a lark in Paris. But the Devil never pays in gold, so those say who ought to know, and I am sure Ravalette paid me in bran new coin, which, on account of its beauty and full weight, I just tied up in one end of my long leather purse, meaning to give it to my daughter, at school in Dijon, for a birth-day gift. Here’s the money, as you perceive, nicely tied up, and sealed with wax, just as I fixed it an hour or two after Ravalette paid me.’

“With these words the honest landlord drew forth a most formidable-looking bourse, one end of which was, as he said, securely tied with twine, and sealed with a great blotch of red wax.

“‘Yes, monsieur, here’s the cash; I cannot show it to you, because I don’t like to break the string or wax; but as a sound is worth as much as a sight, you shall hear it jingle to your heart’s content.’

“And so saying, he struck the purse against the side of the gateway; but, instead of the merry clink of gold coin, we heard only the dull sound of a far less valuable metal. This startled him not a little. He changed color, then drew his knife, and in an instant cut the string, and emptied the contents of the purse upon his open palm.

“Horrible! Instead of bright golden Louis, he held in his hand a small pile of leaden disks? Each one of these disks had a number and a letter on it, and one of them was engraved, on the obverse side, with the simple words—‘Place the coins in order.’ We did so, and found that each letter formed part of a word. When they were all placed, the inscription read, ‘All is not gold that glitters!’

“My soul quailed before the mystery. I could scarcely move or speak, so great was my bewilderment; and as for the patron, it is impossible to describe his terror and consternation, as he stood there, with open mouth and protruding eyeballs, gazing on the coins upon the board where he had laid them. I too looked upon them; and even while we did so, a terrible thing took place; for the letters upon the disks changed color before our very eyes, first to a light blue, changing to deep crimson, and finally assuming a blood-red color. When, at the end of thirty seconds, this color did not change, we looked closer at them, and, to our absolute amazement, found that the characters themselves had altered, and instead of the sentence above quoted, we read the following:

“‘Remember Ravalette! Fear not!’

“With a cry of agony the man dashed the accursed coins to the ground, and instantly fell himself in a deathly swoon. A great excitement now ensued. The porter, Jeanette, and half a dozen other inmates, rushed to the assistance of their fallen master.

“Tenderly and carefully we bore him into the house, and speedily resorted to those well-known means of restoration used in such cases, which it were superfluous to mention; suffice it that, at the expiration of half an hour, the man revived, and bidding him and the rest a short good-bye, and promising to return on the morrow if I did not quit Paris, I took my departure.

“Before I left, however, it occurred to me that I would secure the marvellous coins, or, at least, a few of them; and for this purpose I, accompanied by the concierge, who had seen his master dash them away, went into the court-yard where he had thrown them. Carefully and long we searched over the smooth stone pavements. The marks where they had struck were there, but not a single coin could be found. It was absolutely certain that no person in the house had picked them up, for all these were in attendance on the patron. It was equally certain that no one from the street had done so; for the gate was fast bolted and shut, and had been ever since I had entered the premises to inquire of the porter.

“At length we gave up the task of finding them as utterly hopeless. I looked at the porter and shook my head; the porter looked at me and shook his head in return, as much as to say, ‘It is a very strange affair!’ At that moment a voice, coming from God knows where, for it seemed to issue neither from above nor below, in the house or out of it—a hollow, half-pathetic, half-cynical voice, echoed our unspoken thought—‘It is a VERY strange affair!’ The horror-stricken porter crossed himself devoutly, and, falling on his knees, began to pray, while I in the meanwhile undid the bolts, opened the port, and rushed into the open street.

“The thing was altogether of so weird a character, that I almost doubted the evidence of my senses; yet, on recalling all the circumstances from first to last, the testimony affirming the events was altogether too strong, overpowering and direct, to be doubted for an instant.

“In books of ancient lore; in the old Black letter volumes of antiquity; in the recital of the exploits of Appolonius of TyanÆ; in the Life of Darwin; in the story of Grugantus, and in the ‘Records of the Weird Brethren of Appulia,’ I had read of Magic Marvels, almost too wonderful for the belief of those ignorant masses contemporaneous with the authors and heroes of the various legends. But in the light of modern learning, all these things had been resolved into three primitive elements, and these were: 1st., and principal. Ignorance of the Masses. 2d. The clouds of superstition which for long ages hovered over the world. And, 3d. The amazing skill possessed by the various arch-impostors of antiquity. Thus I accounted for much that was reported to have taken place in ‘y^e Old^en Ty^me;’ but how to explain away what myself and several others had just witnessed, on the same easy and general hypothesis, was a task altogether beyond achievement. To attempt to get rid of the difficulty on the supposition of mere ‘Fancy,’ was simply ridiculous: and yet, while one does not feel at liberty to admit the idea of Magic, here were circumstances of such a tremendous character, as to utterly forbid and defy explication upon any other ground whatever.

“This was the current of my thoughts as I left the street of Michel le Compte, and turned up that of the Temple. As I slowly walked along, buried in a labyrinth of conjecture, the idea suddenly occurred to me that perhaps, after all, Ravalette and the people of the house in the Rue Michel le Compte, might merely have been performing parts in a very cleverly designed, and capitally acted drama; though how to account for the kaleidoscopic changes of the coins, I could not at first imagine. ‘Ah!’ said I, at length, ‘I have it! Hurrah! Bravo! Eureka, ten times over! The secret’s out, and I’m the man that found it!’ A sudden thought occurred to me, by the aid of which, even the coin mystery, was cleared up most satisfactorily; and that which ten minutes before was a profound and horrible mystery, was now, apparently, as clear as the noontide sun. Here is the train of reasoning which led me to this hopeful result: Ravalette was a wealthy and eccentric gentleman, who, observing my natural enthusiasm for the antique, and aptitude to the occult, had determined to either amuse himself and friends at my expense, possibly for the purpose of curing some of them of what, perhaps, he regarded as the same weakness; or, taking pity on what he looked upon as a sad and dangerous infatuation, had resorted to this rather costly experiment, in the hope that at its termination a perfect cure might be effected. The people in the house were, together with the woman and children at the BarriÈre, his confederates in the scheme. He was a learned man; saw that I could not be easily taken in; and therefore brought the wonders of chemical and ventriloquial sciences to his assistance—the latter in the affair of the floating voice, the former in the matter of the coins or disks. These coins had been coated with a substance that would, on exposure to the atmosphere, exhale away; and with this exhalation the first set of characters would of course disappear. Beneath this external coating was another, which, on contact with the air, would assume a peculiar color; beneath this, in turn, was another, and still another; the last of all, being that on which was written the last series of letters composing a sentence. The appearance of these words was the cue to the patron to utter his cry, dash the coins from his hands, and pretend to swoon. In the commotion resultant therefrom, attention would be drawn from the cause of the apparent disaster, and afford ample opportunity for their removal. The sentence, ‘It is a very strange affair,’ would be the very one naturally suggested under the circumstances, and had happily been selected as the most fitting one to afford exercise to the ventriloquist employed; and this apparent echoing of an unspoken thought would add additional piquancy to the scene, and materially assist in piling up the horripilant.

“There! was not that a fine specimen of analysis? It was almost perfect, and would have answered most admirably had it not been for one little thing, and that was, simply, that it was not true—a trifling objection, perhaps, yet one absolutely fatal. Why, will be seen hereafter.

“I was just about half satisfied with my ingenious speculation, and no more, after the first burst of joy at my supposed discovery had subsided, and cool reason once more took the helm. Be it true or false, I determined to go back to Belleville and pursue my investigations a little further. A passing omnibus soon brought me to the BarriÈre, and to my great joy I saw the identical party that had made the curious remark about my being in search of my own ghost. The nurse and children were intently watching the evolutions of a set of nomadic marionettes, and listening to the stereo-type drolleries of the man in the box who worked the little puppets. Luckily the whole party, with at least three hundred others, were so taken up with the antics of Polichinel and his shrew of a wife, that the young ones nor the nurse saw me. I therefore stepped into a coffee-shop close at hand, called for a tasse, and then sent one of the waiters to fetch the woman with the three children dressed in yellow velveteen. The man obeyed, and speedily returned, followed by the party sent for.

“Upon seeing who it was that had summoned her, the young woman felt alarmed, fearing that the remarks she had made, when I entered the cab an hour or so previously, had offended me, and that my present business was to cause her to be punished for her insolence. For of all places on this civilized earth, Paris is the one where a stranger is best protected from injury or impertinence—at least, it then was. I soon set the woman’s mind at ease on that point; and having purchased some gÂteaux for the children, and the same, with a vessel of coffee, for the nurse, I requested her to be seated, and tell me what caused her to use such curious terms, with regard to myself, a little while before.

“‘Lord bless you, sir,’ she said, ‘I did but repeat what an old man said who stood on the side of the carriage opposite to that by which you entered. I had just crossed over from his side when you saw and heard me. As you came running down the street, everybody saw you, and that you were in a hurry, and several persons made observations as to the cause of your great haste. Said one, “The man’s mad!” said another, “His woman has just run off with a lover, taking his twins along for company’s sake, and he’s after them with a sharp stick!” Said the old man at my side, “He’s in search of what he won’t find very soon.” “What’s that, sir?” I ventured to ask. “He’s in search of—ahem!—in search of—his own ghost, my dear!” said the old man, as he darted up the street. The notion was so funny, that I remembered it all the while I was crossing the street—a very long time for us Bonnes to recollect anything, mon cher ami; and when Auburt there asked me what ailed you, why, I looked wise, and repeated the grey-beard’s observation, and—another cup of coffee, if you please—that was all.’

“I breathed freer. ‘But tell me, my dear, what sort of man this old fellow was?’ ‘Certainly—another gÂteau, garÇon; monsieur will pay for it—certainly!’ and the young woman went on to describe—Ravalette! as well as I could have done myself, had that mysterious individual stood before me then and there. It was enough. I was satisfied, and determined to push my inquiries further. I thanked the girl, paid the bill of thirty-five sous, left the place, and hurried as fast as I possibly could to the flower-gardens, that, it will be remembered, Ravalette and myself had visited together. I went to the first one, and asked the gardener if he had seen the old man who had been my companion on a recent visit, an hour or two before?

“‘Old man? Well, you are a funny man, to call a boy of seventeen years an old man! I recollect you well enough, for you bought a fine bouquet, one of the damask roses composing which you now carry in your button-hole. I remember you well enough, and the beardless stripling, your companion; but I have not seen him since you both left together.’

“‘Bah, my friend!’ said I, ‘it won’t do. I know perfectly well that my comrade here was not a youngster, but a man of full seventy years of age, if a single day!’

“‘SacrÉ bleu! You’d better tell me I lie at once, and be done with it! You may say it was an old man, but I’ll be cursed if it wasn’t a young one, not yet out of his teens; and what’s more to the purpose, I’ll back my opinion, and bet you an even bottle of Jean Lafitte, forty-two years old, that the person who accompanied you here this day was a small, thin, sallow-faced youth of not over fifteen years! Will you take the wager?’

“‘Yes, and forty more just like it; but who shall be our umpire, and decide the bet?’

“‘Why, let the witnesses, my men, and my wife or daughter, decide. I’ll warrant they won’t lie for the sake of a bottle of wine. Are you agreed?’

“‘Yes, call them on; I’ll trust them.’

“‘Of course you may, for they are honest folks. My wife let you both in at the door; I sold you a bouquet; one of my men went round the garden with you, and the other ran to fetch change for the five-franc piece you gave me to take pay from. Here, wife, Joseph, and Pierre; come here all of you. I’ve made a bet with the gentleman, and want you three to decide it.’

“In a moment the persons called stood before us, and the gardener said to me: ‘Now, monsieur, you and I will go to the other end of the garden; when there, I will describe to you the person who accompanied you here this afternoon. Then we will call the witnesses, one at a time, first separating them, so that they cannot agree upon a uniform story for or against me, but give the truth exactly, as the truth appears to each one.’

“Nothing could be fairer than this proposition, and therefore I gave my assent to it immediately; whereupon the two men were sent to stand at opposite ends of the garden, his wife took her place in a third, while her husband and myself went to the fourth. Having arrived there:

“‘Your friend,’ said the gardener, ‘was just as I have described him, with this addition, that he wore polish-leather shoes, a Leghorn or Panama hat, carried a switch cane, wore light jean pantaloons, a coat au saque, and vest of white Cashmere. Remember this. Now, Joseph, come here,’ said he, raising his voice and motioning the man toward us. ‘Be so good as to describe the person who came here to-day with this gentleman.’

“‘I will with pleasure, master. The negro who came with this gentleman was very fat and heavy, had large splay feet, tremendous hands, broad, flat face, a nose that would weigh a pound, and lips twice as heavy. His hair was woolly, teeth very white and regular; and he wore low shoes, green cap, knee breeches, red vest, and purple jacket!’

“It is difficult to say which of us two looked most astonished when Joseph finished his portrait of my companion. Joseph was the man who conducted us around the garden. We were the only visitors of the day, and—

“‘Damn it, Joseph, you must be crazy! for the man was’——

“‘Hold on!’ said I to the gardener; ‘remember the terms of our wager, and say nothing till all have been questioned on the subject;’ then, turning to the man, I said: ‘Go to your corner, Joseph. Pierre, come hither;’ and he came.

“‘Now, my friend, we want you to accurately describe the individual who accompanied me to these gardens to-day. Tell us exactly how the person appeared to you. Will you, my friend?’

“‘Oui, certainement. The old lady you mean. Malateste! It makes me laugh—pardonez moi, monsieur, but I can’t help it—it makes me laugh to think about her, ma foi! What a queer old lady it was, to be sure! Such a little pinched-up face; and what a nose and chin, look you! Ecod! it was for all the world la casse-noix—a regular pair of nut-crackers! Certes, I took her to be the grandmother of Methusalah, or sister to Adam’s first wife. Oh, ho, ho—he, ha, peste! I shall die o’ laughing! And then such a dress! Not a single article of cloth about her, but all she wore made of thin green-and-blue morocco; and then such dainty slippers, looking for all the world as if made of the wings of Pappilon! and such a head-dress—withered flowers, and two bushels of faded ribbon! Par le grande Dieu, the lady was a queer one!’ and Pierre went back to his corner, laughing as if he would explode.

“The gardener looked astonished beyond all measure. How I looked cannot be told; but how I felt, no mortal pen could possibly describe. We both kept silent, and advanced to where Madame la JardiniÈre stood, patiently waiting her turn to be questioned, and impatiently wondering what was the matter with Pierre, the fellow laughed so uproariously, and enjoyed ‘the feast of memory’ with such a decided gusto.

“‘Ma chere femme,’ said my comrade, ‘will you please be so good as to describe the person whom you admitted here to-day along with monsieur? Certes, I believe the Devil himself is at the bottom of the business, for no two persons are agreed in description. But you, my darling, you, who are all the while reading poetry books;—all about Vido (Ovid?), and Virgil, and Spearshaker, and all those great people—you can describe this person perfectly; can’t you, my sweet?’ and the gardener looked imploringly at his plump and buxom compagnon de lit.

“Now, of all mortals it is most unsafe and dangerous to flatter a French woman, and madame was French all the way through; consequently she determined, on so fitting an occasion, to prove her husband’s encomiums perfectly well founded; and she began the display with a quotation from the Bard of Avon’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.

“‘Ah, mon ange avec les bottes—my angel in boots—do you not know that Joseph has been a poet ever since I instructed him in trochees, dactyls, spondees, dythyrambics, hexameters, iambics, acatalectics, and—anapests—and’——

“‘Oh, may the devil fly away with all of your Anna cats, or Mary cats!—damn all cats! And as for your Anna Pests—why, what’s she got to do with Joseph? Is she another grisette the fellow’s running after? Why, that’s fifteen different women in fifteen weeks. I can’t see how the fellow’s constitution stands it: and then you’ve done the introducing business? Shame on you—you ought to be’——

“Here I stepped in and told the gardener that his lady did not mean cats or females, but simply feet, measures, and scansions of poetry. This mollified him, and the lady courtesied to me, and resumed:

“‘Yes, darling—ogre’—this last was spoken sub voce—‘yes, dearest, the gentleman’s right. Joseph is a poet; Pierre is a lunatic; and the gentleman himself is beyond all question as deeply in love as he can get; and these are the reasons why neither describes the person who attended with him alike. That prince of soldiers, who because he was so terrible in war, when he shook his spear, the English call Shake-the-spear, says that—

“‘But what, my dear, has all this to do with the questions I asked you? Look here, Ninette; I believe it’s you that’s gone mad, rose in love—sacre!—I wish I could catch you and your Shake-the-spear loving once. I’d fix him and you too, my lady, that I would! I’d fix his flint so that he wouldn’t shake any more spears around my garden, that I would! Will you have done with all your rigmarole, and tell what you know?’

“‘Certainly. The gentleman’s sweetheart, who came with him to-day, and who went with me into my private room to arrange her hair and adjust her petticoats, was as fine and pretty a young blonde of eighteen years as ever sat a man’s heart beating triple bobmajors against his ribs. Such ankles, such feet, such a bloom upon her cheeks and lips!—ah! and such a tournure! such hips, such embonpoint! Sacristie! it’s lucky I was not a man when I fixed her crinoline, or, ma foi! I should have gone mad and run off with her, leaving monsieur to mourn his loss, while I revelled in the essence of love with his fiancÉe. Besides that’——

“‘Stop, stop, Ninette—for God’s sake stop! I have lost a bottle of Jean Lafitte, forty odd years old, and lost my brains besides!’

“Here the whole five of us collected in a group, and an explanation followed which instantly banished all mirth from Pierre, and all poetry from la JardiniÈre.

“Declining all thoughts of the wager and the wine, I left the party in a maze of stupor, and sped as hastily as I could to the Guinguette, or Tea-Garden, where, it will be remembered, Ravalette and myself had entered to converse with the proprietor regarding his novel and costly experiment in the way of feasting poor people a la les richeuse.

“Entering this place, I put the same question to the proprietor that I had to the gardener and the man of Michel le Compte; but instead of surprise at his answer, I was absolutely dumb-founded, for the man insisted that I entered the shop quite alone, but that I had conversed with him in two separate and perfectly distinct voices, au ventriloque—which he had regarded as very singular, but concluded that I was a student of ventriloquism, and took every opportunity to test my proficiency, and had now come back to ascertain what success attended the experiment.

“I was too much horrified to speak; but, simply nodding my adieux, took my departure in a mood much easier to be imagined than described.

“Not yet content, I made inquiries as to whether any one had seen two horsemen of a peculiar description pass through any of the streets of Belleville.

“Nobody had seen any such, or indeed any horsemen whatever. I was thunderstruck.

“‘I’ll track them!’ I cried, as a last resource; ‘for the place where we walked, where the horse and groom stood waiting, and where the old man mounted, was a soft, yielding, grassless turf. This will decide whether I have been dealing with the living or the dead, and that too in this broad daylight.’

“I ran thither. Not a trace of a horse’s hoofs; not a single vestige of Ravalette’s footprints save one, and that one the fac-simile of the description formerly given. My own foot-marks were plain enough, but only the one other was to be found! Here the mystery grew thicker and thicker, nor could I see the first glimmer of a way to clear it up.

“Slowly and despondently, I retraced my steps toward Paris, taking care to inquire as I went, whether any person had seen two men on horseback go toward Charronne, Villette, Menilmontant, or through the BarriÈres. I might just as well not have asked.

“But the chapter of devilry was not yet concluded, for what subsequently took place actually threw all that had gone before it entirely in the shade. These things I will now relate, first premising my narrative.

“One day, about a week before I first spoke to Ravalette in the Louvre, I happened to be spending an afternoon in the Palais Royale, along with my friends the Barons di Corvaja and Du P——t, to both of whom I had taken letters from America. On the day alluded to, I met at D——’s room in the Rue Beaujolais, and then and there became acquainted with, an English gentleman of easy means and polished mind, by the name of Carr. This gentleman resided with his family in a splendid mansion in the Rue du Chemin Vert. After a long and interesting conversation, we parted, but not till Mr. Carr had cordially taken me by the hand, expressed a desire to maintain the acquaintance, and invited me to call on him at his residence in the Rue du Chemin Vert. I felt gratified at his frankness, and accepted his polite invitation. Mr. Carr named the day, and I agreed to go; and accordingly had spent the evening and took tea with him, his family and a few select guests, some five or six days before the eventful day, the achievement of which I have just recounted. The thing which I am about to narrate is not only strange, but in many respects horrible, and my mind is agitated to the last degree by the astounding occurrences—things which I beheld with my own eyes, felt with my own senses, realized with my own spirit; and yet I scarcely dare give credit to that which I am sensible cannot, could not have been an illusion. My soul is filled with wonder; and I hasten to give a true version of the affair while all is yet fresh and vivid before me; indeed, it will ever be so, till age shall numb my faculties.”

CHAPTER IV.
MURDER WILL OUT.

“The circumstances were, briefly, these:

“I attended, as before observed, the fÊte sociale, at the house of my friend Mr. Carr—Leonard Carr. The party was given in honor of a young literary friend of the family, who had recently gained great renown as a writer of fiction. To this young man I was introduced just before we all sat down to the festive board to partake of the many good things so bounteously set before us.

“After the repast was concluded we all adjourned to the parlor and entered into conversation. Topic after topic had been discussed, and at length the ‘Turning tables,’ then so rife in all parts of the world, and Paris especially, became the theme of observation and criticism.

“‘Bah!’ said Mrs. Carr, ‘I deem the whole thing silly, besides being one of the most contemptible humbugs ever ran after by a pack of silly people—I was going to say—fools: I am convinced there is really nothing in it, and that all this stuff about moving furniture, and ghosts, and other spectral gentry, is but the product of heated fancy, if not of heads and hearts devoid of truth, principle, and moral rectitude; stories got up for swindling purposes, and to gull that credulous pack of ninnies known as “The Public,”—and a precious set they are, to be sure! Who believes, for instance, a tithe of the reputed wonders of the famous American “Miracle Circle,” or that they are anything more than clever tricks played off by a set of waggish fellows on a gullible community of Yankees, having in view the ultimate object of exposing and exploding the whole so-called spiritual mysteries? I don’t, I’m sure.’

“Poor lady! She little dreamed under what cruel circumstances she was doomed so soon to verify the truth of the Latin motto,

so meaningly quoted to myself by Ravalette. Little did she then dream, in the plenitude of intellect, that not many days would elapse ere she admitted all she now so mockingly and scornfully derided and laughed at, and that ere long she would cower in the very extremity of terror and mental dread, before these very mysteries she now so dogmatically denied.

“Her husband took upon himself the task of answering her, thus relieving us guests of the always unpleasant office of holding a wordy contest with a woman. He said:

“‘You are, my dear, permit me to say, in behalf of myself and these gentlemen, a little too hasty in your conclusions, too sweeping in your remarks, and in the characterization of the wonderful phenomena of these latter days. I know, my love, that you will give me credit for rather more than the usual share of suspicion, scepticism, and doubt, regarding certain marvellous things said to have recently taken place in England, America, and even here in Paris. You know that it is my nature to admit nothing as proved—especially of such an implied nature—without absolute demonstrative evidence. The proof must be irrefragible—the testimony unbroken and indubitable, else I accept nothing. I certainly do not believe in spirits, much less that such things come to this world and flit and move around us, taking interest in all our affairs, and meddling with our business in a thousand ways, as it is alleged they do by those who believe in them. And yet, with all this, I confess that I have seen things that stagger me—indeed, that demonstrate beyond dispute the existence of a power, mighty, secret, occult, and working out its marvellous designs without the slightest human aid or influence whatever. Mind me, I do not attribute any or all of these results to spiritual agency, but I do say that the force at bottom is marvellously intelligent, and for all the world like that of man’s. For instance, you will remember F——, who came from America to astonish the French. Well, actuated by curiosity, I resolved to form one of a circle of six who had made arrangements to test his powers at his own rooms. Accordingly we met him by appointment at the CafÉ Jououy near the Palaise Royal, and together we seven started for his hotel. Now, as I walked along, the idea suggested itself, that perhaps the fellow had made arrangements in his rooms to surprise us by a resort to some mountebankish performance, and therefore, in order to try his sincerity, and at the same time guard against any mere trickery or legerdemain, I suggested that we repair to apartments elsewhere than at his hotel. To my surprise he assented to this arrangement without a murmur, and we repaired to a room at the house of one of the company, Monsieur Benjamin, in the Rue de Clichy. When there, we all sat around a small table with our fourteen hands laid flat upon its top. For a while nothing occurred, save a few knocks or thumps upon the table, which F—— attributed to spirits, but which I suspected his knees produced. While thus we sat (it was broad daylight, and the sun shone brightly through the windows), we distinctly saw, and I actually, palpably felt of, a fifteenth hand. This hand was apparently solid flesh and blood. It appeared to be that of a mulatto girl of fifteen or sixteen summers, and one of the party subsequently told me in confidence that it was the very fac-simile of the right hand of a girl whom he once knew in the Isle de Bourbon, and who had destroyed herself by poison for love of the very man who told me the story! This hand came from beneath the table and extended itself eight or ten inches over the edge at first. Then it gradually rose in the air, displaying a magnificent set of fingers, upon the middle joint of one of which appeared the semblance of a large and peculiarly-shaped brown mole, surrounded by three smaller ones, and it was by these marks that my friend pretended to recognize it. The hand was attached to about two-fifths of a fore-arm, completely covered with the semblance of a lace sleeve, terminating at the wrist in a jewelled band, and at the other extremity by a flaring and projecting ruffle. The hand, after a while, rose into the air, where it floated for two minutes. It then descended, seized hold of a small silver bell upon the mantel and rung it sharply all over the room; after which it replaced it, took hold of a pencil and wrote forty-seven words upon the ceiling of the lofty-vaulted apartment; threw down the pencil, patted each of our hands, and then gradually faded away in the air, just over the centre of the table. We rose after it had gone, placed a stand upon the table, a chair upon that, so as to reach the writing on the wall (which yet remained there), and found a short message to the company in general, and signed by the very name of Mr. ——’s inamorata of the Isle de Bourbon! Now, my dear, was all this hum-bug?’

“To this, the lady, whose scepticism would not abate one jot, even in the face of such an—to all but a Rosicrucian—overwhelming demonstration as this, replied:

“‘Why, I presume you had all taken a little too much wine, fell asleep, got up, wrote on the wall, and—Bah! It’s all humbug! and that settles the question at once!’

“The lady was silent, and the literary lion—I will call him Mr. A——, for whom the party was gotten up, entered the arena of conversation, and observed that: ’Spectral or Spiritual science—he preferred the former term—was yet but in its infancy in Christendom, provided what a casual acquaintance of his, a man of extraordinary research in all things occult, and whom he had met under peculiar circumstances but a little while before—affirmed to be true with regard to the faith, philosophy, and practices of a certain branch or rather family of the Hindoos or other Eastern tribes.

“‘This individual,’ pursued Mr. A——, ‘is a firm and devout believer in Spiritualism, and yet contends that not over two-tenths of what passes current under that term, is really that which it is claimed to be. Nay, further: he declares, and gives his reasons why, which latter are very just and tenable, that not more than once in fifty times are the actions and speeches delivered under trance the result of Spiritual action; but that when not the absolute offspring of imposture, which is rarely the case, other, and very often purely physical causes are at work, which are frequently far more potent than what is known as “spiritual influence,” inasmuch as the results are productive of better, greater, and more satisfactory phenomena, and of far more interest and value to mankind, and which have been entirety overlooked in the haste and zeal with which people seek to gratify their thirst for the marvellous, by attributing whatever baffles their powers of analysis to a supermundane origin.

“‘This person,’ continued Mr. A., ‘asserted also that he could himself produce similar and even far more wonderful and startling effects, by means entirely material, than many which are claimed to originate beyond the earth. “This,” said he, “I can do under circumstances that will forever put the quietus on one portion of the spiritual theory. There is a science in existence that may very properly be called Spectreology or Phantomism, whose wonders vie with the best of those emanating really from the spirit world!” During his travels in the Orient, he said, the modus operandi of several startling effects had been imparted to him by a person named Ramo Djava, and that, were it not for his greatly impaired health, which rendered the experiments alluded to highly dangerous, he would give public displays of his power. As to the means used, that must remain a secret, for he had promised to initiate only one person, and that not till his dying hour. But, at all events, he was willing to demonstrate, before a select few, that there really is more between earth and heaven than even the loftiest savants dream of.

“‘Having my curiosity thus excited, I, with great difficulty, prevailed on this person to consent to give a display of his ability, before a select circle of eighteen. I have invited five persons, and the present company will exactly complete the requisite number, and I cheerfully extend you all an invitation to be present at half-past six o’clock precisely, at the mansion of our mutual friend, the Baron de Marc, this day week!’

“This ended the conversation on that particular theme, and, shortly afterwards, the party dissolved, agreeing to meet again on the night mentioned, which, strange coincidence! was the very one of the singular adventure with ‘the ghost of Ravalette;’ for, to tell the truth, I had by this time begun to suspect that my old man of the Louvre—he who appeared under three different aspects at one and the same time, nay, under five, and who was heard to speak, though himself unseen, by the man of the Guinguette—was something more than mortal.

“You must bear in mind the fact, that the party and conversation at Mr. Carr’s took place before I had ever seen Ravalette at all to speak with him. And now, if you please, we will continue the train of events in progress before I made this digression.

“You will remember that, after making fruitless inquiries for the two horsemen, and an equally fruitless search after foot-prints on the soil near Belleville, that I took my way toward Paris, slowly, on foot, musing deeply as I went along. As I passed down the Rue Faubourg du Temple, the tolling of a distant clock announced the hour of four. I remembered my engagement at the Baron’s, but, as I had fully two hours left in which to dress for the occasion, I determined to drop in at D’Emprat’s, in the Rue Michel le Compte, as I went by, and hear whatever might have turned up in my absence.

“I reached the street, and was greatly surprised to find a large and highly excited crowd of people before the gate, and the more so, as I beheld the surplices of at least a dozen priests of the Order St. Lazare, elbowing their way, and trying to pass both in and out of the house.

“With heart palpitating with vague and dread uneasiness, I approached an intelligent-looking man, and, assuming a carelessness by no means felt, asked him the cause and reason of the gathering.

“‘Lord bless you, sir!’ he said. ‘Do you not know that the devil and five of his imps have just been on a visit to that house, and carried off three or four of the inmates through the roof in a flame of blue fire? If you don’t know it, I assure you it is a fact!’

“I saw in this answer the legitimate effect of superstition, and that the man’s cloth belied his intelligence; I, therefore, drew out a sheet of paper and a pencil, and began to flourish them in the eyes of the crowd for the purpose of attracting its attention.

“My ruse succeeded; the people set me down as a reporter of the press, and instantly gave way right and left; so that I had but little difficulty in gaining an entrance to the building. Once there, I soon learned that the poor D’Emprat had relapsed into the swoon occasioned by his first fright, and had passed thence into the most frightful convulsions, exclaiming all the while, as the thick foam rolled from his bloodless lips, ‘Oh, the devil! the devil has come for my soul, because I killed Baptiste Lemoine thirty-seven years ago! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! They will drag me to hell! Ah, God!’

“His wife had exerted all her influence and power to stifle these dangerous cries, but without avail. His cries still increased in fury, until at last the police had forced an entrance into the house, and were speedily followed by a score of priests, who, hearing that the devil was in Paris, in proper person, were very anxious to try the effect of a little shower-bath of holy water, as well as to get a sight of their arch enemy, whom, doubtless, the vast majority of them regarded secretly as nothing more than a man—or, rather, devil—of straw.

“The news spread like wild-fire that the devil had appeared, and to the questions asked by priest and bailiff of the porter, he confirmed the rumor, and told, as best he could, the incidents of the afternoon. His story did not rest here, however, but, taking two of the officers aside, he told them something which caused them to start back in the wildest horror, and cross themselves most devoutly. The result of the interview was, that the officers cautioned the porter from uttering one word of what he had just told them to any person else. After this, they all again entered the room where D’Emprat was still struggling in all the terrors of delirium, still accusing himself of a long-committed homicide, still calling on God and the priests to save him from the clutches of the devil, whom he averred he saw beside him armed with fork and trident, ready to drag his unfortunate soul to perdition and the damned. During all this fearful scene, Madame D’Emprat was doing all she could to quiet her husband, but without avail. The man went on harder than before. The ghosts of evil deeds were there, and avenging angels lashed his soul to frenzy.

“‘Be still,’ she cried, ‘for Jesus’ sake, be still! They will carry you to BicÊtre, and from there to le Boureau, and you will die au coupe tÊte![8] Oh, be still! or, if you must talk, say something else than that!’

“Every word uttered by the woman and the man was quietly written down, unobserved, by one of the officers, who used my pencil and paper, and the back of his comrade as a desk.

“What strange, mysterious power was it that caused me mechanically to purchase a pencil and paper on my way from Belleville down to Michel le Compte?

“God’s ways are mysterious, altogether past finding out; and I inwardly praised him as the mighty fact became apparent, that the people of the house were not in league, as I had conjectured might be the case, with Ravalette; and that the mysterious agent of Divine Retribution was not of an infernal nature, be it or he whatever else. A load was lifted off my heart—too soon, alas! to be let down heavier than before.

“‘You did not kill him, D’Emprat! So don’t say you did any more!’ exclaimed the woman in the accents of despair.

“‘ ’Tis a lie! I did!’ yelled the unfortunate man. ‘I killed him with the hatchet in the cellar, and buried him under the grey horse’s stall in the stable!’

“‘My God! we are ruined!’ screamed the now frantic woman. ‘I always suspected that you killed my brother, but never believed it until now. And, yet, I do not even now believe it; for’——

“‘I can prove it; for I well remember a bloody hatchet, and that master never would let me clean the stable of the grey horse; and that I have watched him dig gold from the ground there, and heard him accuse himself in his sleep!’ said the concierge, coming forward.

“‘Then, D’Emprat, and you, madame, I arrest in the name of the law; and you, porter, as a witness. Officers, do your duty—take the prisoners—clear the house!’ said their chief.

“Five minutes afterwards, the unfortunate people were being led to prison, and I was on the way to my hotel to dress—even under such circumstances—for the soirÉe at the Baron’s, but in a frame of mind that little fitted me to be a spectator of philosophical experiments. Yet my word was pledged, and go I must, and go I did—six o’clock finding me in the Baron’s parlor.

“I am perfectly sensible that, even in what I have narrated, the credulity of many persons would be taxed to the utmost. It is easy enough to believe that such things as I have described occurred long ages ago, in the green and halcyon days of Magic, but it is difficult to imagine such things as taking place in the broad light of this nineteenth century. Millions, aye hundreds of millions, have believed, do, and, in coming years, perhaps ages, will believe in the startling records of a magic similar to that I have detailed, and which is described so briefly, yet so graphically, in the Book of Exodus; and yet these people will strenuously insist that the day of such things—of such exhibitions of the Upper Magic—has for ever passed away, totally unmindful of the great fact, that, when the astonishing things there recorded were accomplished, there must of necessity have been a law—a natural law—in accordance with, and by which, they were done, and that no law of Nature has ever yet been repealed; consequently, they must exist to-day in as full perfection and power as ever.

“What remains of the present affair to be told, may, with what has already been related (and the truth of which may be ascertained most readily by correspondence with the parties named), be implicitly relied on as correct in all essential particulars; and yet, the occurrences that took place on that eventful night are of a kind so horrible, so utterly monstrous, that, at times, I almost believe that we all—twelve healthful men, and six women—were laboring under some strong delusion. I should still cling to this belief, with the pertinacity of a miser to his golden god, the bigot to his creed, or the drowning wretch to the narrow plank that promises a renewal of life’s tenure, were it not that facts, appalling in themselves, forever and utterly preclude the possibility that I—that we—were mistaken and deceived. What these facts were, will be most clearly shown in the sequel.”

CHAPTER V.
SÉANCE AT THE BARON’S—DIABLERIE EXTRAORDINAIRE.

“When I reached the house I found the company above enumerated seated in the parlor, and all most anxiously awaiting the appearance of the individual who was to afford us entertainment, and, if possible, some instruction also. For awhile it appeared that we were doomed to be disappointed. The expected party had promised to attend at thirty minutes to eight, and it was nearly that time already, and still there were no signs of his coming; but, as St. Eustache tolled out the half hour, a ring at the door-bell announced his arrival.

“The man was a tall and comely personage, apparently of Irish extraction, and had nothing whatever about him at all remarkable; indeed, he was a very so-soish sort of individual, who at first refused his name to everybody, because, to quote his own words: ‘If I remain incog. I shall not be lionized, which in other terms means “bored,” and pestered by persons seeking to gratify a morbid and impertinent curiosity—people who look for full-grown miracles, and expect to find them, instead of studying arts and sciences, and therewith increasing their knowledge and enriching their experience by a more intimate acquaintance with philosophic truths, and the recondite mysteries of mighty Nature.’

“The gentleman was very polished and polite, entering freely into conversation, and seemed altogether so well pleased with his audience that he threw off all reserve, laughed, joked, made puns, played upon words, and kept us in good spirits for half an hour, at the end of which time he gave us his name as a profound secret, to go no further. That name was a singular one. It was Mai Vatterale—a very curious name! He soon proposed an adjournment to the back parlor, and after reaching it he proceeded to arrange the chairs, six in a line, in the form of a triangle; after doing this, Monsieur Vatterale signified to the Baron that his part of the preliminaries was completed, whereupon that gentleman, turning to his guests, said: ‘I was informed on the day that the present meeting was arranged with Monsieur, that in all cases it was absolutely necessary that the physical systems of all who assist at, or witness his experiments, should be duly fortified with food, for what particular reason I cannot imagine, nor is it necessary that I should inquire, seeing that it is his rule, of which all present were duly notified, so that all might forego their usual repasts at their own homes, and partake of a little souper with me, previous to commencing our experiments, and’——

“‘Permettez moi, s’il vous plait,’ said Vatterale, courteously. ‘Si cela vous est agrÉable’—it is my custom, and is for the purpose of preventing any ill effects that might result from a shock of the nerves, which, believe me, you will be apt to experience before we have done.’ Of course such an explanation, indicating, as it certainly did, no small degree of preventive solicitude on the part of the illustrious foreigner, was perfectly satisfactory, and was accepted in a proper spirit by the whole company.

“‘This way, ladies; this way, gentlemen, follow me,’ said the Baron, gaily giving his arm to his wife, and leading the way to his splendid salle a manger.

“The worthy noble had called it un petit souper, but the magnificent spread before us rendered it a somewhat difficult task to imagine what would constitute a grand supper in his estimation. To describe it is no part of the task I am engaged on; and, therefore, I shall merely observe that it was a most recherchÉ affair. The furniture of the table, as well as the viands themselves, was of the most sumptuous description, everything on it being of the richest and heaviest gold and silver plate—heir-looms of the old Noblesse, from whom the Baron was descended.

“Dinner or supper once over, we all left the table, and once more adjourned to the back parlor, and took seats in the chairs arranged in a triangle, the ladies, six in number, occupying those which formed the western arm thereof. When we all were properly and comfortably seated, there was quite a large vacant space before us, into which Vatterale placed two chairs facing each other, and also two foot-stools covered with damask plush-velvet close together in the other angle. He then proceeded to lock all the doors leading into the apartment, tied all the keys together with a piece of scarlet ribbon, and then hung them to one of the glass prisms pendent from a large gas chandelier directly over the centre of what I may call, not inappropriately, our circle. The jets of this chandelier, seven in number, were all in full play under a strong head of gas, and the room in all parts was quite as light as if the sun shone into the windows, two of which occupied the northern end of the parlor, both being very richly curtained, and both quite shut. I repeat, lest trickery in what followed should be suspected by yourself, that the seven jets of gas were brightly burning, and continued so all the evening, except when extinguished, without the aid of human hands; and as they were put out, so also were they relighted more than once.

“Having disposed of the bunch of keys, Vatterale went to both windows, examined them closely, fastened them down securely—that is to say, the lower sashes; for he let down one of the upper ones, and threw the eastern external blinds wide open, and fastened them so. Of course, the master of ceremonies had never been in that dwelling before, and of course could not have obtained information respecting it by the usual methods of visit and inquiry, yet, turning to the Baron, he requested him to ring for the servant, and through the closed door bid him remove an ornamental iron sofa from the chamber immediately above our heads, into the dark bed-room on the third floor, as its presence where it then stood would materially affect the experiments to be made!

“This request, made under such circumstances, surprised us all, but particularly the Baron, who stared at the man who made it, as if he regarded him as one risen from the dead; and it was, forsooth, rather a startling circumstance, to say the least. He admitted that there was such a room, and such a dark chamber, au troisiÈme. Yet how the man knew it, was very strange, considering that he had been in the house but a short time, and had not left us for a moment, nor spoken a single word to any of the servants, save on entering, to inquire if this was the Baron’s residence.

“Scarcely had we recovered from the surprise natural on such an occasion, than we were again made sensible that we were dealing with an extraordinary man, for, turning to me, he begged the loan of a small metallic coin which I had received as a present from Mr. Carr less than ten minutes before Vatterale entered the house, and which coin was remarkably curious and valuable on account of its high antiquity, and it was one of the only two known to be in existence, and had been begged for me by Mr. Carr, from his friend Blaise de JongÉ, the celebrated Eastern traveller, and had only been sent in a note to Mr. Carr, by that eminent savant, the night previous. Having received the coin, Vatterale placed it in his pocket, and then taking out a set of ivory tablets, wrote a request thereon, and handed it to Madame la Marquise de la Fronde, an elderly lady, foster sister to the Baron. The request was altogether so singular and so novel, that the old lady immediately read it aloud: ‘Will Madame la Marquise have the goodness to retire to the alcove and remove from between her feet and stockings the metallic plates, and, separating the zinc from the copper ones, place each metal plate with its own kind, and restore them to her feet outside the hose!’ The lady almost fainted with astonishment, for she averred that no mortal knew that she wore such plates, but that she had for ten years, and found them, by reason of the electric currents they elaborated and imparted to her system, highly beneficial to her health. She retired as requested, and, returning in a minute, convinced us of the marvellous seeing faculty of the mysterious Mai, by exhibiting the plates, which were precisely as he had described. She again retired, and, shortly returning, resumed her seat. These preliminaries being concluded, Vatterale brought into the open space before us a small portmanteau, which he carried in his hand when he entered the mansion. From this he now took a coil of wire—indeed, three small coils tied together—also a saucer of large dimensions of stone China, or thick, very thick porcelain, a large vial containing a colorless liquid, a box of paste or gum, two large, and entirely empty, thin bottles—so thin that we all looked through them at the light, as he handed them to us for that purpose. They were as clear as the best window glass, as thin and as brittle, apparently, as the finest crystal. From the same receptacle he also took what looked like three rolls of paper, one very large when unfolded, the others quite small indeed. The larger bundle he unrolled and spread upon the floor, on the space between the chairs and fauteuils. It was about three feet in diameter, and was painted in all sorts of colors, and figures entirely nondescript. The centre of this article was immediately that of the triangle, ‘The Symbolical figure of the Universe, or Oneness,’ as he called it, and of course was directly beneath the large chandelier. This done, he placed the saucer right upon the centre of the symbolical chart, if I may so term it. Then, unfastening the coils of wire, he laid one along the laps of the gentlemen on one side, and fastened it by means of a link and hook to two others, which passed in front of the other two sections of the human trine. The wire held by the ladies (for we all were directed to grasp the wire before us with one hand, and the hand of the next neighbor with the other) was common iron, wound with silver foil; the one before myself was steel, wound with gold wire; and the other was of solid gold, wound, as were the others, at intervals, with floss silk. The ladies grasped with the left hand, and joined their right, while with the gentlemen this order was reversed. The next proceeding on the part of Mai, was to place half of the gum into the saucer; upon this he emptied the vial of colorless liquid, and set fire thereto. It burned with a clear and steady bluish flame. The gum was gradually consumed, and a peculiar and most delightful fragrance floated through the room.

“During the burning process, the operator sat upon the stool, and gazed fixedly and intently upon, or rather toward, the open sash, while the rest of us were chatting merrily, and wondering what would be the result of all these weird and curious preparations.

“I said the rest of us were merrily chatting, but must qualify that observation by excluding from this employment one person, and that person was—myself, for I found it utterly impossible to mingle in the conversation with that abandon and unreserve which characterized the others. It was altogether beyond my power to forget the tremendous experiences of that very day, which I had undergone. A weight was on my spirit that could not be lifted off. The ‘Ghost of Ravalette’ seemed to be invisibly hovering over me, and although unseen, his presence seemed to be palpably felt by me. The events at Belleville constantly obtruded themselves before the eye of the mind; the affair at the gardener’s, the singular result of his impromptu wager, the woman at the BarriÈre, and, above all, the frightful occurrences at the Rue Michel le Compte, with its sure—absolutely sure—termination on the Guillotine—the miserable and ignominious death of D’Emprat, and the unearthly means whereby his deed of crime—the crime a horrible murder, committed thirty-seven years before—the unearthly and mysterious means, I repeat, by which his guilt was brought to light—this, all this, so oppressed me that I could not take a present interest in what was transpiring about me. Indeed, I cared little for either Mai or his tricks—which, from observing the method of his preparations, I had already not only despised, but put down to the score of legerdemain—clever and surprising, but still nothing more than legerdemain.

“How rudely this conceit was broken up, how horribly I was convinced of my mistaken estimate of the man before us, will very soon be seen. As for his skill in detecting the coin, the sofa, and the plates, I had already secretly accounted. I remembered Caspar Hauser, and several other Sensitives, who could detect the presence of metals by what may be called ‘magnetic sense.’ His description of the dark bed-room au troisiÈme, was very simple, for nearly all old houses have such chambers on that floor; this was an old house; Vatterale saw it, and made what preliminary capital he could from his acuteness. With the present weight of experience; with the memory of the deeds of the mystical Ravalette still fresh in mind, of course I could not be very highly interested in such displays of minor magic as I felt convinced were very shortly to be made by the conjuring gentleman before us.

“Suddenly the man whose pretensions I had just been inwardly criticising, partially raised himself from the stool, threw back his head until his long, wavy locks fell upon his shoulders, and muttered between his teeth, as if the word-birth was extremely painful, ‘He is coming!’ and we noticed that his face, naturally of a dingy yellow, suddenly became of an ashen-hued paleness, and his eyes darted forth luminous sparks that were plainly visible even amid the glare of that brilliantly-lighted apartment; and at the same instant he placed his right hand over the region of his heart—that is to say, over that part where nine-and-ninety of every hundred suppose the heart to be, namely, under the left breast. He did this as if to repress a rising pang, then turning to his audience, he exclaimed—‘Look sharp! Be firm! be fearless! be attentive! but if you would avoid danger, a nameless, but great danger, stir not, move not from your seats. Grasp the cord, retain each other’s hands, make what remarks you may deem proper, but stir not an inch—a single inch from your seats, happen what may! I am going to surprise you.’

“We all assented verbally, and not a few of the company began even to joke him on his sorcery and magic, when we all started from our seats, but were instantly motioned back by an anxious frown and a commanding, magisterial wave of his right hand. The simultaneous movement on our part, was caused by a yell, for such it was, that proceeded, not, as might be anticipated, from a female, but from a Mr. Theodore Dwight, an American gentleman, hailing from Philadelphia—and at the present time still dwelling there.

“This person, as all who know him will certify, is no weak, puling, nerveless man, for a man more the opposite of all this could scarce be found in a month’s search.

“The sound which came from his lips was a shriek of terror, horror, and agony combined, as might well be fancied to come from the throats of the damned souls of the nether hell. It was, indeed, a paroxysm of deadly fright. In an instant all eyes were turned toward him. He was paler than a corpse, the very image of Death itself; his eyes protruded from their sockets, and he trembled as if he stood before the final bar; his lips refused to tell the cause of his distress, but his gaze was intently fixed, with an immovable expression of horror, upon the saucer on the floor. Instinctively our eyes followed the same direction, except Vatterale’s, who still was looking toward the open sash. With this exception, I repeat, we all looked toward the floor, when, great God! what a sight was there! The saucer was still there, but the two small rolls of paper were gone! They had disappeared, but in their stead we distinctly saw—for, recollect, there were seven full jets of gas in full blaze right over our heads—we saw, I reiterate, with our eyes—physical, bodily eyes—three horrible beings, somewhat resembling overgrown scorpions—only, that instead of claws, they had—hands and arms! for all the world like those of a newly-born negro child! These detestable things, for I dare not blaspheme the Great Eternal by calling them creatures, were about five inches broad on the back, by some eighteen in length. Their color was a deep crimson, mottled with purple, green, and yellow stripes and spots, and they were completely covered with scales, like those of an armadillo. Conceive, if you can, of a tarantula or spider so large, and which—each one of them—moved about on the very tips of twelve legs, sixteen or eighteen inches long, and all the while whirling and twirling its hands and arms (two of each), eighteen inches long and three-fourths as large as its body, and you will form a tolerable picture of the repulsive, unsightly, hideous monstrosities crawling, or rather ‘stilting,’ round that saucer on the floor.

“Each one of these loathsome things had four large, protruding eyes, closely resembling those of the monster Frog of India; but these eyes, unlike the frog’s, were not leaden-hued; instead of this being the case, I think no spark of fire ever shone brighter—in fact, they fairly gleamed with what I can indicate by no other term than infernal redness; for it seemed that at every flash they emitted the concentrated venom of a gorgon; and beneath the fearful spell we all sat perfectly immovable with fear.

“What our agony would have been had the accursed things ventured to move toward us, I dare not even imagine, but they still and ever kept in the one track, moving with orderly march around that saucer on the floor. We felt and knew that they were living, actual realities, a genuine and horrid trinity of facts, and not a mere optical illusion, or the result of a play upon our fancies, mesmeric or otherwise. This opinion was confirmed by the most positive and blasting testimony, for, as they solemnly, demoniacally marched about the centre of that symbolic chart, they left a trailing streak of greenish—dead, hard, greenish ichor or pus, behind them at each revolution, and a few drops of this fell upon the Baron’s carpet. Some months afterward he and I exchanged letters on the events of that night, and he assured me that not a single chemical amongst the hundreds applied for the purpose had been of the least effect toward removing the stain. ‘The carpet has been discharged of its colors and re-dyed, yet no dye will cover those spots!’ This was not all, for on one of their rounds they nearly quitted the chart, and the Baron struck at them with his foot, whereupon one of them spirted forth a fetid liquid, which fell upon his boot, and made a mark there as if the leather had been seared with hot iron!

“‘Talk not to me of legerdemain after this! Speak not to me of optical illusion, or deceptive appearances, in the face of such facts as these, for here are marks,’ wrote the Baron to me, ‘here are palpable evidences that defy contradiction. They were made on that night, and there they yet remain, and, albeit I cry, “Out, damned spots!” they will not, but persist in remaining absolute confirmations of vivid, strange, incontrovertible facts!’

“‘But why did you not get up, under such circumstances, all of you, and escape from the room?’ is a very natural and perhaps not unreasonable question, that may without impropriety be asked just here, and I reply: For several reasons; among which a few shall be named. First, the doors were all securely locked, and although we had seen Mai mount a chair, and hang the keys to one of the glass pendants, yet upon looking there, we found that they, as well as the two rolls of paper, had disappeared. Secondly, the windows were fastened down, besides being many feet from the ground—at least fifteen—and to leap that distance was altogether out of the question, even had we thought of it, which we did not. Thirdly, the earnest and solemn warning given by Vatterale before anything took place; his assurance that if we obeyed his injunctions not to stir—that, although we might be frightened, yet no harm could or would befall us—acted, amidst all our terror, as a sort of stopper upon any precipitate movement, after the first shock was over.

“We could not quit the room provided even all the doors had been flung wide open. Hast never heard tell of the fascination of Danger? If so, then know that it was upon us in all its terrible force and power. We were bound, chained, rooted, riveted to the spot, by a potentiality never to be questioned, never to be despised, for its might, when once it fastens upon its victim, is merciless, gripping, stern and unrelenting. We felt that to stir, was to incur the hazard of an unknown, unguessed-at danger. All were fascinated by terror; to move was to add ten-fold to its power! It was a feeling akin to that experienced by the native of Ind, who roused from his mid-day slumber, wakes to feel the clammy folds of the cobra-capello, the dreadful hooded serpent of his clime, slowly writhing and winding beneath his garments about his naked flesh; and who realizes, as his heart stops beating and his blood runs icily with agony, and as the great big beaded drops of cold sweat ooze out from every pore, that to stir, to breathe, to even quiver under the pressure of his mortal fear, is certain, irrevocable, positive death—knowing as he does, that nor man nor beast hath ever yet lived a single hour after the fangs of the hooded snake have once opened a passage for the entrance of the King of Terrors!

“And such was the pall that rested upon the eighteen persons in that room, as the detestable trinity moved slowly around that saucer on the floor; their eyes—their great, horny, bulging eyes—all the while scintillating and flashing with the very essence of intense malignity—malignity as of a devil! The female portion of the company I fear may never recover from the shock that night received. They did not faint, or scream, or swoon, as perhaps it might have been suspected they would under such diabolic circumstances, simply, however, for the reason that the tension of soul and nerve was altogether too severe and great to permit, even for an instant, the reaction which is an absolute prerequisite to relief by or through the methods indicated.

“Probably the length of time that elapsed from the shriek of our comrade, till the final disappearance of the three monsters, did not exceed three minutes, yet in that brief space we had undergone years of terror.

“Truly, the real lapse of time is not to be reckoned by the beats of the clock, but only by sensations and heart-throbs. Mai, at the termination of the time specified, rose from his stool, took a small basket from his portmanteau, and then fearlessly seizing the things, one at a time, he carefully doubled up their legs under them, and placed them in it. Then taking the two crystal bottles already alluded to, he placed them lengthwise on the chart, with their necks and apertures facing each other, after which he resumed his seat upon the foot-stool, addressing no word or sign to the spectators of his movements. And now it began to grow dark! The jets of gas appeared to burn less clear and fully, just as if some one was slowly turning the cocks which let it on, with a gradual movement. In a little while the room was darkened, though not exactly dark, for there was still a dim half light—a sort of semi-blue, semi-dull red, misty radiance, just sufficient to enable us to distinguish objects vaguely, indistinct and dimly.

“‘Stir not! fear not!’ said the thick, husky voice of Vatterale; and before we could reply, a scene commenced, such as it hath seldom fallen to man’s lot to witness.

“‘Allow me to explain a modern mystery,’ said Vatterale, ‘but first let me remove your fears. Look!’

“Scarcely had he spoken these words, than the room was suddenly illuminated, as if the very air was aglow with the most brilliant light, and we saw the two bottles quite plainly. As we gazed upon these, there came from one the appearance of an enormous serpent, which proceeded to coil itself up, until its bulk thrice exceeded that of both the bottles. Then there came still another, and another, until no less than twelve lay there, coiled up in a loathsome pile; but as the last one emerged from one bottle, the first one entered the other, until all had disappeared as they had come.

“‘I will now show you that you cannot always trust your own senses,’ said Vatterale, ‘nor account for what you see;’ and he straightway emptied the basket, and broke the bottles. All three were empty! Not a sign of snake or scorpion was there!

“‘Again, I will show you a curious thing. You will please call a servant, seat her on one of those chairs, and bid her on a wager hold a skein of silk while it is being wound—merely to keep her attention—that is all. But,’ and he spoke very earnestly, ‘whatever you see or hear, I beg you will not utter a single word.’

“This was assented to; a skein of silk was ordered, but not till the gaslight had displaced the other.

“‘It will be just seventeen minutes before the girl is ready,’ said Mai; ‘and while waiting, I will demonstrate a fallacy. The creatures you have beheld to night are real, but ephemeral—they are Will-creations, and perish when the power ceases to act which called them into being. As proof of what I say, Behold!’

“From the floor in the eastern corner of the room there straightway begun to arise a light mist, which increased in bulk until a ball of vapor, three feet in diameter, floated in the air. Thus it remained for a minute; and then, right before our eyes, began to condense and change its shape, until at the end of four minutes, it had assumed a human semblance—but, Heavens! what a caricature!

“At first it was a mere vapory outline, but it rapidly condensed and consolidated, until what looked like a hideous, half-naked, bow-legged, splay-footed monster stood before us. Its height was less than three feet; its chest and body were nearly that in width; its legs were not over eight inches long; its arms were longer than its entire body; its head was gigantic; and it had no neck whatever, while from its horrible head there hung to the very ground the appearance of a tangled mass of wire-like worms. Its mouth was a fearful-looking red gash, extending to where ears should have been, but were not. Eyes, nose, cheeks, chin, lips or forehead, there were none whatever. Do not imagine that this creature was merely an appearance; it was not, for although born of vapor, in five minutes it became solid as iron, demonstrating the fact by stalking heavily across the floor right into the centre of the open space between us—the chains being dropped as it approached—where it stood, slowly swaying to and fro, as if its heart was heavy.

“‘Show your quality,’ said Mai to the thing. ‘I will,’ it hissed, and straightway proceeding toward a table, it stood by it a few minutes, and it became apparent that it was charging the wood with something from itself, for soon the table began to turn, to tip, to move, to rise and float in the air, precisely as is done in spiritual circles.

“‘Now, ladies and gentlemen, you will please act just as if that before you was a human spirit, invisible to you, and desirous of imparting information. I dare say you will be surprised at the results. You see already that it is a capital table-mover, and I beg you to test its mental and physical powers also—for I assure you there is nothing to fear, now that I give you leave to break the silence—which was quite essential in the first part of the curious experiment.’

“Thus assured, several of us asked the thing to show us what it could do. Whereupon it made motions as if it wanted to write. Paper and pencil being placed upon the table, it seized the pencil with its long claw-like fingers, and its hand flew over the page like lightning, and in ten seconds it finished, and striking the table three heavy blows with its fist, signified that it had finished; whereupon Mr. D—— reached for the sheet, and read therefrom one of the most tender messages conceivable, from a dead mother to a living son. Even the hand writing was a perfect fac-simile of his mother’s; the name—Lucy—was correct, and certain dear and peculiar phrases, used by her when alive, were given with minute precision and fidelity; as, for instance, ‘sweet one, mine,’ instead of ‘my sweet one.’ Mr. D—— turned pale. ‘Is it possible I have been so imposed upon—so horribly deceived?’ said he, for he was a devout follower of the modern thaumaturgy.

“Several further tests, equally successful and decisive, were then given by this ghostly thing, both by writing, tipping, rapping, and the production of beautiful phantom hands, faces, flowers, and other objects, many of which were not only singular but magnificent. Probably thousands of persons have seen the curious pencil drawings, executed by ‘mediums,’ and which are said to be portraits of ‘Spiritual flowers’—for most certainly they resemble nothing growing on this earth. Well, in less than five minutes the horrible thing there at the table, the eyeless monster, executed thirteen such—and they would pass current as splendid specimens of ‘Spirit art.’

“‘Now,’ said Vatterale, ‘for something else.’ And then addressing the thing, he said: ‘You will now render yourself viewless, and show what you can do. And first let us have some music.’ Then turning to the company, he said: ‘Real spirits love the light, but such as that invariably act most efficiently in the dark—for then they have the advantage of the elements condensed upon their forms—a semi-material investiture—and can come in direct contact with material substances, which, in the case of real spirits, is exceedingly difficult of accomplishment.’

“During this speech, our attention was diverted from the incarnated to the incarnator—for it must not be forgotten that the entire phenomena exhibited by this wondrous personage, were the creatures of his conscious will, brought into being and again cast out by a thought, and according to a known and transferable formula. True, there were others in whom this creative faculty existed, but then such persons either exercised the power involuntarily through the mechanical processes of mind and will, or else they are but the proxies of the LarvÆ. When he ceased speaking the monster was gone from our sight, but not from our hearing, for Mai gently waved his hand, and as he did so there came to us the softest, gentlest, sweetest, and the most soul-stirring strains of music that ever fell on human hearing. Above, below, around, now here, now there, close at hand, and then afar off, it sounded; and the only comparison I can make is, that it sounded like a solemn requiem chaunted by angels over the perished form of what was once a god—the tones were so pathetic, so solemn, so supremely sorrow-freighted—reminding one of the plaintive

only that it was ten-fold more profound, and stirred depths the other could never reach.

“This strange music was a perfect corroboration of the theory advanced by the Italian Count at the sÉance before Napoleon, already mentioned; for, allowing that the being who made it was a real and independent existence, it was impossible for such conceptions to exist in it, for the reason that none but a mighty soul could create them, and the thing itself was exceedingly, revoltingly low in the scale of organization. But, on the other hand, if the thing were the creature of Mai’s will, it was conceivable that it vocally expressed his unuttered thought, itself totally unconscious of either the music or its meaning.

“It ceased. It still remained invisible, and Mai proposed that Count de M—— should hold one end of an accordion, while the thing invisibly held and played upon the other. This was assented to, and the instrument, bottom up, was held at arm’s length, directly beneath the light. It was placed on, in masterly style, while in that position. It, as well as a guitar, harp and piano, were played on when no one was near them, and nothing to be seen; and then, at the command of the arch-magician, the whole performance was repeated by the terrific thing in its perfectly visible form.

“Presently, a knock at the door told us that the servant sent for had arrived, with the silk in her hand. She was admitted; the thing retired from view.

“‘Marie,’ said the Baron, ‘a wager is laid that one of these gentlemen cannot unwind a skein of silk which you are to hold, both of you being blindfolded. I wager that it can be done. If I win, you shall have three days to visit your family, besides something to carry to the old people and the little ones. Now, you must not laugh or speak while the silk is being wound; if you do I lose. Will you try?’

“‘Certainly,’ replied the girl; ‘and you shall see that I will not laugh. Oh, papa, maman, I shall have three days! Mon Dieu! but it is a fine thing!’ And, taking the seat offered, she suffered the silk to be placed across her wrists, and be blindfolded by the Baroness.

“This having been done, Mr. D——, at a sign from Vatterale, took the end of the cord, and began slowly to unwind it.

“‘And now begin,’ said the latter, speaking toward where the thing had disappeared. The command was heard. It came forth, touched the girl’s hand, and instantly she was thrown into a profound trance, whence another touch revived her, but not to wakeful consciousness. Instead of this, she rose, threw down the silk, approached several musical instruments in succession, and played upon them most exquisitely. The thing touched her head, and she made love in the most tender terms to three gentlemen in succession, declaring to each in turn that he was her ‘eternal affinity,’ and had been so from the foundation of the world.

“Again it touched her; and, suddenly changing her manner, she declaimed in lofty strain. Now she was Charlotte Corday, then Maximillian the Incorruptible; again, she was the Maid of Orleans, and then a simple Indian maiden. Now she was Malibran, and sung divinely; anon, she was a strong-minded woman, and talked about the Divine creative work of woman;—about love—that man had made it special when it should be general, and, therefore, free. She raved about the Bible, called it excellent soft bark; called the Saviour the Nazarene; spoke of the Deity as the Great Positive Mind; declared she was His private secretary; prated about Starnos and ’Cor, Summer Lands, Gupturion, Mornia, divorces, and how to get them; progress and humbug, milky ways, and the people of Jupiter, with a hundred other follies, but which she, unlike her exemplars, for the time believed. The scene continued for at least two hours, at the end of which time Mai dismissed the thing, and restored the girl, who was totally oblivious of all that had occurred. She received sundry pieces of gold from those present, and left the room, doubtless desiring to unwind more silk at the same rate.

“‘I will now show you something equally curious,’ said Mai, ‘and, perhaps, quite as interesting as anything you have yet beheld. Look!’

“We did so. Simultaneously, and from all parts of the room, there now arose, as from the floor, innumerable minute globules of various-colored fire—red, green, blue, purple, scarlet, gold, silver, crimson, white and violet—leaping, flashing, dancing and frisking about, as if endowed with sensuous, joyous gaiety. Apparently, there were thousands of them, all moving in disorder through the air, now lighting on the picture-frames suspended from the wall, now collecting in great masses in front of the splendid mirrors, and, anon, gliding along the floor, under our seats, through our feet, over the chairs, and about the carpet, as if in the very wantonness of sport, their every motion being accompanied by a hissing sound, in kind, though not in volume, like that emitted by an ascending rocket as it rushes through the air. Presently, they formed themselves into crowns, just such as I had seen years before, in that same Paris, float over and crown Napoleon at the behest of an Italian Count. In an instant I associated the two circumstances, and, turning to the magician, was about to speak, when, as if divining my purpose, he nodded to me, and said aloud—

“‘I told you we should meet again! Be patient—this night must pass. Accept the present I left for you at your hotel, and do not forget that we shall meet again!’ and he became silent as before, while the company scarcely knew what to make of this abrupt, and apparently meaningless speech.

“I had solved one problem. Vatterale and the Count were one and the same person; but who and what were the other two—Miakus and Ravalette?

“The fiery crowns concluded the exhibition, and at a late hour the company separated, and each sought his pillow.”

CHAPTER VI.
ARRIVAL OF THE EDITOR.

“Too excited to sleep, I threw myself upon the sofa, and turned the strange series of events over in my mind. Two things were absolutely certain, nay, three—1st, That neither Ravalette, Vatterale, nor the Italian Count, were men as are other men; 2d, that not one of the company suspected this fact; and 3d, that myself was the object, sole and alone, of these extraordinary visitations. Above and beyond all these, it was plain that my destiny was rapidly approaching a crisis, and that the Stranger (mentioned in the legend), as well as Dhoula Bel, were still influencing me for purposes which I could not divine to their full extent. I had already become a Rosicrucian, had passed through five degrees, had visited the Orient, and was about to go again, had learned many dark and solemn mysteries, been instructed in several degrees of magic, knew all about the Elixir of life, the power of will, the art of reading others’ destinies, of constructing and using magic mirrors, and how to discover mines of precious metal, and had deeply regretted that the terrible oath whereby the true Rosicrucian binds himself never to seek wealth for himself, and never to accept riches as the price of the exercise of his power, prevented me from availing myself of its advantages. I knew that on the altar of knowledge I had sacrificed all the deeper interests of my nature. I knew that my heart yearned for woman’s love—that she held one portion of my soul captive at times, but never filled it—that there was a possibility of escaping what I dreaded, could I meet and mingle with a certain soul in whose body ran no drop of Adamic blood; and I almost resolved to abandon all hope, perform the part required of me by my tempters of Belleville, the Tuilleries, and Boston, when suddenly I remembered the paper that Ravalette had placed in my hand, as also the present left for me by Vatterale, but, resolving to omit all care concerning them till morning, at length I succeeded in falling into an uneasy slumber, from which I awoke late on the following morning to find that you, my dear friend [the Editor], had just arrived from Alexandria, and had called upon me.”

CHAPTER VII.
THE GRAND SECRET?

It now devolves upon the Editor of these pages to complete the narrative of Beverly, his friend.

I had just reached Paris from Marseilles, where I had arrived a few days before, by way of Malta, from Alexandria. On reaching Paris it was my intention to rest but one night there, and then pursue my way via Rouen, in Normandy, to DiÉppe and England, and thence home to America. Like all other travellers, I desired to spend a week in Paris, but business prevented, consequently I made preparations to leave the famous city on the day following my arrival; but I resigned myself to this necessity with all the more fortitude, for the reason that by so doing I should be able to retain the company of a very pleasant gentleman, whose society I had enjoyed continually from Cairo, where we first met, to Paris, and which I might, by making no stop in the latter place, continue to enjoy all the way home, as he intended to start just so soon as he rejoined his daughter, who, for about three years had been receiving her education in Paris, and whom he was about to conduct to his home—a newly-purchased one in New York.

The history of Mr. Im Hokeis and his adventures, as related to me on our journey, are so well worth repeating that I shall give a short abstract, even at the risk of enlarging this chapter.

“I was born,” said he, “on the banks of the Caspian Sea, of the family of Hokeis—a sacred family, in whom was invested the highest order of Priesthood, and on whom devolved the care of the sacred fire, for we were Guebres, and the fire must never be extinguished, nor had it been, so say our records, for many thousand years, for Religion with us is quite a different thing from what it is among the men of Islam, India, Rome, or the West. We pride ourselves upon the purity of our faith, and its superiority to all that is professed by the children of Adam, quite as much as we do our Pedigree from Ish, the great founder of our race and a powerful pre-Adamite king and conqueror.”

I cannot now afford time to repeat the arguments by which Im Hokeis demonstrated the startling proposition that there were other people living on earth besides those who claimed Adam as their founder. All this may be found elsewhere.[9] He said that he was destined from birth to be chief priest of the Faith, and had married a woman of his tribe and rank, at the early age of seventeen. Near the time he was about being ordained, war had broken out between the Guebres and their Persian tyrants. Himself and wife were captured, taken to Herat, and there condemned to lose their eyes, from which horrible fate they were rescued by a member of the British Embassy, with whom they remained for nearly three years, by which time they had mastered the English language. While in the service of the minister, Hokeis had the good fortune to save his life, in consequence of which a friendship sprung up between them so strong, that when the Embassy returned to Britain the two Guebres went with it. Arrived in London, Hokeis received an appointment as interpreter, and soon accumulated means, after which he entered into a direct trade with Persia, and although, during the nine years in which he was engaged therein, heaven had not sent him any children, yet it had blessed him with abounding wealth.

At length, in the thirteenth year of their married life, their prayer was answered, and it became evident that God was about to send them a child. He did, and a beautiful girl was born, but the eyes of her mother were closed in death at the moment it first saw the light.

One day the nurse, who was a relative of Hokeis’ wife, was wheeling the child around the walks of Hampstead Heath, when they wandered within the precincts of a gipsy encampment, and the girl was persuaded to have her own and the child’s fortune told. The complexion and features of the twain led to remarks on their nationality, and by skillful manoeuvering the gipsy woman ascertained that the couple before her were Guebres by birth, and had been by religion. The mummery over and the fee paid, the girl went home with her charge. They were followed, and on that very night, while the nurse slept, the child was stolen. Search was made for the gang of gipsies—the abduction having been clearly traced to them, by reason of a note left behind by the robber, stating that the child would be well cared for—but in vain, for on the very next day the whole gang, thirty in number, had sailed in a packet from the London Docks, for America.

Many years rolled by, when one day, as the disconsolate father was walking in the garden of the same house whence the child was stolen, he was accosted by an old beldame, who asked him what he would pay in gold in return for information respecting his child. It is needless to narrate the successive steps taken. Suffice it that within twenty-four hours the father and the gipsy were on the ocean, going as fast as steam would carry them toward the Western World.... The child, now a regal woman, was found, and father and daughter lived with each other for a time in New York, where a fine property had been bought; for the old gentleman so liked the New World that he determined to settle there for life, after his daughter had been properly cultured in Europe, whither he soon took her, and then, after transmitting the bulk of his fortune to America, went on a final visit to his people in Persia, his friends and co-religionists in the East. I had met with him as already stated, when on his return from Egypt to France.

This brings us to the night of my arrival in Paris. It being impossible to join his child that night, Hokeis and myself drove to a hotel in the Palaise Royale, and were at the satisfactory end of a supper, when a person who was totally unknown to either of us entered the salle À manger, and, making a profound obeisance to us both, said: “Salute! I come to tell you, Im Hokeis, that you will not quit Paris to-morrow. But at the hour of four you will take your daughter to the house that is last but one on the left ascending the Boulevart de Luxembourg. You will ask me no questions, but will obey. My authority I thus give you,” and he whispered three words in the ear of Hokeis, that caused the latter to start as if he had been shot. He had received the secret countersign of the priests of fire! Then turning to me, he said, “You will go early in the morning to the Hotel Fleury. There you will find Beverly, your friend, join him; go where he goes, and quit him not for an instant for the next two days—his salvation depends upon it! Now I go. Forget not the words of the Stranger.”

I was thunderstruck. Hokeis and I talked much that night before we slept. What we spoke of is easily to be conceived.

This brings me to my next meeting with Beverly, whose fortunes we will now follow.

It will be remembered that Ravalette had given him a paper just before they parted in Belleville, and that Vatterale had also left something for him at his hotel. Bearing this in mind, observe what followed.

In a bold, strong hand was written these words in the note placed by Ravalette in the hands of Beverly when they parted in Belleville—“When you need me—when you are ready to become one of us—when you have given up all hope of ever probing the mystery of my existence and your own—then seek me in the house that is last but one on the left ascending the Boulevart de Luxembourg.—Ravalette.”

The identical direction, and almost in the very words given by the mysterious personage to Hokeis, in the hotel of the Palais Royale on the previous night. The circumstance made a great impression on my mind, but prudence forbade all mention of it to Beverly. He seemed quite glad of this opportunity of solving the strange riddle, and, to my great delight, begged and insisted that I should spend the day with him, and in the evening we would investigate the subject together; and that I readily consented, may be easily imagined. There were several motives prompting me in this affair—curiosity, friendship, and a vague hope of baffling what Beverly regarded as his doom. Those who have read carefully what has here been written, will remember that Beverly had convinced me that there was more in the strange legend, regarding the king, the princess, the riddle, the murder, and the curse and its fulfillment, than the majority of people would be willing to concede. In short, I was decidedly inclined to believe in Dhoula Bel and the other doomed one, but I had no faith whatever in either Miakus, Ravalette, the Italian Count, or Vatterale. I did not believe all these names belonged to one person, and I finally settled down on the following theory, point by point:—1st, That there was in existence a society, having its head-quarters in Paris, the members of which were practisers of Oriental magic and necromancy, in which they were most astonishingly expert. 2d, That the organization had for its object, not the attainment of wealth or political position, but abstract knowledge, and the absolute rule of the world through the action and influence of the brotherhood upon the crowned heads and officials of the world. 3d, That this association was governed by a master-mind, and that mind was Ravalette’s. 4th, That this society had cultivated mesmerism to a degree unapproachable by all the world besides. That they had exhausted ordinary clairvoyance, and eagerly sought a brain which would admit of the most thorough magnetization, and whose natural tendency was toward the mystical, transcendental and weird, yet strong, strong-willed, logical, emulative, daring and ambitious; and that, to discover such, their agents had traversed all four continents of the globe; and that finally they had heard of Beverly, whose fame as a seer was world-wide; that they had found him, and, beyond doubt, had learned the strange particulars of his life, the legend, and his hope. They had seen him, and at once decided that, under their wonderful manipulation, he could be placed in a magnetic slumber many degrees more profound than is possible in one case in five millions, and reach a degree of mental lucidity and psycho-vision that would not only surpass all that the earth had yet witnessed in that direction, from Budha, Confucius, Zoroaster, and the Oracles of Greece, down to the days of Boehme and the Swede, since when there has been no clairvoyant really worthy of the name. True, there were semi-lucides in abundance, but these either were only capable of reading or noting material objects, and, at best, repeating the thoughts of other men, or giving the contents of books as original matter, heaven-derived—as the self-styled “great (sic) American seer” gave forth the contents of a volume written by Pierpont Greeves, mixed and muddled up with a few really sublime thoughts taken from the minds of his scribe, his mesmerizer, and the highly intellectual coterie who gathered round him during his sÉances. 5th, They knew that, unless Beverly’s will accorded with their desire, it would be useless to attempt to gain their ends through him; and hence, all their efforts by playing the shining bait of magic for the purpose of inducing him to consent to anything in order to gain their power. Hence, too, their gift of the secrets of the Magic Mirror, the Elixir of Life, of Youth, of Love, and a score of others equally curious and invaluable to the student of the soul. 6th, It was clear that, while these men knew much of the Rosicrucian system, they were not in full harmony or accord with that brotherhood.

Thus I reasoned, and it was easy to account for the scenes in the Boston office and at Beverly’s home—the apparent immunity Miakus enjoyed from the effects of the fire, which burnt the chair but not his thigh, I accounted for on the ground that chemistry helped him, as it had a score of “fire-kings” beside.

Thus far, I felt that my theory covered the whole ground of this clever fraternity; but when I recurred to the scenes witnessed by no less than eighteen people at the house of the Baron, I confess, candidly, that it utterly failed. Still, I totally rejected all supernaturalism as connected with the affair, and, attributing the whole to expert trickery, I determined to lay a trap to catch the performers in the very act, and flattered myself that it would be successful. “Ho! ho! Mr. Vatterale, I’ll show you!” I exclaimed, as I shook Beverly’s hand, and leaving him, to bathe, dress, and breakfast alone, I hurried out, ostensibly to go to the post-office, but, in reality, to visit the head-quarters of the Paris Police, which I did, and, when there, briefly but clearly stated my belief that a friend of mine was being victimized in the manner stated; to all of which the chief official lent an attentive ear, caused my proces verbal to be recorded, directed me how to proceed so as not to alarm the suspected parties, and promised to have a posse on hand very close to the house on the Boulevart de Luxembourg by the hour named. On my way back to the Hotel Fleury, I dropped in to see if Hokeis was home, but found only a note, informing me that he had gone to Versailles after his daughter. I rejoined Beverly.

CHAPTER VIII.
THE BOULEVART DE LUXEMBOURG.

Impatient as I was for the hour to arrive, in which all my doubts might be forever solved, yet Beverly was still more so. No condemned man ever wished more ardently for the moment when, by the halter or the glaive, the grand secret should be revealed to him, than did my friend for that in which he should know the best or the worst for him.

Three o’clock found us within a stone’s throw of the house designated as the rendezvous, and the three or four little shingles in front of it with “Appartements À louer,” “Chambres garni,” and “Cabinets meubles,” told at once that it was one of those middle-class establishments where a person might hire rooms and live undisturbed for a whole lifetime, provided the rent was duly paid.

Into the square, paved court of this house we entered, and before the least inquiry was made, the concierge came out of his crib, saluted us respectfully, and said: “You are two of the gentlemen expected here to-day by the occupant of the second floor. Please ascend. You will find him in the first room to the left,” and the old fellow hobbled back to his nest, and instantly began pegging away at the heel of a shoe, which he was engaged in healing and heeling when we entered the court.

Following his directions, we ascended a broad, winding stairway of stone, and found ourselves on a landing. From this landing one stairway ascended, and another led to the court below. At the further end, but on the side, was a door, and at the hither end another. The house itself stood quite isolated from all others, and the windows of the rooms, it was clear, must overlook the boulevart and a lane crossing it at right angles. We entered the first door, and found ourselves in a very plainly-furnished, large, square room, having two windows at the end, two more on the side, a cupboard, recess, and two large folding doors, both standing wide open, so that, finding no person in the first room, we passed through them into the second, but still failed to see or even hear the least indication that their occupant was anywhere around. I was glad of this, for it gave opportunity for an examination of the premises; therefore calling the concierge, I asked him the name, occupation, and period of occupancy of his second-floor tenant, to which he very readily responded, by saying that his tenant was a foreign scholar named Elarettav; that he was wealthy, had lived there five years, and saw very little company, never dined or eat in the house, and in short was a very fine man, indeed—he paid two louis a month for porter’s fees! The concierge left, and I carefully remarked the place, and found the floor and ceiling was of stone, as are all French houses. The cupboard was low, narrow, and filled with wine bottles and glasses, far more like a student’s quarters than a grave philosopher’s like Ravalette, if, indeed, that personage was the same described as Elarettav by the porter. The recess was small and simple, and contained nothing but a cot bedstead and its appropriate furniture. I concluded that there was no preparation for magic, if any was intended, and as this notion passed through my mind, the clock struck four, and we heard the footsteps of a man in the other room, notwithstanding the door was not seen to open. We went to that other room, and, “Ravalette, as I live!” exclaimed Beverly; and, sure enough, there stood, calmly smiling, just such an old gentleman as I had heard described.

“You have sought, and you have found me! I hope you will profit by the finding,” said he to Beverly; “and you, sir, have done well to accompany your friend,” addressing me in a tone slightly insulting, and all the more so from being slight. It was evident that he did not relish my presence in the least, and as for me I had no sooner set eyes on my man than I felt assured of the truth of my theory, and that I stood in presence of one of the ablest intellects on earth—a man capable of all that had been attributed to him, and one who would reach his goal and carry his point at all hazards, even if in doing so it were necessary to sail through seas of human blood. I flatter myself on my ability to measure men and to circumvent deliberate villainy, and no sooner had I heard the tones of Ravalette’s voice, and seen the clear-cut features of his face, than I at once suspected some sort of foul play was on the tapis, and which I determined to thwart, even if I had to give him the solid contents of a couple of Derringers and a Colt’s revolver, which I had taken care to provide myself with before venturing into what might have been the den of unscrupulous wretches, for aught I knew to the contrary. It may be that Ravalette read my thoughts, for he certainly looked uneasy, but said nothing, for at that moment the concierge threw open the door and announced “Monsieur Hokeis et fille,” and my travelling companion and his daughter—the most voluptuous and glorious looking woman that I had ever beheld in any land, not even excepting the glowing beauties of Beyrout or Stamboul—entered the room.

Ravalette seemed to have been expecting them, and did not appear at all surprised at their uninvited presence; but the effect upon Hokeis and his daughter, the very moment they beheld his face, was perfectly electrical, yet totally dissimilar, for Hokeis instantly threw himself upon his knees before Ravalette, bent his head, and folded his hands in an attitude half supplicatory, half adoring, and said:

“Oh, dread genius of the Fire and the Flame! do I see thee here? Alas! I am a wretched man, but thou art powerful and will forgive! My defection was not my choice, but that of accident, and in the religion of Isauvi have I found more peace than ever in thy temples of the temples of Astarte!”

My brain fairly reeled beneath the tremendous rush of emotions, conflicting as a whirlwind, excited by this extraordinary scene; while, as for Beverly, his face was like an ashen cloth, his limbs were like an aspen.

The next moment these emotions underwent an entire change, for the woman, who appeared not to have taken the least notice of her father’s action or speech, went straight up to Ravalette, placed her jewelled hand upon his shoulder, looked him straight in the eye, as if she would wither and crush him at a glance, and in a voice low, but clear and deep, said: “And so, thou fiend, we meet again! Art going to essay more of thy tricks and magic spells? Art going to set more snares for the daughter of Im Hokeis? Wretch, thou art foiled again! What, tell me, what! thou fiend of Darkness, couldst thou gain by persecuting me now, as in my loneliness? What wouldst thou gain by seeing me wedded—to ‘no matter whom’—as you said, so long as I was wedded? Why have you haunted me, asleep and awake, tempting, driving me toward a marriage? What hadst thou to gain? You do not answer. Well, I will answer for you:

“Do you remember a day, long years ago, when I was a child, beyond the great salt sea, that you came to an old man’s door and craved shelter for the night? Well, I do. You were received by the generous Indian. You shared his table, his pipe, and his cider. Then, as you sat by the fire, you noticed me, and must needs tell my fortune. You did so, and truly. You said that in one month from that day I should meet a sad-hearted youth, weary, weeping, miserable, lonely; that he would engage my heart, and that I would easily be led to love and wed him; but that if I did so, black clouds would lower over us, and that our morn of love would bring a noon of dislike, an evening of sorrow, and a night of crime, ignominy and death. You said that my union with any other man would bring all that could render life desirable. I believed you, for a hundred things that you foretold came to pass. At length, three weeks of the month elapsed; and one night I had a dream, and in it I saw you, and the young man, whom in the body I had never yet beheld. In that dream you repeated all that you had said before, and then you disappeared; but your hateful presence had no sooner quit me than there came a glorious being, robed in majesty and beauty, who bade me heed you not, but to love this poor creature whose shadow was then before me—to love, but not confess it till the proper time should come;—that if I wedded another than him I might be happy, but that if I married him I would redeem a soul from a terrible fate. He bade me resist you, and to encourage the youth, cheer up his heart, and tell him not to despair, for he might be happy yet. He also”—but she had not time to say another word, for Beverly rushed forward, pushed Ravalette away, seized the woman’s hand, kissed it, and exclaimed:

“‘EvlambÉa!’

“‘Beverly!’”

And in an instant they were locked in each other’s arms.

It was indeed the friend of long-gone years, and yet I had not even suspected this fact, even after hearing the story of Im Hokeis and the gipsy adventure.

I felt that this drama was getting deeper every minute, but had not time to think of one half of what was occurring ere the door was opened by no less a personage than the Commissary of Police, followed by two of the garde de ville, while, through the open door, I saw that the stairs and landing were literally crowded with gens d’arms.

The drama was getting very serious.

Ravalette stood unmoved, and smiled, saying:

“Your trouble is in vain, monsieur! You are not wanted here, and will immediately return whither you came, while monsieur here, who engaged you to come, is at liberty to remain.”

This cool speech disconcerted the official a little, but he replied: “It is my duty to protect all who demand it for themselves or others.”

“True; but in this case no act has been committed or designed that could in the least afford just ground for such a demand. Still, as you are here, why here you may remain until you are satisfied of the truth of my remarks. Pray be seated.”

The term “intensely dramatic” would not begin to give an adequate notion of the “situation” at this particular juncture of affairs. The only person who was completely at ease was Ravalette. As for Hokeis, the brush of Michael Angelo and Raphael combined could not have done justice to his portrait, nor have limned one-hundredth part of the intense and overwhelming astonishment and horror depicted on his countenance at what he beheld and heard. No two persons looked at the affair in the same light, nor regarded the Enigma from the same point of view, neither did they comprehend each other, but all were comprehended by the great master before them.

For a while an unpleasant silence reigned, which was at length, much to my surprise, broken by my Rosicrucian friend, Beverly, who, looking Ravalette straight in the eye, said:

“Whoever you are, I forgive you for the attempt to prevent myself, a son of Adam, wedding with this woman, EvlambÉa, the Bright-shining Daughter of Ish; I forgive you for persecuting her toward a marriage with another, which marriage must have doomed me to a fate I have for centuries shrunk from; I forgive you all the woe you have caused me, because gratitude for what you have done for me exacts this; and because I suspect your agent saved my life when the retort burst in Boston, when I was repeating La BriÈre’s experiment with phosphorus. Through you, or such as you, I have learned priceless secrets. The mystery of Magic Mirrors I am grateful for being taught. The secret of ages—the art of making the Elixir of Life, whereof whosoever shall drink shall never know decay, but so long as once a year he shall quaff thereof, may enjoy perpetual youth—I am inexpressibly thankful for. I shall never use this secret for that purpose, but five of the seven ingredients, when mingled, constitute what chemistry has sought in vain; and bequeathing this portion of the formulÆ to my friend, and through him to the medical world, I shall atone for my few faults by giving life to thousands.

“Freely, without force or compulsion, I solemnly promise to sleep the sleep of Sialam before I quit this house, and in it will truly answer you all I may be able to, on condition that you previously clear up the mystery surrounding yourself; thus voluntarily giving you what an age of fraud would not enable you to obtain, you first solemnly promising, by Him by whose will you exist, be you man or demon, not to influence me, either now or when I shall slumber.”

A gleam of sudden joy flashed from the eyes of the strange being before us. He looked like a bridegroom in the fullness of his joy, and clasping both hands—pale, thin, bluish-white hands—upon his breast, he looked up and said:

“So be it! I solemnly bind myself, by the most terrible oath conceivable, that I accept all your conditions.”

Then going to the recess mentioned before, he brought thence a semi-circular screen, a little taller than a man, and about four feet in diameter. This he requested the Commissary of Police to examine, who did so, and declared it to be nothing but a common bedside screen.

“You are right! it is nothing but a bedside screen. Such as it is, however, I request you to select for it any spot you choose upon the stone floor of either of these rooms. I shall want to go behind it; and that you may not harbor a thought of an intended evasion on my part, I request that you call your men into the room and give them orders to shoot me if I attempt to pass them!”

“Just as you please, monsieur! Pierre, call the guard.”

In obedience to this summons, the corps de garde filed into the room, twenty-seven strong, and as soon as the last man entered, the officer addressed them, saying, as he pointed to Ravalette, “This gentleman thinks to escape. See to it that he does not pass you alive. The very instant that he appears unattended by myself, fire upon him. I so command you: see that my orders are executed. Does that suit you, Monsieur Ravalette?”

“Perfectly—perfectly! nothing could be better,” said the latter.

“You will place fourteen men around the house to watch the windows, and the other thirteen you will distribute on the stairs and landing,” said the commissary.

“It shall be done,” said the sergeant, as he marched his men from the chamber—but not till I had placed a double-barrelled Deringer and a Colt’s revolver, both freshly capped and loaded, in his hands—for I hated Ravalette; man or demon, I hated him religiously—that being the strongest kind of dislike—and I had an intense desire to ascertain whether he was bullet-proof or not.

During all this time, the father, daughter, lover, myself, and the commissary’s two comrades had said nothing, but at a sign from Ravalette we took our seats in such a position that we commanded the hall-door, that between the two rooms, the recess, the cupboard, and the windows on either side. The commissary placed the convex side of the screen toward us, in the middle of the room, and then taking a seat by my side, said, that so far as he was concerned, all was ready, and from the pallor of his lips, the tone in which he spoke, and from the frequency with which he crossed himself and muttered an orison, compounded of bad French and worse Latin, it was clear that he wished his hands well washed of the whole affair.

“I, too, am ready,” observed the wizard, “and I, who have nothing to conceal, declare that I am he whom yonder man—Im Hokeis, and his Guebre-tribe, have for centuries believed to be the God of Fire and of Flame. The mystery of my being cannot yet be solved. I am not alone! The mastery, over Matter and over Magic, is an inheritance of the ages. We who were once as others are, became doomed ones by reason of the curse of a dying man, and like Isaac Ahasuerus, the Hebrew of Jerusalem, who cursed and spat upon the Man of Sorrows when bearing his gibbet up the steep lane of the Dolorous Way, and whom the Meek one cursed, and bade tarry on earth till he came—even so is he not alone. Powerful in all else, not one of us can read his own future; but for that must depend on gifted ones like yonder Beverly. Such are seldom born; but when they are, there is only one opportunity to make them subservient to our aid—they must be unwedded in soul, else they cannot enter the sleep of Sialam, and in no other way can the scroll of Fate be read for us. Hence the obstacles thrown in his path and in that of yonder girl.... It is possible to shift our fate upon the neutral, whoever he may be; but in this case a strong motive existed to saddle the centuries upon yonder man, who has, in various forms, been my contemporary since ages previous to the laying of the foundations of Babylon and Nineveh.

“There is one more in being—by him I have been foiled—the Stranger—and still another—the mother of this Beverly’s body. I hoped to win him by Magic; I have failed. He has seen me thus, as I am,”—and so saying, Ravalette slowly moved around the screen, continuing to speak all the while, until he reappeared on the other corner—and saying, “and thus.” We were astonished beyond measure at the change that had, in less than twelve seconds, taken place.

Ravalette no longer stood before us, but instead, we saw a thin, lean, little, wrinkled old man, the perfect opposite in everything of the person we had just conversed with. “Miakus! as I live—the man of Portland and of Boston—the same!” exclaimed Beverly, as the figure passed once more from view behind the screen, and almost instantly reappeared in a totally dissimilar guise. “And thus!” said the wizard. “My heaven!” said Beverly, “it is Ettelavar, my mysterious guide and teacher in the kingdom of Trance and Dream!”

Again this strange being passed around the screen, saying, “and thus,” as he reappeared successively as the Italian Count and Vatterale. The wizard said, when in the last form, “Mai is but a transposition of I am; ‘Miakus’ is ‘Myself,’ Vatterale is an anagram of Ravalette, and a school-boy would have told you that Ettelavar is but Ravalette reversed—the name meaning ‘The Mysterious.’ To you, Beverly, I have been all these. Behold me now as I really am,” and he passed around the screen, and reappeared again as a little, withered old man, clothed in flaming red from head to heel.

“The Vampire, Dhoula Bel!” shrieked both Beverly and Im Hokeis in the same breath.

What passed during the next half hour, it would not be proper for me here to relate. Suffice it, that at the end of that time Beverly had fallen asleep, apparently of his own free will. What followed will be seen in the next, and concluding chapter of this work.

CHAPTER IX.
THE SLEEP OF SIALAM.

Deep was the silence, hushed were our breaths. Quick beat our hearts, tearful were our eyes, for a greater than even Death was in that room on the Boulevart de Luxembourg!

Seated in a large office-chair, his limbs stiff and cold with the damps of dissolution; his face paler than the Genius of Consumption; his heart and pulses totally moveless; his eyes wide open, and so upturned that not a speck of aught but the uncolored portions thereof were visible, was my friend. In previous years I had often seen him and hundreds of others in both the mesmeric and odyllic trance—the latter being the very common semi-comatic state into which sensitive persons often pass by the merest effort of volition, and in which they give off such high-sounding platitudes and call them philosophy transmitted direct from spirit-land to erring mortals, when the fact is, that the whole phenomena—when not simulated, which is not the case in over nine hundred and ninety cases in each thousand of its display—is but the concurrent action of a diseased body and an abnormal, unhealthy mind, and in many cases morals also, for it makes no matter how good or well-intentioned the subjects may be in the start, they are sure to yield before the accursed blast, and only the fires of hell itself can stop their mad career and turn them back to normal paths.

Not such a trance was that we now were witnessing. In the course of five minutes there came a change in the sleeper’s face, which became lighted up as if at that moment his soul beheld the ineffable glories of the great Beyond.

He spoke: “Now!”

As this one word escaped his lips, the door of the room was silently opened, and two men entered and were about taking seats, when the Commissary of Police suddenly rose, made a low obeisance, saluted one of them in military style, and exclaimed, “The Emp——”

“Silence!” said the person addressed; “all are strangers here!” And then turning to Dhoula Bel, with whom he appeared quite familiar, this person said to him, “At last?”

“At last!” echoed the latter; whereupon the two new comers helped themselves to seats.

The whole affair had gone thus far so directly opposite to all my calculations; events had taken such sudden and totally unexpected turns, that I ceased to marvel at this new game of cross-purposes, but determined to watch the results carefully, whatever they might be. Of course I expected that the new comer would now take the lead of affairs. But no; for Dhoula Bel, as I shall henceforth call him, addressed the shorter of the two intruders as follows:

“Why do you, too, seek to thwart me? Many years ago I found you a student of magic in your lonely prison, whither you had been consigned because you had failed on two occasions. I rescued you, gave you liberty, influence, power, prestige, and seated you firmly on the proudest throne on earth; I have made you famed and feared; I have humbled Britain in your name; for you I have broken the power of ages—the Papacy; for you I have severed Austria, and built a new empire on the earth. For you I have fomented the most awful war the world has ever seen, and have divided a nation of brothers into two parties, each thirsting for the other’s blood; and while you have been the silent automaton, I have prompted your speech and moved the wires that govern the world, asking nothing whatever in return, and yet you are here to thwart me who have ever been your friend. Why is this?”

“I admit—nothing. I am a man of Destiny!”

“Shall I reveal it?”

“I care not.”

“Well, I forbear; but let this sleeper tell it.”

“I am content. Interrogate him. This is the hour, and this the scene for which I long have waited. Let the oracle speak.”

“Listen to me,” said the taller of the two intruders. “Ye have both been proxies of a power beyond us all; and even as I, the Stranger, have foiled each of ye, yet my action was decreed. The drama of ages may end to-day. Not one of us can read his own future; there is but one on earth who can read it, and there is but one hour in which it may be done. That person is here; that hour has come. Not with the magnetic afflatus of puling, babbling somnambules; not with the boastful confidence of self-styled explorers of mythical Summer Lands, or imaginary spheres; but with a vision, simple, pure and accurate, shall yonder sleeper sweep the horizon of the future, and reveal it. Therefore let there be quietude and peace, while the mystic scroll is being read.”

Then turning to the slumberer, he said: “What seest thou, O Soul? Look! investigate! reveal! What seest thou concerning France and her ruler?”

“France will experience another Revolution. It will begin in Water and end in Blood and Fire! but the end will be delayed. Crown, Sceptre, Dynasty—all are swept away before the resistless tide of Political Reformation, and the last noble and priest shares the fate of the last crowned head—exile and death.”

“What of the other Nationalities?”

“Prussia, under a new rÉgime, becomes indeed a Fatherland to her people; Belgium, Holland, and other of the Germanic lands, become consolidated with empires now existing; Spain’s night draws near—her colonies, erected into Black Republics, leave her to sink in loneliness, until at last she becomes, with Rome, an integral part of the great Italian Empire; Austria becomes dismembered; Hungary and Poland coalesce and form a new power on the earth; Turkey passes into Greek hands; Syria into Russian; England loses Canada, India, Oregon and Ireland, which latter becomes a Republic; the United States, rejoined, absorbs Canada, Mexico and all British America—her Black races found an empire which will extend from her southern borders to Brazil, under the rule of a series of Presidents; China, Christianized by the Taepings, becomes a first-class power in the East, blotting out Japan and a score of lesser kingdoms; while India and Australia become respectively an Empire and a Republic; and all this within sixty-three years from the seventh decade of the century!”

“What of Religious changes? Speak! Let us know!”

“All Religious systems in the world, outside of the Christian, will gravitate toward, and finally be wholly absorbed by it; and while this is taking place, there will be a quiet revolution occurring in that system itself; Catholicism, modified and divested of certain objectionable features, will become the right wing and conservative portion of the Religion of the entire world, while the radical portion of that Church, and of all other churches, will secede, rear the standard of Free Thought, proclaim the Religion of Reason, espouse the Reformatory men and principles of the age, declare itself a Positive, Eclectic, and Progressive Faith, abjuring the doctrines of Original Sin, the Adamic, Mosaic, Hebraic Atonement theories, and everything affirmative of Miracle, Final Judgment, and a Hell. This party will be in a minority, and the left wing of the grand Religious system of the world; it will constantly receive accessions of recruits from the other and barbaric element of society; but so rapid will be the human march, that the right flank of the grand army will constantly crowd the left and occupy its ground, while the latter will as constantly move on toward new fields, as new ideas are developed and seen.”

“Now, Prophet, what of thyself?”

“Speedy death, relief from sorrow, a lot with other men, and comparative happiness—on the other side of time.”

“What of the Rosicrucian System?”

“I have already sketched it under the name of the left wing. But ere long there will arise a great man—a German—a Prussian, who will declare that system to the world, and who will be the Man of the 19th century; and yet his astonishing power and influence will not be felt until he shall be dead and the twentieth century shall reach its third decade. That man lives to-day—in obscurity—totally unknown; he is in America, but will arise to his work in Europe, and will be to the intellectual and philosophical world, what Budha was to India, Plato to Greece, Thothmes III. to Egypt, Moses to Jewry, Mahomet to Arabia, Luther to Europe, and Columbus to the New World. This German is the coming man! He will first be heard of in New York city, in connection with a small, but powerful journal that will soon see the light, and begin its work in that great Metropolis. Supposing the whole field of possible human progress and achievement to be embraced within the circle of twenty-six, then this man’s field embraces the figures 3, 8, 1, 18, 12, 5, 19; 20, 18, 9, 14, 9, 21, 19,—and his motto will be TRY! The figures are easily solvable. This man will be simple, earnest and unostentatious, but firm, steadfast and uncompromising. His resources will be millions, and he will command all the gold he needs for the great work to be accomplished. He will boldly announce the grand Doctrines of the Third and culminating Temple of the Rosie Cross; and his followers will be as the sands of the sea in number, and their principles will, in time, be as resistless as its waves. He will begin his work personally, and by agency before this great Rebellion in behalf of Human Slavery shall have been ended. Mark that!”

As the sleeping man gave utterance to these inspired prophesies, the less tall of the two strangers appeared disturbed, and almost rising to his feet with excitement, he said:

“Then this man’s career will resemble my own?”

“As fire resembles ice. This man’s career will be peaceful; his path will not be stained by one single drop of blood. No maimed men will curse, no widows weep, no orphans cry for vengeance, nor will the ignorance of the people constitute the lever of his power, nor be the instrument by means of which he will vault into a throne!”

“But I am strong!—Mexico!—Empire!—The Latin race!—The Church!—Maximilian! What can break this chain, supposing I establish the last link, as I intend to?”

“Fate! The United States will, in that case, soon find time to breathe upon France and the New Empire! That breath will settle as a cloud, but, when it rises, two dynasties will have disappeared forever!”

“Damnation!” exclaimed the questioner, and he stamped his feet and ground his teeth with rage almost demoniac.

“There will be two damned nations, if that programme is carried out,” said the sleeping man, in tones musical and calm, as if he was discussing the merits of a play rather than prophesying the fate and destinies of Empires.

For a moment there was silence. At length Ravalette spoke—

“And now my turn. What, O sleeper! what of me?”

The seer smiled blandly, stretched forth his hands toward both the tall personage and the Enigma. They went forward, grasped the sleeper’s hands in their own, and—

“The Enmity of Ages is ended!”

“It is ended!” repeated the tall one.

“It is finished! Thy work is done—and mine—and thine”—indicating Ravalette—said the seer. “Henceforward, there is rest for the weary—there is rest for thee! No longer doomed to walk the earth, we three quit it. Our paths diverge from this moment. Above our heads is a scroll, on which is written—

“Thank Heaven!” said Dhoula Bel.

“Thank Heaven!” repeated the Stranger.

“It is finished!” said Beverly, and, as he spoke, Dhoula Bel moved behind the screen, and, the very instant that he did so, there came the sharp crack of fire-arms in the hall and on the stairs, accompanied with any amount of oaths uttered in not very choice French.

Immediately, running to the door along with the Commissary of Police and one of his comrades, I demanded to know the cause of the disturbance.

“By the Holy Evangelists! I fired straight into his head, and it didn’t faze him an inch!” said the sergeant.

“And I struck him square in the middle of the head, and that didn’t harm him in the least!” said another.

“And I put two Derringer bullets and four Colt’s fair into his breast, at ten inches, and blast me if all six didn’t fly back and hit me!” exclaimed a third.

“And I’ll swear that he didn’t come through the open door, for it was fast shut, with my hand on the knob, every second of the time!” said the fourth.

“It was the devil!” said a fifth.

“Or his imp!” said the sixth.

“And I’ll swear he never passed by me on the lower stair!” observed the seventh man.

“Come hither into the room and tell us what you are driving at,” said the Commissary.

“I’m driving at nothing just now,” said the sergeant, as he came in “but I have been trying to drive some bullets through the devil! Do you remember telling me not to let a certain person go out, even if I had to shoot him to prevent it?”

“Certainly I do. Go on.”

“Well, the first thing I knew, that gentleman stood outside the door, and said, as he made faces and ran out his tongue at me, ‘I’m going out in spite of you, monsieur.’ ‘Are you, indeed?’ ‘Of course I am: just see me do it,’ said he, and he marched straight for the stairs, and four of us undertook to clinch him, and did so. Gentlemen, have you ever picked up a hot potatoe? Well, I have, and did not let it drop quicker than we four let go of that individual; only that instead of burning us, it felt for all the world like one feels at the Polytechnic when he takes hold of those infernal things with wires to them, and which discharge a quart or two of lightning into you before you can say Jack Robinson! We let go of the gentleman very quickly, and he passed two or three steps downward, all the while laughing at us, which made me furious, and I fired point-blank at him, and we all attempted to cut him down, but you might just as well have tried to kill a shadow. Messieurs, that man disappeared in the smoke of our pistols! He never passed out in visible form!”

During the sergeant’s relation I had determined to see if Dhoula Bel had really left the room, and for that purpose I carelessly walked toward the window and past the screen. There was nobody whatever behind or near it. I walked back, said nothing, but resumed the seat I had formerly occupied.

“Are you sure of what you tell us; that you are wide awake, and not dreaming?” said the Commissary.

“As certain as I am that he is not now in this room.”

“Which shows how easily people may be deceived,” said a voice from behind the screen, and instantly thereafter Dhoula Bel himself walked out into the middle of the floor—stone floor it was—and after pointing his finger scornfully at the sergeant and his men, he deliberately walked back behind the screen again.

My hair stood up with fright and horror; not so the seven brave Frenchmen; for with one accord they rushed toward the screen, exclaiming: “But we have you now, man or devil!” dashed it away with a single blow, and—

There was no one whatever behind it.

The sergeant fell as if he had been shot.

Determined to preserve myself from surprise, I steadily kept my seat and watched the Stranger and his companion. The latter rose from his chair, advanced toward Hokeis and his daughter, who had both sat silent and spell-bound during the whole of this extraordinary scene of diablerie, and spoke a few words in a low tone to them.

While this was going on, the tall Stranger passed into the other room, and within a period of twelve seconds I rose and followed, but he too had disappeared!

There was a marriage in Paris next day. A son of Adam had wedded with a daughter of Ish.

Two weeks later we carried an invalid to the baths of Switzerland. We remained there two months, then, finding that he grew worse, conveyed him back to Paris.

Three months elapsed. A funeral cortÉge wound up the paths of PÈre le Chaise. A coffin was lowered into a new-made grave. Upon its brink stood an old grey-haired man upholding and consoling a beautiful but sorrow-hearted woman—one who had but recently been a bride.

Four months passed: I was on the eve of quitting France. I went to the cemetery, and for an hour sat by a tombstone, on which was sculptured these words—

“Beverly, the Rosicrucian.

“Je renais de Mes Cendres!”

That was all!

Across the sea, I tread my native soil again. I have availed myself of the knowledge imparted by my friend.

Last night, in returning from the Rosicrucian lodge to which I have the honor to belong, I called upon a lady friend in the ——th Avenue. In her arms she held a bright and glowing child—“a boy,” said she. “Is he not beautiful? Is he not like his father?”

“Wonderfully like,” I replied. “What is its name?”

“Osiris Budh! Curious name, isn’t it?”

“Very!” I replied, as I took my leave—“very!”

CONSUMMATUM EST.