“ ‘Huhm, meleagar malooshe,Huhm meleagar, ma-looshe,’
“ ‘Huhm, meleagar malooshe,Huhm meleagar, ma-looshe,’
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 shallmeet 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.”
“Tooexcited 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.”
Itnow 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 wayviaRouen, 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 fromIsh, 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 therewereother 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 manœuvering 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 thesalle 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 ofthe 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 inthe 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 myproces verbalto be recorded, directed me how to proceed so as not to alarm the suspected parties, and promised to have aposseon 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.
FOOTNOTE:[9]The argument proving the existence of the human race thousands of years anterior to the date of Adam, may be found in “Pre-Adamite Man.” By Griffin Lee. New York. S. Tousey. 1863.
FOOTNOTE:
[9]The argument proving the existence of the human race thousands of years anterior to the date of Adam, may be found in “Pre-Adamite Man.” By Griffin Lee. New York. S. Tousey. 1863.
[9]The argument proving the existence of the human race thousands of years anterior to the date of Adam, may be found in “Pre-Adamite Man.” By Griffin Lee. New York. S. Tousey. 1863.
Impatientas 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, theconciergecame 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 theconcierge, 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! Theconciergeleft, 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 theconciergethrew 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 thatifI 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 thegarde de ville, while, through the open door, I saw that the stairs and landing were literally crowded withgens 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! itisnothing 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 toshoot meif I attempt to pass them!”
“Just as you please, monsieur! Pierre, call the guard.”
In obedience to this summons, thecorps de gardefiled 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.
Deepwas 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 newrégime, 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 betheMan 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 theThird and culminatingTemple 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 agencybeforethis 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,twodynasties will have disappearedforever!”
“Damnation!” exclaimed the questioner, and he stamped his feet and ground his teeth with rage almost demoniac.
“There will betwodamned 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—