The fourth temple was a Rosicrucian Sanctuary, having an open sepulchre, from which blue flames continually emanated; there was a platform in the midst of the temple designed for the accommodation of more Indian Vestals, one of whom it was proposed should evaporate into thin air, after which a fakir would be transformed before the company into a living mummy and be interred for a space of three years. The fakir introduced his performance by suspension in mid-air.
The fifth temple was consecrated to the Pelican.
The sixth temple was that of the Future and was devoted to divinations, the oracles being given by a Vestal in a hypnotic condition, seated over a burning brazier.
The assembly now thoughtfully repaired to the seventh temple, which, being sacred to Fire, was equipped with a vast central furnace surmounted by a chimney and containing a gigantic statue of Baphomet; in spite of the intolerable heat pervading the entire chamber, this idol contrived to preserve its outlines and to glow without pulverizing. A ceremony of an impressive nature occurred in this apartment; a wild cat, which strayed in through the open window, was regarded as the appearance of a soul in transmigration, and in spite of its piteous protests, was passed through the fire to Baal.
And now the crowning function, the Magnum Opus of the mystery, must take place in the Sheol of Dappah; a long procession filed from the mountain temples to the charnel-house of the open plain; the night was dark, the moon had vanished in dismay, black clouds scudded across the heavens, a feverish rain fell slowly at intervals, and the ground was dimly lighted by the phosphorescence of the general putrefaction. The Adepts stumbled over dead bodies, disturbing rats and vultures, and proceeded to the formation of the magic chain, sitting in a vast circle, every Adept embracing his particular corpse.
Well? asked Peter, closing the book. Well?
Kolossal! I shouted, in German.
Isn't it, and there's ever so much more, wonderful stories, incantations and evocations in the works of Arthur Waite, Moncure Daniel Conway, Alfred Maury, J. Collin de Plancy, François Lenormant, Alphonse Gallais, the Abbé de Montfaucon de Villars, J.G. Bourgeat, and William Godwin. Have you ever heard of The Black Pullet or The Queen of The Hairy Flies?
This time, Carl; he spoke with great intensity and earnestness, I am on the right track. I am convinced that to give a work of this character a proper background one must know a great deal more than one tells. That, in fact, is the secret of all fine literature, the secret of all great art, that it conceals and suggests. The edges, of course, are rounded: it is not a rough and obvious concealment. You cannot begin not to tell until you know more than you are willing to impart. These books have given me a good deal, but I must go farther—as I am convinced that Machen has gone farther. I am going through with it ... all through with it, searching out the secrets of life and death, a few of which I have discovered already, but I have yet to make the great test. And when I know what I shall find out, I shall begin to write ... but I shall tell nothing.
Peter was flaming with enthusiasm again. It wasn't necessary for me to speak. He required an audience, not an interlocutor.