All this seemed to profoundly impress the people in the court, on whose upturned faces the many lights of the stage were strongly shining. They gazed at the astrologer with open mouths: they seemed awe-struck at his fiery words and majestic bearing. He glanced from there to Aleph—was it to see whether the same effect had been produced on him? At all events he saw none. A perfect composure reigned in the face and attitude of the young man. Simon was both disconcerted and angry—as was plain enough to the sharp young eyes that never left him.
“I have no doubt,” cried he, after an evident effort to recover himself, “that nearly all my friends under the piazza are more respectful to the Celestial Science than the one whose danger and misfortunes have just been revealed to me. But, as time presses, I will not ask them to apply for horoscopes to-night. Let them come to me as privately as they choose at my rooms here for the next few days; and it will be strange as well as pitiful if the book of the stars does not read more pleasantly for them than it has done for one this evening.”
He made a sign to the Nubians. They hastened to fan the coals in the brazier; and, when the cauldron had begun to seethe again, he approached and dropped in something that made the contents hiss and leap as if they would burst away from the vessel. He then drew from under his mantle a sheet of papyrus covered with writing, dipped the manuscript into the cauldron, lighted it at the coals, waved it toward the four points till it was wholly consumed.
He made another sign to Helena. She went to one of the looped-up curtains and drew from a fold in it with an air of profound reverence—a wand. This, with averted eyes, she brought to Simon: then sank on her knees and covered her eyes with her hand. Whereupon the blacks came up hastily and crouched behind her with all the signs of abject fear. Dipping the end of the wand in the cauldron, the magician proceeded to describe with it a large circle about them all. Dipping again, he traced just within the circle and all around it a variety of characters—allowing no break, however small, in the continuity of the tracing. The lines became gradually luminous—first the circumference of the circle, then the endless chain of mystic characters within.
“The Ephesian Letters,” whispered Cimon to Aleph.
There was an intense hush of fearful expectation.
“I am now about,” the magician cried in his gravest tones, “to summon here mighty genii and elemental spirits, both to show you the resources of my art, and to convince as many of you as need convincing (and the number of such persons is not small in these days) of the reality of a world of invisible beings possessing great powers. Many of these spirits are exceedingly mischievous as well as mighty, and would be glad to destroy us all. But they dare not cross this circle, and especially the characters traced just within it—though they would do so if they could find the least break in the lines. I am also able to protect those of you without this circle—provided certain conditions are complied with. All seats under the piazza must be set forward from the wall so as to allow free passage behind them for the spirits: and in addition every one must remain quietly in his place, whatever may happen or seem to be happening, till I dismiss you. To all complying with these conditions and keeping a reverent attitude of mind toward the spirits, I can promise entire safety. To others I can promise nothing. Solomon himself could promise nothing. I wish all of you to distinctly understand that I will not be responsible for even the lives of any who violate these conditions. I warn you that we are about to deal with very dangerous beings, and that I can only control them under certain provisos. If any man is disposed to defy these let him look to himself.”
Both Cimon and Aleph had for some time noticed that the single lighted lamp that hung just before them was getting dimmer; and so were not surprised when it flickered and expired while the magician was speaking.
The man was now looking at his best. He seemed to have reserved himself for this time. His commanding stature, his powerful and oracular face, and his stately bearing enriched by the mysterious and becoming robes of his art, shone out very impressively under the brilliant lights of the stage. He stood in the centre of his magical circle, with his wand in his hand. He cast the wand on the floor. Lo, a serpent, gliding along with erect and hissing head till it came to the luminous belt of Ephesian Letters! There it stopped; and then moved along the belt slowly, without touching it, as if looking for some break in it, till it reached the point whence it started. Then with depressed head it moved back silently to Simon, who took it by the tail, and lo, he had again a wand in his hand.
He extended it toward the East and called out with a great voice in that direction certain uncouth names, saying: