“HOUSE OF MAGIC AND DIVINATION.”
Entering, they found themselves in the spacious atrium, where each visitor waited his turn, and made his choice as to which of the divers inner mysteries he would consult. Out of this large reception-room many portals opened which penetrated to unknown interiors of enchantment and sorcery. The peculiar class to which each belonged was indicated by occult emblems or cabalistic signs inscribed upon the various oval valves that opened farther inward. An attending magician interpreted them. One led to a wizard’s cave of spells and incantations; another to realms where converse with shades was held; another to oracular answers and predictions; another to charms for healing; another to the furnishing of love philters; and finally, one was given to curses and horrors.
Leander chose the last named. His hatred towards Marcius flashed up as he saw the symbols, and he would know the mystery, and perchance an instrument for enmity.
“I fear neither gods nor men!” he exclaimed; “and I will acquaint myself with the worst.”
His friends sought enchantments of the milder forms.
He was in an impatient mood, but had not long to wait when the curious valve leading to the department last named swung open of its own accord, and a hoarse voice from within, though seemingly very distant, cried,—
“ENTER THOU THE MYSTIC SHRINE!”
He passed in, and the valve closed behind him. He found himself in a dimly lighted, narrow passage-way, which he followed, that led under ground in mazy, sinuous fashion, seemingly without end. He smiled at the [pg 361]slight weird feeling which stole upon him, but pushed on. He feared nothing, for he believed nothing. There were no such things as visions, spectres, or shades. He had come for amusement—or rather, if possible, to find a way of revenge.
At length the passage widened into a cave of indefinite dimensions. It was but dimly lighted by a small fire in a recess of jagged rocks. The walls of the cave in other directions seemed to be composed of an indefinable mist of unknown depth, upon which flashed a dim tremulous phosphorescence. Over the fire was suspended a caldron, the contents of which seethed and bubbled, emitting a pungent vapor that wreathed itself overhead in illy defined forms that seemed to crawl and leap. Upon a shelf suspended in mid-air without visible support, an assortment of tiny phials containing various colored liquids gleamed with an unearthly light, and near by hung small bundles of dried herbs and roots. Upon a rough iron tripod stood a grotesque statue of the Hecate, through whose eyes shone a dull red light, as if they were heated by an inner flame. Several skeletons and many more skulls were arranged at different angles, the eyes of which remained in their places, shining with a red light of their own. Leander was the cynosure of them all.
He looked about him for a moment, taking in the various details, and then burst into loud laughter.