ours, Malus would be liable to refund the value of the missing goods
according to the prices ruling at the times they were received, and to
add to this a considerable sum on nearly every one of the many other lots
consigned to him for thirty years on account of false statements as to
the duties imposed and the prices current—in regard to both of which you
have gained sufficient information. Have you estimated what the whole
indebtedness amounts to?”
“Not closely; but it must amount to an immense sum. And then, if Malus
should incidentally be convicted of smuggling, half of the large sum
forfeited by the Roman law would fall to the party establishing the fact.
If the courts are equitable our success means the ruin of Malus (or what
he would consider such)—especially as it would bring upon him the claims
of many other persons whom he has wronged, but who hitherto have been
afraid to contend with him. Of course a man with so much at stake must be
expected to make great efforts to secure himself; and such a man as Malus
will stop at nothing, however criminal, that promises to help him. By
this time, no doubt, he is wide awake.”
“Do you suppose,” inquired Aleph after a moment’s silence, “that the
exhibition this evening is inspired by him and covers some designs
against us?”
“I fear so,” said Cimon, moving uneasily, “though I do not see clearly
how it can be made to serve his purpose. I would that we and our
belongings were well in the Serapeum. But it is now too late in the day
to make a change: all that we can do is to be wary while remaining for
the night at the khan.”
“I should have some scruples about being present at a professedly magical
exhibition if it were not practically involuntary. But, since we have
no choice in the matter, we may at least get the advantage of noticing
the contrast between the miracles of Jesus as they have been reported to
us and the marvels of the most famous magician of our time—for such I
understand he is considered.”
“Try to imagine some advantage to his cousin Malus in this movement,”
suggested Cimon.
“Is it not supposable that Malus is very superstitious (as I believe such
men are apt to be) and has great confidence in the magic art, and hopes
to weave about us some hindering if not destructive spell, enlisting
against us demoniacal forces? Perhaps, too, he proposes to frighten us
from our purpose by astrological and other predictions of impending evil:
also will seek to enlarge his knowledge of us by asking for the facts
needed for constructing a horoscope.”
“That will do very well for a guess,” said Cimon. “And since we are
guessing I will make a small contribution. Perhaps the darkness which is
sure to accompany the exhibition at some stage will be used for an attack
on us bodily. This can be imputed to spirits. If I should see among the
spectators any persons with villainous and cut-throat faces, I should
feel called on to be on the watch.”
During this conversation their simple meal had been brought and
dispatched (not without an audible thanksgiving); and Cimon now proposed
that they should at once return to the khan and acquaint themselves with
their new surroundings somewhat in advance of the evening’s performance.
The sun was about setting, and many people were already collected about
the gate, reading the large poster that hung upon it and comparing views
and expectations, when our friends came up. They were at once admitted as
being guests of the establishment.
They found a platform erected in the middle of the court, and closely
drawn about by curtains on which were various cabalistic characters.
From within issued a smoke, an odor as of strange drugs, a hissing sound
as of boiling, faint flashes of light, and various sounds as of people
moving about and arranging. Around the stage, at a small distance,
hurdles had been set up—also about the piazza. The only break in these
two lines of hurdles was opposite the room which Cimon and Aleph
occupied. Here were two gates giving access from the stage to the piazza
by means of a flight of steps from the former.
“What does this mean?” thought our two friends. “Did it _happen_ so?”
In passing to their room along the piazza they found benches, each of
which could seat four persons, standing before each room, but set forward
so as to allow free passage behind them. Before their own door, however,
stood only a single short bench seating only two persons. Right before
this seat, under the eaves of the piazza, hung a single lighted lamp—the
only lamp visible anywhere.
“And what does all this mean?” thought our friends. “Does it mean honor
to us as the guests of the house or to make us easier marks for the
archer?”
Without stopping to answer such questions they unlocked their door;
and, entering, held their usual evening devotions with no appearance
of distraction or hurry. When they came out, staff in hand, and took
seats on the bench before the door, they found that the shadows had
considerably deepened, and the signs of activity within the curtained
stage had considerably increased. As yet no spectators had been admitted.
Soon, however, people began to enter the court: then, after a while,
the piazza began to be occupied. Our friends watched narrowly every
successive arrival as long as the deepening shadows allowed; but it soon
became impossible to form any idea of faces and figures. But they were
very many—so many at last that there seemed to be no more standing room
in the court, nor sitting room under the piazza. The seats nearest them,
on the right and left, somehow came to be occupied last, and though Aleph
bent specially on them his young searching eyes, the light had become
too dim to be of service. He then noticed for the first time that the
lamp before him had protruding sides that fended off the rays to the
right and left. Himself and companion would have the sole benefit of the
illumination. Would it be a benefit?
A bell tinkled. Up went the stage curtains. In the midst of a blaze of
light stood a man of unusual stature. His beard was long and black, and
long black locks hung below the close-fitting black cap. A long black
mantle covered with geometrical and other figures hung gracefully from
his shoulders. Supreme confidence in his own powers and position breathed
in his whole attitude and expression. His air was that of an acknowledged
sage. He stood motionless for a few moments as if to allow the people a
full opportunity to see what a dignified and promising person was before
them. He then turned quietly and took a cool survey of the packed court
and of the piazza beyond as if to acquaint himself with the situation—to
see how many persons and what sort of persons made up his audience. His
survey ended with his confronting Cimon and Aleph for a moment.
A little back of this remarkable figure stood another scarcely less
noticeable—a beautiful woman richly, though scantily, dressed, in the
Greek fashion. Behind her, at the two corners of the platform, stood two
Nubians, black as midnight, who could scarcely be said to be dressed at
all. Between these latter stood a table on which was a seething cauldron
over a brazier of live coals—also a large shallow dish. Two stools and a
number of tools were under the table.
Simon turned and bowed low to Helena—for that was the Aspasia-like woman
near him. Then, turning to the people:
“I always make it a point,” said he, “to begin with acknowledging my
obligations to my sister, to whom I am indebted for much of my success.”
He then added, “I wish it to be distinctly understood at the outset
that a part of what I shall do this evening is only skillful illusion;
another part will be done simply by means of my acquaintance with the
more mysterious laws and forces of Nature; a third part will be done by
the help of powerful spirits whom I have subjected, to a certain extent,
by my art, but who do not belong to that class of spirits with whom
intercourse is forbidden.”
He at once began to draw a ribbon from his mouth. He drew and
drew—apparently there was no end to the stock of ribbons within him. At
last, with a gesture of impatience, he broke off the endless thing at
his lips, and gulped down the remainder. He then went to the brazier of
glowing coals and proceeded to eat them as so much fruit—to eat with
excellent appetite.
Suddenly turning from this feast, he took up the large dish on the table
and poured out from it a quantity of sand on the platform. He completely
reversed the dish and shook it. He then replaced the sand, inserted in
it a small seed, spread his two hands over the dish, and waited for what
might happen. What happened was a little olive tree—as everybody could
see as soon as Simon had removed his hands and held up the dish for
general view. He then set down the dish on the floor, covered it for a
moment with a corner of his mantle, and then held it up to view again.
Lo, the little olive of a few inches had doubled its size. Once more
he covered it from view. On removing his robe, he showed to the people
a plant so large that its roots had crowded out all the sand from the
vessel and protruded from it on all sides. Using another corner of the
mantle, he reversed the process. The great plant dwindled by successive
stages into the original seed which was held up for the people to see.
Taking the same dish, shaking the sand out of it, even taking the pains
to wipe it vigorously with one corner of his robe, he reversed it on the
floor. Muttering a few words over it, he lifted it and a cat appeared. He
replaced the dish over the cat; after a moment lifted again, and behold,
a dog instead of a cat. Replacing the dish over the dog, and after a
moment lifting it again, he astonished the people with the sight of a
litter of puppies. Reversing the process, he produced in succession the
dog, the cat, and the empty dish.
He concluded this part of the entertainment by drawing a sword from under
his mantle and swallowing it.
Next, Simon seated himself at the table, and laid the tips of his fingers
upon it. Helena set a seat by his side and did the same. The two Nubians
came forward, and, having removed the brazier, seated themselves on
the table itself. In a few moments it began to tip, and finally fell
to swaying and leaping so violently that the blacks were unable to keep
their seats, though they struggled hard to do so. Having dislodged the
two bulky fellows, the table rose several feet into the air and remained
suspended; and the brazier with its cauldron rose gently after it and
resumed its old place without any disturbance of their contents—and all
the while raps and musical sounds both over and under the table were
heard. The Nubians caught hold of the legs of the table and tried with
all their might to pull it down; whereupon it rose still higher, dragging
the men after it. Simon made a downward pass with his hand, and at once
it descended gently and noiselessly to the floor.
Again Helena seated herself. Simon approached, took hold of both her
hands, and looked steadily into her eyes. Shortly, relinquishing her
hands, he made passes downward along her arms. Gradually her eyelids drew
together and she slept.
“Now tell us what you see,” said Simon.
“I see,” said she, slowly, and as if looking afar, “a beautiful country
of mountains and green valleys and crystal streams, sprinkled with flocks
and herds and white-faced keepers.”
“Look again. What do you see now?” continued the magician.
“I see,” replied Helena, “a magnificent palace perched on an eminence.
It is of stone; and it has around it walls and towers; and into its
court-yard is now coming a caravan dusty and wayworn—loaded horses and
mules and camels; and, escorting them, many armed horsemen before and
behind.”
“Enter the palace. What see you now?” continued the soothsayer.
“I see steps of marble, doors of brass, a lofty hall with sculptures and
suits of armor, sumptuous apartments after apartments—a library in which
are four persons; two sitting on a couch, and two standing before them.
The first two are a man and woman venerable with white locks, but with no
other signs of great age: the other two, also a man and woman, are much
younger and still in the fullness of mature life. All are of princely
features and bearing.”
“What are they doing?” demanded Simon.
“The younger couple are untying tablets bound about with a black ribbon.
They are now reading—plainly with surprise and grief.”
“Approach and read with them,” said Simon.
“I cannot read. The characters are strange. Besides, tears have fallen
copiously on them,” said the woman.
Simon reversed his passes, and the woman, giving a great sigh, opened her
eyes.
He then came forward to the edge of the stage next to our friends.
“We come now,” said he, “to something very important. It has been known
from remotest times that it is possible to determine from the stars the
general character of a man’s fortunes, the critical times in his life,
the sort of dangers to which he will be most exposed. Becoming acquainted
with these, he can take precautions accordingly. For example, if one
finds that to-morrow will be a time of special peril to him, and that the
peril will come from a city, he can leave the city at once and so secure
himself. So it is very important that each one of you inform himself in
advance all about these critical and dangerous times that are sure to
come to him. Do not neglect this opportunity of consulting the stars. It
is the opportunity of a life-time. For the very small consideration of
only one gold stater he can have the benefit of my profound studies among
the stars, studies which I can assure you have been profounder and more
successful than those of any other man, not excepting Hermes Trismegistus
himself. All you have to do is to hand me the piece of gold, together
with the exact time and place of your birth, and I will construct the
twelve Heavenly Houses, and find the places of the planets therein, and
take account of their mutual bearings and modifications, and so make out
for you a horoscope that will tell you just what is to be done in every
trying situation as long as you live. And you will live twice as long
for it. Now, who will, at the trifling expense I have mentioned, protect
himself from great harm and secure to himself wonderful advantages?”
He folded his arms and waited. But no one responded. Either there was
not sufficient faith in the people, or they had already invested in
horoscopes, or the gold piece required was wanting. The astrologer
expressed surprise at this backwardness to seize the splendid opportunity
they were having for having their fortunes told by the truth-telling
stars through their most illustrious interpreter. It was a great
mistake. They would surely regret it. He was only passing through the
city on his way to Rome at the invitation of the Emperor Tiberius, and
when he should return, if ever, it was impossible to say. What was the
difficulty? Was it the ready money demanded? Well, he would make it easy
for poor people. They might pay him on delivery of the horoscope and its
interpretation. Let them hand in their names and the facts called for,
and he would trust them.
This brought out the people in the court. Not a few signified their
readiness to accept the new offer; and the Nubians, passing along the
inner hurdles with papyrus and stylus, soon collected quite a catalogue
of names and appropriate particulars. This seemed very satisfactory to
Simon.
He then looked off toward the piazza from whose seats no response to his
appeal had yet come. He was now ready to attend to them. It was kind in
them to wait till the less favored class had been cared for. Now let the
piazza speak. Though they did not belong to the impecunious class, he
would make no distinction between the rich and poor, but would serve all
on the same terms. And he walked about the edge of the platform on all
sides with one hand behind his ear.
“Your voices are too feeble,” he at length exclaimed; “I must get
nearer,” and he descended from the stage by the flight of steps in front
of Cimon and Aleph, opened the wicket and stepped on the piazza.
“Perhaps these friends, one of whom seems to me to have come from the
native land of astrology and may therefore be presumed to know how potent
in human affairs the stars are, will allow me to construct figures for
them. Somehow I feel a presentiment as I stand near this young man (and
I have never known such presentiments deceive me), that he is entering
a critical period in his fortunes, and will need all the light my art
can throw on the character of the perils surrounding him and the way of
escape. If he will tell me the exact date and place of his birth, I can
in a few moments, by means of a great improvement on old methods, make
for him a planetary construction that will cover the next few days and be
of immense service to him. I trust he believes in the Chaldean science?”
“At present I express neither assent nor dissent,” said Aleph; “I only
say that I have no occasion for your art. If perils come I propose to
seek help, not from the stars, but from beyond them.”
This was said in so decisive a tone as to forbid further solicitation.
Simon merely added in a voice which plainly betrayed resentment, “Perhaps
the young man is aware that the stars are apt to be hostile to those who
distinctly refuse them. I foresee that they will be hostile to him.” And,
swaying his long loose mantle against the knees of Aleph as he turned, he
stalked back to his place on the platform.
There, folding his arms and looking upward intently as if carefully
perusing the sky at different points, he remained silent for a while.
He then suddenly exclaimed in a voice of thunder, “Oh, the angry
aspects! Oh, the threatening configurations! Oh, the malignant Saturn
in Aries shooting his rays aslant yonder!”—and he pointed his finger
toward the part of the piazza which he had just left. He then turned to
the people and said with a voice that seemed oppressed by some mighty
burden, “You have just heard me say that sometimes when I am very near
a person, and especially if my robe touches him, there comes upon me a
presentiment in regard to him which is, in a measure, a substitute for a
horoscope—especially if at once followed by such a consultation of the
heavens as I have just now given.”
“Tell us what you have discovered,” cried a voice from the court.
“I see,” he cried, “his enterprise miscarrying, his friends forsaking
him, his enemies surrounding him. Flight alone will save him. And let him
not linger. The black cloud has settled till it touches him—let him rush
from under it. The walls of the house have crept together till they press
him on every side—let him leap forth before it is too late. The walls of
the city have crowded in upon him till the four gates almost meet one
another—let him struggle through this or that as best he can, and flee,
_flee_. Flee on the swift Bactrian dromedary, flee on the swift galley
with sails and oars, flee as does the ostrich before the Arabian with
both feet and wings, flee as do the sands of the desert before the hot
Simoom. Else the Chaldean home will wail for the son that never returns.”
This he said with the air of a prophet—his tall form strained to the
utmost, his hands lifted, and his voice urgent and full of horror. He
retained his tragic attitude and aspect for a little after he had ceased
speaking. Meanwhile Helena had stolen up to him, and stood looking
skyward as if trying to see what he saw. Suddenly he grasped her arm with
one hand and with the other pointed with anxious look toward various
parts of the sky: all the while speaking to her in a low voice, as if
explaining what they saw. He had an apt scholar. She gave frequent nods
of assent, and finally clasped and wrung her hands with as dismayed an
air as his own.
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.