The Sorcery Club Part 24

Shiel thought it was an excellent suggestion. He saw in it an opportunity of spending yet another afternoon in Gladys's company, and asked her to go with him to an occultist the very next day. When she a.s.sented, the pleasure of it tingled through every pore of his skin.

Of course, Gladys a.s.sured herself there was no harm in her acceptance of Shiel's escort--that neither he nor she meant anything by it--that it was on her part merely a sort of an acknowledgment that he had been awfully good to her in her present predicament. Besides, if she needed further excuse, she had no reason for supposing Shiel to be in love with her--and had her father not spoken to her about it, she would not have remarked anything different in his glances, from the glances--for the time being, perhaps, earnest enough--bestowed upon her by other young men; which excuse, was, certainly, in Gladys's case, a more or less honest one.

They had some difficulty in selecting a psychometrist--so numerous were those who advertised, in an equally alluring manner--but they at length decided in favour of Madame Elvita, whose consulting rooms were in New Bond Street. When they arrived there, Madame Elvita was, of course, engaged. Shiel was delighted--it gave him an extra half-hour with Gladys. When Madame was free, she had much to tell them. First of all she spoke to them of Karmas, Kamadevas, Rupadevas, vitalized sh.e.l.ls, etheric doubles, the Nermanakaya, and afterwards solemnly announced that she must relapse into a state of clairvoyance, in order to get in touch with Tillie Toot, a certain spirit from whom she could learn all that Gladys and Shiel wanted to know. Accordingly, in the manner of most other two-guinea clairvoyants, she composed herself in a graceful and rec.u.mbent att.i.tude, made a lot of queer grimaces and still queerer noises, and spoke in a falsetto voice, which purposed to be that of Tillie Toot, once a barmaid in Edinburgh, now one of Madame's familiar spirits. And the gist of what "Tillie" told them was that Hamar & Co. derived their powers from Black Magic; and that the secrets thereof could only be learned from Madame, after a series of sittings with her--sittings for which Madame would only require a fee of fifty guineas: a most moderate, in fact quite trifling, sum, considering the wonderful instruction they would receive.

But Madame's magnanimous offer tempted neither Gladys nor Shiel; and they abruptly took their departure.

Kateroski (_nee_ Jones) in Regent Street, whom Gladys and Shiel had agreed to consult in the event of a non-successful visit to Madame Elvita in Bond Street, also told them that Black Magic was the key to Hamar, Curtis & Kelson's performances. She advised them to get on the Astral Plane, where they would meet spirits who would give them all the information they desired.

Madame Kateroski's instructions were simple. "It is really a matter of faith," she said. "All you have to do is to go to some secluded spot--the privacy of your bedroom will do admirably--sit down, close your eyes, look into your lids and concentrate hard. After a while you will no longer see your eyelids--your lids will fade away and you will be on the Astral Plane, and see strange creatures, which, although terrifying, won't harm you. When you get used to them, you will communicate with them, and learn from them all you want to know."

"Shall we try?" Gladys remarked laughingly to Shiel, as they stepped into the street. "But if faith is essential to success, I fear failure, as far as I am concerned, is a foregone conclusion. I know I shouldn't have sufficient faith."

"Nor I either," Shiel said. "But, perhaps, we could acquire a necessary amount of it, if we were to experiment together. Supposing we try in that delightfully secluded copse in your garden."

Gladys shook her head. "I'm afraid it would be useless. Besides, if my father were to hear of it, he would fear worry had turned my brain, and most likely have another fit. No, we must think of something more practical. In the meanwhile, if you will keep on with the part, you have so generously undertaken, you will be doing me an inestimable service."

"Then I'll keep on with it for ever," Shiel replied, and before she could stop him, he had kissed her hand.

CHAPTER XV

HOW HAMAR, CURTIS AND KELSON ENTERED THE ASTRAL PLANE

In order to explain the manner in which Hamar, Kelson and Curtis were initiated into their new properties, I must now go back to the day preceding the gratis performance of the Modern Sorcery Company, that is to say the last day of stage one of the compact.

To Kelson the day had been one of surprises throughout. When he arrived at the building in c.o.c.kspur Street (he preferred living alone, and, consequently, rented a handsome suite of rooms in John Street, Mayfair), he was not a little astonished to meet Lilian Rosenberg on the staircase.

"I thank you so much!" she exclaimed, shaking hands with him most effusively. "It is all owing to you I got the post."

"Then Hamar has engaged you," Kelson e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

"Why, yes! didn't you know!" Lilian said with a smile. "I had a letter from him the very evening of the day I called here."

"Did you! He never told me anything about it! How do you think you will get on?"

"Oh, splendidly! The work is interesting and full of variety.

Moreover, I like the atmosphere of the place, it is so weird. I believe the three of you really are magicians!"

"If that be so," Kelson said, "then we have only acted in accordance with our character in engaging the services of a witch--a witch who has already bewitched one member of the trio. Now please don't go to the expense of lunching out: lunch with me instead. Lunch with me every day."

"It is very kind of you," Lilian Rosenberg replied, "and I will gladly do so when I am not lunching with Mr. Hamar. But he has invited me to have all my meals with him."

"That doesn't mean you are obliged to have them with him every day!"

Kelson cried. "Lunch with me this morning."

"I am very sorry," Lilian Rosenberg replied, looking at Kelson with mock pleading eyes, "please don't scold me, but I've really promised Mr. Hamar."

"Have tea with me, then," Kelson said.

"I've promised him that, too."

"Supper then!" Kelson said, savagely.

"I'm awfully sorry, but I'm engaged all this evening, and practically every evening."

"With Mr. Hamar?" Kelson asked suspiciously.

"Oh no! my own private business," Lilian Rosenberg replied. "Do forgive me. I should so like to have been able to accept your invitation. Now I must hurry back to my work," and she gave him her hand, which Kelson held, and would have gone on holding all the morning, had he not heard Hamar's well-known tread ascending the stairs.

"Look here!" he said, as they entered his room together, "I want Miss Rosenberg to have luncheon with me one day this week, and she tells me you have already invited her. Let her come with me to-morrow."

"It is impossible," Hamar said. "Now I'll tell you what it is, Matt, I antic.i.p.ated this the moment I saw you two together, and its got to stop. You would genuinely fall in love with that girl--or as a matter of fact any other pretty girl--if you saw much of her--and love, I tell you, would be absolutely disastrous to our interests. You must let her alone--absolutely alone, I tell you. I have given her strict orders she is to confine herself to her work, and to me."

"I think you take a great deal too much on yourself. I shall see just as much of Miss Rosenberg, when she is disengaged, as I please."

"Then she never shall be disengaged. But come, do be sane and put some restraint on this mad infatuation of yours for pretty faces. Can't you keep it in check anyhow for two years--till after the term of the compact has expired! Then you will be free to indulge in it, to your heart's content. For Heaven's sake, be guided by me. Harmony between us must be kept at all costs. Don't you understand?"

"Oh, yes! I understand all right," Kelson said, "and I'll try. But it's very hard--and I really don't see there would be any danger in my taking her out occasionally."

"Well, I do," Hamar replied, "and there's an end. To turn to something that may spell business. Just before I got up this morning I saw a striped figure bending over me!"

"A striped figure?"

"Yes! A cylindrical figure, about seven feet high, without any visible limbs; but which gave me the impression it had limbs--of a sort--if it cared to show them."

"You were frightened?"

"Naturally! So would you have been. It didn't speak, but in some indefinable manner it conveyed to me the purport of its visit.

To-night, at twelve o'clock, we are to go to the house of a Hindu, called Karaver, in Berners Street, where we shall be initiated into the second stage of our compact."

"I hope to goodness we shan't see any spectral trees or striped figures--I've had enough of them," Kelson said.

"Then take care you don't do anything that might lead to the breaking of the compact," Hamar retorted, "otherwise you'll see something far worse."

Shortly before midnight, Hamar, Curtis and Kelson, obeying the injunctions Hamar had received, set off to Berners Street, where they had little difficulty in finding Karaver's house.

To their astonishment Karaver was expecting them.

"How did you know we were coming," Curtis asked.

"A gentleman called here early this morning and told me," Karaver explained. "He said three friends of his particularly wished to be on the Astral Plane, at twelve o'clock this evening, and that they would each pay me a hundred guineas, if I would show them how to get there.

I demurred. The secrets that have come down to me through generations of my Cashmere ancestors, I tell only to a chosen few--those born under the sign of Dejellum Brava.

"The stranger showing me the sign--written plainer than I have ever seen it--in the palm of his hand, I at once consented, and I had no sooner done so than he vanished. I knew then that I had been speaking to an Elemental--a spirit of my native mountains."

"My nerves are not in a condition to stand much. Is there anything very alarming in this astral business?" Kelson asked.