"All is prepared," said Bischofswerder, who had been examining the retorts closely. "It seems the Invisibles are concocting a secret mixture. But my eyes are blinded, and my brain is still in darkness; these substances and elixirs are unknown to me; I only feel that their fragrance fills me with wondrous delight. Oh, come, your majesty, and inhale this blessed aroma--this atmosphere of invisible worlds!" The king timidly stepped up close to the furnace, and inclined his head over the retort pointed out by Bischofswerder. Dense vapors arose from the bubbling mass and enveloped the king's head. "It is true," said the king, inhaling deep draughts of the vapor. "It creates a wondrous sensation of delight and ecstasy!" "It is the fragrance of the spirit-world," said Wöllner, impressively.--"Oh, I feel, I know that my prayers have been heard. They are coming! Lo, the Invisibles are approaching! Look, my king, look up there!" The king turned eagerly to Wöllner, whose right arm was raised, and pointed to the opposite wall. "See, see these heavenly forms waving their hands and greeting us!" "I see nothing," murmured the king, sadly. "The visions which bless the eye of the anointed are invisible to me. I see nothing!" No, the king saw nothing! To him the chamber was empty. He saw no spirits, nor did he see Bischofswerder throw a handful of white powder into the large retort at this moment. But he saw the white clouds which now ascended from the furnace; he saw the flames which burst forth from the retorts, and, in the explosions and detonations which ensued, he heard the roar of invisible musketry. "The Invisibles are contending fiercely," exclaimed Wöllner. "The good and bad spirits are warring with each other, and struggling for the possession of our noble king. The holy ones and the Rosicrucians are battling with the freethinkers and scoffers, and the so-called enlightened. Give the former the victory, Almighty God! Incline Thyself to the believers and Rosicrucians, and deal out destruction to the unbelievers and scoffers! On my knees I entreat thee, Thou Ruler of all things! have pity on the king, have pity on us, and--" A loud and fearful detonation--a whistling, howling roar--drowned his voice. Dense white clouds, through which tongues of flame darted in every direction, ascended from the furnace and gradually filled the room. The king had staggered back, and would have fallen to the ground, but for Bischofswerder, who had supported him and conducted him to an arm-chair, into which he sank back helplessly. His eyes closed, and for a few moments he was in an unconscious condition. Suddenly the king's name resounded in his ear and aroused him from this trance. "Awake, Frederick William, awake! Ours is the victory! The holy cross of love and of roses is victorious! The evil spirits have flown! Awake, Frederick William, awake! The Invisibles are ready to answer your questions!"