According to the _Mémoires Authentiques pour servir à l’Histoire du Comte de Cagliostro_, published in 1785, he demanded an audience with this man of inscrutable mystery, in order that he might prostrate himself before the _dieu des croyants_. With characteristic eccentricity the Count de St Germain appointed two in the morning as the hour for the interview, which moment being arrived, say the “Memoirs,” Cagliostro and his wife, clothed in white garments, clasped about the waist with girdles of rose-colour, presented themselves at the castellated temple of mystery, which was the abode of the dubious divinity whom they desired to adore. The drawbridge was lowered, a man six feet in height, clothed in a long grey robe, led them into a dimly-lighted chamber. Therein some folding doors sprang suddenly open, and they beheld a temple illuminated by a thousand wax lights, with the Count de Saint-Germain enthroned upon the altar; at his feet two acolytes swung golden thuribles, which diffused sweet and unobtrusive perfumes. The divinity bore upon his breast a diamond pentagram of almost intolerable radiance. A majestic statue, white and diaphanous, upheld on the steps of the altar a vase inscribed, “Elixir of Immortality,” while a vast mirror was on the wall, and before it a living being, majestic as the statue, walked to and fro. Above the mirror were these singular words--“Store House of Wandering Souls.” The most solemn silence prevailed in this sacred retreat, but at length a voice, which seemed hardly a voice, pronounced these words--“Who are you? Whence come you? What would you?” Then the Count and Countess Cagliostro prostrated themselves, and the former answered after a long pause, “I come to invoke the God of the faithful, the Son of Nature, the sire of truth. I come to demand of him one of the fourteen thousand seven hundred secrets which are treasured in his breast, I come to proclaim myself his slave, his apostle, his martyr.” The divinity did not respond, but after a long silence, the same voice asked:--“What does the partner of thy long wanderings intend?” “To obey and to serve,” answered Lorenza. Simultaneously with her words, profound darkness succeeded the glare of light, uproar followed on tranquillity, terror on trust, and a sharp and menacing voice cried loudly:--“Woe to those who cannot stand the tests!”