I now thought it time to hunt up Pendlam. After no little search, I was sent to an obscure lodging. I opened the door pointed out to me, and entered an extraordinary chamber. The sides were covered with strange diagrams, grotesque drawings, lettered inscriptions. Some were sketched rudely upon the plastering with colored chalk; others were designed upon paper, and pasted on the wall. In the centre of the room sat an indescribable human figure, with its face buried in its hands. It wore an anomalous garment, slashed with various colors, like a harlequin's coat. Upon one shoulder was sewed the semblance of a door cut out of blue cloth; on the other, a crescent cut out of green. Upon the head was set a tinsel crown, amid tangles of disordered hair. Above was a huge brass key, suspended by a tow string from the ceiling. Table and floor were littered with manuscripts and papers; under the former I observed an empty bottle. I spoke. The figure started, and looked up. In the sallow cheeks, untrimmed beard, sunken and encircled eyes, I recognized Pendlam. A quick flush spread over his haggard features, and he made a snatch at his tinsel crown. "Do not be disturbed," I entreated. He smiled, but with an air of embarrassment; and leaving the tinsel upon his uncombed head, pointed to the wall. "You see where I am," said Pendlam. "I see, yet do _not_ see." "I have reached the plane of symbols. You are aware that there is something in symbols?" "A great deal! a great deal!" I said, from a sorrowful heart, as I glanced around me. Pendlam, who had spoken doubtingly, seemed encouraged. "Symbols are the highest expression of spiritual thought. Both words and pictures are used. They are the language of the spirit, which only the same spirit can understand. Look here, and you will see some symbols of a very astonishing character." "Astonishing," said I, "is a mild word!" "And what is equally astonishing," added the eager reformer, "is the manner in which they are produced. The hand is moved to write or draw them spontaneously. The symbol comes first, the interpretation afterwards. Here is a vulture soaring away with a lamb. It has a meaning." "A deep meaning!" I added. "We have known such a vulture!" "Here," he cried,--too excited to heed any words but his own,--"are swine feeding upon golden fruit." "Oh, the swine! Oh, the precious, wasted, golden fruit!" "Here is one in words; it reads, _Beware of falling from a balloon_. It requires a peculiar experience," added Pendlam, with a smile, "to enable one to understand that beautiful symbol." "Perhaps I have not had the requisite experience; but"--I laid my hand on Pendlam's shoulder--"I know a man who has fallen from several balloons!" "Here is one," said Pendlam, turning to the table, "which I have just drawn. I was trying to get at its meaning when you came in." He showed me a sketch consisting of a number of zigzag lines, joined one to another, and tending towards a circle.