The ceiling of the room was slightly arched, but its construction, owing to the extreme height, could not be distinguished. At the end of the apartment, in front of the candelabrum, was a large square altar, also hung with dark cloth. Tripods, brazen monopodia[4] covered with all kinds of strange utensils, low stools, and various unrecognizable articles were arranged in symmetrical order on both sides. In the centre of the floor lay a rug about thirty feet square, painted or interwoven with mysterious figures; on each corner stood a candlestick even taller than the candelabrum at the end. The young men had about five minutes’ time in which to examine their surroundings by the dim light of the livid flame, then there was a sound like the distant notes of an Aeolian harp and, without their knowing how and whence he came, Olbasanus stood behind the cloth-draped altar. “You do not come alone, Caius Bononius!” he said, in a musical voice. “No matter--I know. Most mortals cherish scruples about approaching, relying solely on their own strength, the rooms where the gods are to reveal themselves directly and indirectly. Let your companion, whoever he may be, also draw near; his quiet, devout presence will not disturb the Chaldean’s work.” “You are mistaken, Olbasanus,” replied Caius Bononius, “the person accompanying me is the one who longs to address a question to the goddess. I, Caius Bononius, only sent my messenger to you in behalf of this youth; for, I confess, I never felt a desire to lift the veil from the future.” “I am mistaken,” replied Olbasanus. “That is the lot of all human beings, and mine also, so long as I speak to you only as a feeble and perishable man. The favor of the gods, when I appeal to them, first casts into my soul the light that renders any error impossible. Well! Olbasanus is disposed to grant your wish, though as a man he cannot understand what could induce you to use this evasion.” “The reasons are of small importance,” replied Bononius. “Then you probably desire to have your companion’s name remain concealed from the prophet?” Caius Bononius exchanged a hasty glance with his friend, then turning to Olbasanus, replied: “If it is agreeable to you, yes!” The Chaldean seemed to hesitate a few seconds. “Greater power is required of the magician’s art when the questioner conceals his name,” he said slowly; “but since you earnestly desire....” “We beseech it!” replied Bononius. The Chaldean now came with measured pace from behind the altar. “Granted!” he said solemnly. Then he stretched out his hand, in which gleamed a small ivory wand. Instantly the spacious room glowed with a light as bright as that of day. Lamps not only burned in all the candelabra--but even between the pillars flames seemed to spring from the ground; shallow vessels appeared in which jets of light blazed steadily.