"It all starts with that. But other things come afterwards, things which vary and which I know nothing about!" "But how can that be possible?" I asked. "Do you mean to say that you don't know anything about them, you who prepared everything for them?" "I prepared them, but I do not control them. As I told you, I have opened a door which leads into the darkness; and from that darkness unforeseen images emerge." "But is the thing that's coming of the same nature as those eyes?" "No." "Then what is it, uncle?" "The thing that's coming will be a representation of images in conformity with what we are accustomed to see." "Things which we shall understand, therefore?" "Yes, we shall understand them; and yet they will be all the more incomprehensible." I often wondered, during the weeks that followed, if my uncle's words were to be fully relied upon and if he had not uttered them in order to mislead me as to the origin and meaning of his discoveries. How indeed was it possible to think that the key to the riddle remained unknown to him? But at that moment I was wholly under his influence, steeped in the great mystery that surrounded us; and, with a constricted feeling at my heart, with all my overstimulated senses, I thought of nothing but gazing into the miraculous panel. A movement on my uncle's part warned me. I gave a start. The dawn was rising over the grey surface. I saw, first of all, a cloudy radiance whirling around a central point, towards which all the luminous spirals rushed and in which they were swallowed up while whirling upon themselves. Next, this point expanded into an ever wider circle, covered with a light, hazy veil which gradually dispersed, revealing a vague, floating image, like the apparitions raised by spiritualists and mediums at their sittings. Then followed as it were a certain hesitation. The phantom image was striving with the diffuse shadow and seeking to attain life and light. Certain features became more pronounced. Outlines and separate planes took shape; and at last a flood of light issued from the phantom image and turned it into a dazzling picture, which seemed to be bathed in sunlight. It was a woman's face. I remember that at that moment my mental confusion was such that I felt like darting forward to feel the marvellous wall and lay my hands upon the living material in which the incredible phenomenon was vibrating. But my uncle dug his fingers into my arm: "I won't have you move!" he growled. "If you budge an inch, the whole thing will fade away. Look!" I did not move; indeed, I doubt whether I could have done so. My legs were giving way beneath me. Both of us, my uncle and I, dropped into a sitting posture on the fallen trunk of a tree. "Look, look!" he commanded.