“Too excited to sleep, I threw myself upon the sofa, and turned the strange series of events over in my mind. Two things were absolutely certain, nay, three--1st, That neither Ravalette, Vatterale, nor the Italian Count, were men as are other men; 2d, that not one of the company suspected this fact; and 3d, that myself was the object, sole and alone, of these extraordinary visitations. Above and beyond all these, it was plain that my destiny was rapidly approaching a crisis, and that the Stranger (mentioned in the legend), as well as Dhoula Bel, were still influencing me for purposes which I could not divine to their full extent. I had already become a Rosicrucian, had passed through five degrees, had visited the Orient, and was about to go again, had learned many dark and solemn mysteries, been instructed in several degrees of magic, knew all about the Elixir of life, the power of will, the art of reading others’ destinies, of constructing and using magic mirrors, and how to discover mines of precious metal, and had deeply regretted that the terrible oath whereby the true Rosicrucian binds himself never to seek wealth for himself, and never to accept riches as the price of the exercise of his power, prevented me from availing myself of its advantages. I knew that on the altar of knowledge I had sacrificed all the deeper interests of my nature. I knew that my heart yearned for woman’s love--that she held one portion of my soul captive at times, but never filled it--that there was a possibility of escaping what I dreaded, could I meet and mingle with a certain soul in whose body ran no drop of Adamic blood; and I almost resolved to abandon all hope, perform the part required of me by my tempters of Belleville, the Tuilleries, and Boston, when suddenly I remembered the paper that Ravalette had placed in my hand, as also the present left for me by Vatterale, but, resolving to omit all care concerning them till morning, at length I succeeded in falling into an uneasy slumber, from which I awoke late on the following morning to find that you, my dear friend [the Editor], had just arrived from Alexandria, and had called upon me.” CHAPTER VII. THE GRAND SECRET? It now devolves upon the Editor of these pages to complete the narrative of Beverly, his friend.