CHAPTER XI.
MR. MOLE VISITS THE WIZARD--THE MAGIC MIRROR AND THE LIFE-LIKEVISION--THE INCANTATION--THE CHARMED WIG.
"In point of fact, sir," said young Jack to his tutor one morning, "itis about the only thing worth seeing here."
"What is, Jack?"
"The wizard."
Mr. Mole looked very straight at his pupil upon this.
"What wizard, sir?" he said, severely. "What do you mean?"
"I mean the conjuror that Mr. Jefferson, and dad, and Uncle Dick wentto see."
"When?"
"The other day. Didn't they tell you about it?"
"No, sir."
When Mr. Mole addressed his pupil as "sir," young Jack knew pretty wellthat he thought he was being humbugged.
There is an old saying--"Jack was as good as his master."
Putting on a look of injured innocence, he called his comrade Harry tocorroborate what he had said.
"That's quite true, Mr. Mole."
"That Mr. Jefferson went with Mr. Harkaway and Harvey to see anecromancer?"
"Yes."
"Preposterous!" quoth Mr. Mole. "Why, whatever is the world coming tonext? We shall have them spirit-rapping and table-turning and such-likemuck, I suppose."
Jack looked serious.
"Then you don't believe in necromancy--that they can tell the past andthe future by the aid of astrology?"
"Pickles!"
It would have astonished Messieurs Crosse and Blackwell themselves,could they have heard what a deal that one word could convey whenuttered by an Isaac Mole.
"Well, sir," said Harry Girdwood, seriously, "the wizard told us somevery remarkable things indeed."
"What did he tell you?"
"Many things, many very wonderful things; but one of the most wonderfulwas about you, sir."
Mr. Mole started.
"Don't you try to come the old soldier over me," said Mole.
Harry Girdwood protested that he held Mr. Mole in far too much respectto essay any thing like coming the ancient military, or indeed anythingelse which might be construed into want of proper feeling.
Mr. Mole looked hard at him.
"And what did he say about me?"
"He said that all the intelligence of our party was centred in oneperson."
"Well?"
"And that the initials of the person in question were I. M."
"Now, Jack."
"Sir."
"You two boys are conspiring against me."
"You are rather hard upon us, sir," said Harry Girdwood, with aninjured look.
"Was I? Dear me, I didn't mean that," said poor Mole. "But I'll go andsee this wizard, as you call him."
"It might startle you, sir."
"Stuff and nonsense, Harry; my nerves are iron--iron, I tell you."
"They had need be of steel, if you really mean to go."
"I'll go, and you shall go with me, Harry," said Mr. Mole; "and I'llunmask this wretched impostor before you."
And down came his clenched fist upon the table, with a fierceness andenergy which made all the things leap up.
* * * * *
The chamber of mystery was arranged with a keen eye to effect.
The present possessors of the place had preserved all the adjunctswhich had looked so effective during the career of the necromancer, whohad fled ignominiously.
A huge stuffed alligator swung from the ceiling, and the lighting ofthe room was effected by means of two or three swinging lamps, thatburnt dimly blue, and made the place look sepulchral enough to satisfythe most morbid cravings for the horrible.
At the further end of the room was a "charmed circle," drawn withchalk, and set around it was a row of hideous grinning skulls, whichsuggested that a hint had been borrowed from Zamiel, in "DerFreyschutz."
Besides these matters, there were several skeletons stuck up in themost alarming attitudes.
Beside the chair was a large oval frame.
Upon the other side of the necromancer's chair was a heavy curtain, or_portiere_ of cloth, covered with fantastic figures, and this wasdrawn aside a minute or so after Mr. Mole and Harry Girdwood appeared.
Then, through the dark aperture thus disclosed, the wizard hobbled in.
Not the wizard that we have seen before, but a little old man bent halfdouble with age, and of whom little was to be seen save a long whitebeard and an appropriate robe.
He leant heavily upon a staff, and sank into his chair with evidentpain and difficulty.
"What would ye with me?" said the necromancer, in feeble, queruloustones. "If ye have come to scoff again, begone ere I summon an evilspirit to blight ye."
Mr. Mole said nothing.
But when Harry Girdwood placed his hand nervously upon the oldgentleman's arm, as if for protection, he felt that he was tremblingslightly.
"He knows that we are English, you see," whispered Harry.
"Ye-es--ahem!--ye-es."
"Do you hear me?" said the wizard.
"Ye-es, oh, yes, sir," said Mr. Mole, who could not, for the life ofhim, get his voice above a whisper.
"Then answer."
"By all means! decidedly--quite so, I assure you."
"What? Beware! Do you mean to doubt and mock?"
"Oh, dear; yes."
"Hah!"
"That is, no. I really don't know what I am saying."
"Silence, or the fiends will have your ber-lud ber-lud--Do you hearme?" shrieked the old wizard.
"Quite so. Dear, dear me, Harry," said Mr. Mole in an undertone, "whata very remarkable person, and I don't want to lose my ber-lud."
"What do you say now, sir? Do you feel sure that he is a humbug?"
"Of course not, but--"
At this juncture their conversation was cut short by a low, rumblingnoise, that sounded like distant thunder.
As it continued, it increased in strength, until it became absolutelydeafening.
Then suddenly upon a sign from the necromancer, it ceased, and the manof mystery arose and pointed menacingly with his wand at Mole.
"Ye have thought well to neglect my warning," he said, in a voice whichthrilled poor Mole strangely; "the secrets of your inmost heart areknown to me as to my familiar, and the penalty must be enacted."
Mole bounced up.
"Goodness me!"
Harry Girdwood laid a trembling hand upon the unhappy old gentleman,and played the part of Job's comforter once again with considerableeffect.
"We are lost."
"Don't, Harry, don't! Pray consider Mrs. Mole and the two babes."
"Try and melt him with a very humble apology."
"I will, I do!" exclaimed Mr. Mole in great excitement. "I really didnot mean it, Mr. Conjuror; 'pon my soul, I did not; and pray do not letyour vampires take my her-lud."
"Enough," said the wizard, sternly; "for once your ignorance shallexcuse you. Now say what you would have with me and begone."
"I think I should like to go," Mole whispered to Harry,
"What for?"
"We have been a long while here," said Mr. Mole in the same tone; "Mrs.M, will be looking for me."
"Perhaps you don't feel quite comfortable here."
"Comfortable," said Mr. Mole with a sickly smile; "oh, dear me, yes, Inever was jollier."
"A little nervous perhaps, sir."
"My dear boy," said Mole, positively, "I have nerves of iron, literallyiron. Ha! what noise is that?"
"Only the magician's evil spirit, or his familiar, as he calls it."
"Strange," said Mole; "but sheer humbug of course."
"Humbug?"
"Hush!" exclaimed Mr. Mole, very anxiously.
Bang went that deafening thunder again, and Mr. Mole hopped towards thedoor.
Harry Girdwood followed him closely up.
"You are uncomfortable, Mr. Mole."
"Not at all; nerves of adamant, Harry."
The latter laughed.
Never was there such an audacious
humbug as Isaac Mole.
"You see that frame, sir, beside the wizard's chair?" said Girdwood.
"Yes," replied Mr. Mole; "what of it?"
"He showed us some marvels there last time."
"What is it?"
"A magic mirror."
"You must have been thoroughly well cheated; now, what could he haveshown you there?"
"Wonders," replied Harry impressively; "you, amongst other marvels."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, sir, that you appeared before us as plainly as I see you now."
Mr. Mole certainly looked serious at this.
"He can show you anyone you may want to see," said Harry.
"Never!"
"Try him."
"I will," said Mr. Mole, with a show of determination, but shaking allover.
"Now, O sceptic, what proof of my lore would ye have? Would ye knowsomething of yourself?"
"No."
"Yes," said Harry Girdwood for him promptly.
The wizard inclined his head gravely, and opened a large volume beforehim upon the table.
After poring over this for a time, he said the following doggrel in adeep bass voice--
"The doom of Mole is understood, For ever more to walk on wood; Though upon macadam or stone Yet he shall walk on wood alone.
"Let him march out on asphalte--tile, In orange groves his thoughts beguile; Where'er he be, the fate of Mole's To scud through life upon bare poles"
This peculiar incantation had its effect somewhat increased by softmusic.
"Ahem!" said Mr. Mole, "it didn't want a wizard to tell me that."
"What, sir?" demanded Harry, innocently.
"About my wooden legs; my infirmity is visible to every body."
"But how could he know?"
"By looking."
"Still sceptical," said the wizard, who had very sharp ears; "shall Iconsult my book again?"
"No, no," said Mr. Mole, uneasily.
But Harry Girdwood said "Yes."
He did not want to end the scene yet.
"What would you?" demanded the magician sternly.
Harry commenced to whisper to Mr. Mole.
"Come, sir, pluck up your courage, and find out something aboutyourself. You know the past--why not ask him about the future?"
"He might be rude enough to say something unpleasant, Harry. However,I'll try him."
Then, with a very polite bow, Mr. Mole asked--
"Can you tell me, Mr. Magician, what my ultimate fate is?"
The necromancer took two steps forward and seized Mr. Mole's hand.
"I find that the line of life is tinged with the hue of blood," saidhe, in solemn tones, after a lengthened inspection of the palm.
"Dear me, how unpleasant--I washed my hands not long ago."
"Man! do you think you can wash away the decrees of fate or sponge outthe solemn words written by the stars? You are an Englishman?"
"Certainly."
"Already six Englishman have sought me, and each of the six died aterrible death. What says the book?--
"A terrible death on this green earth, With never the slightest chance of heaven; Let him curse the day--the hour of his birth, The English victim numbered seven."
"And you are _Number Seven,_ Mr. Mole. May all the powers ofheaven and earth preserve me from such a terrible doom as yours."
Mr. Mole almost fainted when the magician uttered such fearful wordsrespecting his (Mole's) fate.
Harry Girdwood, however, handed him a rum flask, and a good pull atthat restored his nerves.
"Pooh!" said he, "I don't believe a word he uttered."
"Still sceptical?" said the magician. "But to convince you of my power,I will show you any thing you like in my magic mirror."
"Very well, then, I should like to see Harkaway and Harvey at thispresent moment--just to ascertain what they are doing--that will be atest."
He chuckled as he said this.
But as he spoke the magic mirror grew light, and two figures were seen,set, as it were, in a frame.
Jack Harkaway the elder, was seated in an arm-chair reading; beside himstood his constant companion, Dick Harvey.
The latter's figure was the more remarkable of the two, and theattitude was not merely characteristic, but it was startlingly likelife.
One hand was in his pocket; the other was at his face, the thumbpointing at his nose, the fingers outstretched towards the audience.
"What do you think of that?" asked Harry Girdwood, in low tones.
"Marvellous!" cried Mole; "that is Harkaway and Harvey, sure enough.Harvey has got something the matter with his nose."
"No," whispered Harry, "he's taking a sight at you."
"So he is. Just like Harvey. Harvey!" he called out.
The mirror darkened, and the figures faded away from the sight upon theinstant.
"Do you desire still another proof of my skill?" asked the wizard.
"Well you can, if you like, tell me something more about myself; butdon't put yourself to any trouble."
The wizard leant over his book earnestly for a consider able time.
"I see here," said he, "that you have contrived to keep one importantmatter secret from your friends."
"What?"
"The hairs of your head are numbered," continued the wizard.
Mr. Mole changed colour.
"How--what?"
"By the barber; you wear a wig."
"Oh, no--no!" exclaimed Harry Girdwood, positively, "You are wrongthere, sir, I assure you. Is he not, Mr. Mole?"
"Of course he is."
"Will you see for yourself, unbelieving boy?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"Where--say, where shall my familiar take it?"
"Up to the ceiling."
Mr. Mole groaned.
At the self-same instant out went the lights; a heavy hand was placedupon Mr. Mole's head, and hey, presto! his wig was seen dancing aboutat the ceiling, glittering with a phosphorescent light upon it.
Mr. Mole looked up, gave one awful yell, then made for the door, andflew away as fast as his wooden legs would carry him.
And his yells continued, for all along his route young Jack hadsprinkled a plentiful supply of crackers, which exploded as he ran.
An unearthly chorus, sounding like the discordant laughter of invisiblefiends greeted his retreat, and he never stopped until he had got home,panting and gasping for breath.
As soon as he was out of the room Harry Girdwood locked the door.
"Come forth, my merry devils!" he shouted. "Old Mole's gone."
The curtain was drawn back, and in came Dick Harvey and Jack Harkaway,carrying lights.
The wizard threw back his head dress and long horsehair wig, and showedthe grinning face of young Jack himself.
"Bravo, Jack," said his comrade, Harry; "you did it ever so much betterthan the other conjuror did."
"Was he frightened?" inquired young Jack.
"Poor old Mole! I never saw him so alarmed before."
Harvey and old Jack enjoyed the fun every bit as much as the boys.
"My opinion is," said the elder Harkaway, laughing, "that the triumphof the whole job was in the dancing wig."
"It was beautifully done," said Harvey.
"I nearly missed it," said Harry Girdwood laughing, "for you put outthe lights so suddenly that I couldn't find the string, and then Inearly dug the hook into his head as well as his wig; and as for thephosphorus, I gave him a dab with it upon the nose."
"Ha, ha, ha!"
Every thing had been carefully arranged beforehand, it need hardly besaid, and a cord, with a fish-hook at the end of it, was run over asmall wheel fixed in the ceiling.
Harry held the other e
nd of the cord, and as soon as the darkness andconfusion came, he drove the hook into poor old Mole's wig, while herubbed it dexterously with phosphorus, and then with a jerk he hauledit up to the ceiling, where he set it dancing about, to theindescribable horror of Mole.