"Ombos turned his glittering eyes on me a moment inquisitively.
"'Oh, tell me all that kind of stuff if you like,' I protested good-humouredly. 'It makes no impression on me. I'm a normal man, Ombos, and I object to having my free imagination harrowed over things that don't count. Behind that curtain is a bronze statue, and it never can or will be anything else but a bronze statue, and that's about the sum and total of it all.'
"'I was merely telling you a few cold and scientific facts,' returned Ombos argumentatively.
"'Now, if I wished to impress you it would be easy enough. I would like to test that sensitiveness which you boast that you don't possess. I think I could give you a severe shaking-up! And I will begin by telling you that I will employ mere vulgar trickery ... the trickery of any mountebank who fools people at a country fair!'
"He looked at me with that slow smile of his--the smile of the mystic--mocking, mysterious.
"I answered him with a weak laugh. 'You may try some of your tricks, wizard; but you will fail to impress me, I think!'
"His keen eyes flamed, and his brow was dark and hot. He started up and walked over to the small oak escritoire. Bending down he produced a small glass lamp, and put a light to it. It burnt with the imperceptible flame of pure spirit of wine. He took it and vanished a moment. When he returned, and set it before me, it gave out a keen white glare and heavily-scented smoke. He took me by the arm and pointed to the black velvet curtain which hid the bronze statue. 'See, there: behind--through the curtain. Who is that?'
"While I looked, Ombos gave a strange rasping sound. Then, in a tone of weird intensity: 'See! See!' and he laid his hand on mine ... the curtain was no longer there, and some vague thing gathered--the statue was dim behind it--the form of a man.
"'The veil is drawn,' said the voice of Ombos. 'Master, the veil is drawn. See, if you will. See!'
"In a fluid light the form darkened. I saw Ombos seated before a table with his head bowed down over a folio volume, quiet and still. The head was ill to look at, and I knew he was dead.... All grew misty and faded into light again.
"'The veil is drawn,' he droned. 'Look again!'