Page:Doughty--Mirrikh or A woman from Mars.djvu/167

 closed his eyes was a child’s hand, and I know the one which touched me was big and rough—the hand of a full  grown man.

Suddenly our eyes opened of their own accord, and there was Padma before us again. He now held a large, oval bowl of solid gold, chased in curious pattern and filled to the  brim with a liquid of the most intense black. It’s surface, as he set it down at Walla’s feet, instantly became as smooth  as glass, and I could see the face of the girl reflected in it. I thought of Doctor Dee and his wonderful stone, of the magic mirrors of the Arabian Nights, and I thought I  understood.

“Say, Wylde,” whispered the Doctor; “I’ve been over this ground before in India. There’s something in it. You’ll see.”

Once the bowl was in place, our eyes closed again.

“Wonderful!”

This time I felt the child’s hand, and the Doctor swore by all good and holy, that the hand which touched him was a man’s. Indeed he clapped his own hand to his head and tried to grasp it, but failed, of course. When our eyes next opened, there stood old Padma again with a small brazier, a  bronze dish and a basket of charcoal at his side. Now who could longer doubt the diablerie of the whole affair?

The old lama placed the brazier at some little distance from Walla, and stood the dish upon it, having previously  lighted the coals beneath.

So much did the brazier resemble the tripod of such common occurrence upon ancient Greek coins, that I began wondering if it could by any possibility be a relic of the  Bactrians. That it was from a Greek model there can be no doubt.

By this time the Doctor was growing cool again; so much so that he ventured to question Padma about his preparations.

The old lama muttered a few words in reply, to me, of course, wholly unintelligible, and after that paid no further  attention to either of us, but went straight on with his work.

“By Jove, he’s a good one!” said the Doctor.

“What does he say?” I whispered.

“Well, it amounted to telling me to mind my own business, George. He says if we keep still we shall see Maurice. Of course you understand that this is the black magic of the