card in his hand, he found a baronial equipage waiting for him. A footman approached, and, making a sign to him, opened the carriage door. Within was a lady in black satin, whose face was concealed by a thick veil. She motioned him to a seat beside her, and at the same time displayed the other part of the card he had received. The door was shut, and the carriage rolled away. When the lady raised her veil, Eliphas Levi saw that she was of mature age; and beneath her grey eyebrows were bright black eyes of preternatural fixity.”
Susie Boyd clapped her hands with delight.
“I think it’s delicious, and I’m sure every word of it is true,” she cried. “I’m enchanted with the mysterious meeting at Westminster Abbey in the Middle Victorian era. Can’t you see the elderly lady in a huge crinoline and a black poke bonnet, and the wizard in a ridiculous tall hat, a bottle-green frock-coat, and a flowing tie of black silk?”
“Eliphas remarks that the lady spoke French with a marked English accent,” pursued Haddo imperturably. “She addressed him as follows: ‘Sir, I am aware that the law of secrecy is rigorous among adepts; and I know that you have been asked for phenomena, but have declined to gratify a frivolous curiosity. It is possible that you do not possess the necessary materials. I can show you a complete magical cabinet, but I must require of you first the most inviolable silence. If you do not guarantee this on your honour, I will give order for you to be driven home.’”
Oliver Haddo told his story not ineffectively, but
