They had some difficulty in selecting a psychometrist—­so numerous were those who advertised, in an equally alluring manner—­but they at length decided in favour of Madame Elvita, whose consulting rooms were in New Bond Street.  When they arrived there, Madame Elvita was, of course, engaged.  Shiel was delighted—­it gave him an extra half-hour with Gladys.  When Madame was free, she had much to tell them.  First of all she spoke to them of Karmas, Kamadevas, Rupadevas, vitalized shells, etheric doubles, the Nermanakaya, and afterwards solemnly announced that she must relapse into a state of clairvoyance, in order to get in touch with Tillie Toot, a certain spirit from whom she could learn all that Gladys and Shiel wanted to know.  Accordingly, in the manner of most other two-guinea clairvoyants, she composed herself in a graceful and recumbent attitude, made a lot of queer grimaces and still queerer noises, and spoke in a falsetto voice, which purposed to be that of Tillie Toot, once a barmaid in Edinburgh, now one of Madame’s familiar spirits.  And the gist of what “Tillie” told them was that Hamar & Co. derived their powers from Black Magic; and that the secrets thereof could only be learned from Madame, after a series of sittings with her—­sittings for which Madame would only require a fee of fifty guineas:  a most moderate, in fact quite trifling, sum, considering the wonderful instruction they would receive.

But Madame’s magnanimous offer tempted neither Gladys nor Shiel; and they abruptly took their departure.

Kateroski (nee Jones) in Regent Street, whom Gladys and Shiel had agreed to consult in the event of a non-successful visit to Madame Elvita in Bond Street, also told them that Black Magic was the key to Hamar, Curtis & Kelson’s performances.  She advised them to get on the Astral Plane, where they would meet spirits who would give them all the information they desired.

Madame Kateroski’s instructions were simple.  “It is really a matter of faith,” she said.  “All you have to do is to go to some secluded spot—­the privacy of your bedroom will do admirably—­sit down, close your eyes, look into your lids and concentrate hard.  After a while you will no longer see your eyelids—­your lids will fade away and you will be on the Astral Plane, and see strange creatures, which, although terrifying, won’t harm you.  When you get used to them, you will communicate with them, and learn from them all you want to know.”

“Shall we try?” Gladys remarked laughingly to Shiel, as they stepped into the street.  “But if faith is essential to success, I fear failure, as far as I am concerned, is a foregone conclusion.  I know I shouldn’t have sufficient faith.”

“Nor I either,” Shiel said.  “But, perhaps, we could acquire a necessary amount of it, if we were to experiment together.  Supposing we try in that delightfully secluded copse in your garden.”

Gladys shook her head.  “I’m afraid it would be useless.  Besides, if my father were to hear of it, he would fear worry had turned my brain, and most likely have another fit.  No, we must think of something more practical.  In the meanwhile, if you will keep on with the part, you have so generously undertaken, you will be doing me an inestimable service.”