"What then?"

"Ask not me. Use the wand to invoke Intelligences higher than mine."

"And how?"

"I will tell you not. Of yourself you may learn, if you guide the wand by
your own pride of will and desire; but in the hands of him who has learned
not the art, the wand has its dangers. Again I say you have summoned me!
Wherefore?"

"Lying shade, I summoned thee not."

"So wouldst thou say to the demons, did they come in their terrible wrath,
when the bungler, who knows not the springs that he moves, calls them up
unawares, and can neither control nor dispel. Less revengeful than they,
I leave thee unharmed, and depart."

"Stay. If, as thou sayest, no command I address to thee--to thee, who art
only the image or shadow--can have effect on the body and mind of the
being whose likeness thou art, still thou canst tell me what passes now in
his brain. Does it now harbour schemes against me through the woman I
love? Answer truly."

"I reply for the sleeper, of whom I am more than a likeness, though only
the shadow. His thought speaks thus: 'I know, Allen Fenwick, that in thee
is the agent I need for achieving the end that I seek. Through the woman
thou lovest, I hope to subject thee. A grief that will harrow thy heart
is at hand; when that grief shall befall, thou wilt welcome my coming. In
me alone thy hope will be placed; through me alone wilt thou seek a path