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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:44:04 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:44:04 -0700 |
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diff --git a/14275-h/14275-h.htm b/14275-h/14275-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..72f97cd --- /dev/null +++ b/14275-h/14275-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10573 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Necromancers, by Robert Hugh Benson. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14275 ***</div> + +<h1>THE NECROMANCERS</h1> + + +<p><i>Other books by Robert Hugh Benson</i></p> +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Light Invisible</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>By What Authority?</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The King's Achievement</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The History of Richard Reynall, Solitary</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Queen's Tragedy</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Religion of the Plain Man</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Sanctity of the Church</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Sentimentalists</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Lord of the World</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>A Mirror of Shalott, composed of tales told at a symposium</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Papers of a Pariah</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Conventionalists</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Holy Blissful Martyr Saint Thomas of Canterbury</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Dissolution of the Religious Houses</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Necromancers</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Non-Catholic Denominations</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>None Other Gods</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>A Winnowing</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Christ in the Church: a volume of religious essays</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Dawn of All</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Come Rack! Come Rope!</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Coward</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>The Friendship of Christ</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>An Average Man</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Confessions of a Convert</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Optimism</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Paradoxes of Catholicism</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Poems</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Initiation</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Oddsfish!</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Spiritual Letters of Monsignor R. Hugh Benson to one of his converts</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Loneliness</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Sermon Notes</i></span><br /> +</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h1>THE NECROMANCERS</h1> + + +<h1>Robert Hugh Benson</h1> + + +<h3>First published in 1909.</h3> + + +<h3>Wildside Press<br /> +Doylestown, Pennsylvania</h3> + + + +<h3><i>The Necromancers</i><br /> +A publication of<br /> +<i>Wildside Press</i><br /> +P.O. Box 301<br /> +Holicong, PA 18928-0301</h3> + + +<h4>www.wildsidepress.com</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>I must express my gratitude to the Rev. Father Augustine Howard, +O.P., who has kindly read this book in manuscript and favored me with +his criticisms.</p> + +<p>—Robert Hugh Benson.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Contents</h2> +<p> + <a href="#Chapter_I"><b>Chapter I</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_II"><b>Chapter II</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_III"><b>Chapter III</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_IV"><b>Chapter IV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_V"><b>Chapter V</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_VI"><b>Chapter VI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_VII"><b>Chapter VII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_VIII"><b>Chapter VIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_IX"><b>Chapter IX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_X"><b>Chapter X</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_XI"><b>Chapter XI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_XII"><b>Chapter XII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_XIII"><b>Chapter XIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_XIV"><b>Chapter XIV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_XV"><b>Chapter XV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_XVI"><b>Chapter XVI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_XVII"><b>Chapter XVII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Chapter_XVIII"><b>Chapter XVIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#Epilogue"><b>Epilogue</b></a><br /> + </p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_I" id="Chapter_I" /><i>Chapter I</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>"I am very much distressed about it all," murmured Mrs. Baxter.</p> + +<p>She was a small, delicate-looking old lady, very true to type indeed, +with the silvery hair of the devout widow crowned with an exquisite +lace cap, in a filmy black dress, with a complexion of precious china, +kind shortsighted blue eyes, and white blue-veined hands busy now upon +needlework. She bore about with her always an atmosphere of piety, +humble, tender, and sincere, but as persistent as the gentle +sandalwood aroma which breathed from her dress. Her theory of the +universe, as the girl who watched her now was beginning to find out, +was impregnable and unapproachable. Events which conflicted with it +were either not events, or they were so exceptional as to be +negligible. If she were hard pressed she emitted a pathetic +peevishness that rendered further argument impossible.</p> + +<p>The room in which she sat reflected perfectly her personality. In +spite of the early Victorian date of the furniture, there was in its +arrangement and selection a taste so exquisite as to deprive it of +even a suspicion of Philistinism. Somehow the rosewood table on which +the September morning sun fell with serene beauty did not conflict as +it ought to have done with the Tudor paneling of the room. A tapestry +screen veiled the door into the hall, and soft curtains of velvety +gold hung on either side of the tall, modern windows leading to the +garden. For the rest, the furniture was charming and suitable—low +chairs, a tapestry couch, a multitude of little leather-covered books +on every table, and two low carved bookshelves on either side of the +door filled with poetry and devotion.</p> + +<p>The girl who sat upright with her hands on her lap was of another type +altogether—of that type of which it is impossible to predicate +anything except that it makes itself felt in every company. Any +respectable astrologer would have had no difficulty in assigning her +birth to the sign of the Scorpion. In outward appearance she was not +remarkable, though extremely pleasing, and it was a pleasingness that +grew upon acquaintance. Her beauty, such as it was, was based upon a +good foundation: upon regular features, a slightly cleft rounded chin, +a quantity of dark coiled hair, and large, steady, serene brown +eyes. Her hands were not small, but beautifully shaped; her figure +slender, well made, and always at its ease in any attitude. In fact, +she had an air of repose, strength, and all-round competence; and, +contrasted with the other, she resembled a well-bred sheep-dog eyeing +an Angora cat.</p> + +<p>They were talking now about Laurie Baxter.</p> + +<p>"Dear Laurie is so impetuous and sensitive," murmured his mother, +drawing her needle softly through the silk, and then patting her +material, "and it is all terribly sad."</p> + +<p>This was undeniable, and Maggie said nothing, though her lips opened +as if for speech. Then she closed them again, and sat watching the +twinkling fire of logs upon the hearth. Then once more Mrs. Baxter +took up the tale.</p> + +<p>"When I first heard of the poor girl's death," she said, "it seemed to +me so providential. It would have been too dreadful if he had married +her. He was away from home, you know, on Thursday, when it happened; +but he was back here on Friday, and has been like—like a madman ever +since. I have done what I could, but—"</p> + +<p>"Was she quite impossible?" asked the girl in her slow voice. "I never +saw her, you know."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter laid down her embroidery.</p> + +<p>"My dear, she was. Well, I have not a word against her character, of +course. She was all that was good, I believe. But, you know, her home, +her father—well, what can you expect from a grocer—and a Baptist," +she added, with a touch of vindictiveness.</p> + +<p>"What was she like?" asked the girl, still with that meditative air.</p> + +<p>"My dear, she was like—like a picture on a chocolate-box. I can say +no more than that. She was little and fair-haired, with a very pretty +complexion, and a ribbon in her hair always. Laurie brought her up +here to see me, you know—in the garden; I felt I could not bear to +have her in the house just yet, though, of course, it would have had +to have come. She spoke very carefully, but there was an unmistakable +accent. Once she left out an aitch, and then she said the word over +again quite right."</p> + +<p>Maggie nodded gently, with a certain air of pity, and Mrs. Baxter went +on encouraged.</p> + +<p>"She had a little stammer that—that Laurie thought very pretty, and +she had a restless little way of playing with her fingers as if on a +piano. Oh, my dear, it would have been too dreadful; and now, my poor +boy—"</p> + +<p>The old lady's eyes filled with compassionate tears, and she laid her +sewing down to fetch out a little lace-fringed pocket-handkerchief.</p> + +<p>Maggie leaned back with one easy movement in her low chair, clasping +her hands behind her head; but she still said nothing. Mrs. Baxter +finished the little ceremony of wiping her eyes, and, still winking a +little, bending over her needlework, continued the commentary.</p> + +<p>"Do try to help him, my dear. That was why I asked you to come back +yesterday. I wanted you to be in the house for the funeral. You see, +Laurie's becoming a Catholic at Oxford has brought you two together. +It's no good my talking to him about the religious side of it all; he +thinks I know nothing at all about the next world, though I'm sure—"</p> + +<p>"Tell me," said the girl suddenly, still in the same attitude, "has he +been practicing his religion? You see, I haven't seen much of him this +year, and—"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not very well," said the old lady tolerantly. "He thought +he was going to be a priest at first, you remember, and I'm sure I +should have made no objection; and then in the spring he seemed to be +getting rather tired of it all. I don't think he gets on with Father +Mahon very well. I don't think Father Mahon understands him quite. It +was he, you know, who told him not to be a priest, and I think that +discouraged poor Laurie."</p> + +<p>"I see," said the girl shortly. And Mrs. Baxter applied herself again +to her sewing.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was indeed a rather trying time for the old lady. She was a +tranquil and serene soul; and it seemed as if she were doomed to live +over a perpetual volcano. It was as pathetic as an amiable cat trying +to go to sleep on a rifle range; she was developing the jumps. The +first serious explosion had taken place two years before, when her +son, then in his third year at Oxford, had come back with the +announcement that Rome was the only home worthy to shelter his +aspiring soul, and that he must be received into the Church in six +weeks' time. She had produced little books for his edification, as in +duty bound, she had summoned Anglican divines to the rescue; but all +had been useless, and Laurie had gone back to Oxford as an avowed +proselyte.</p> + +<p>She had soon become accustomed to the idea, and indeed, when the first +shock was over had not greatly disliked it, since her own adopted +daughter, of half French parentage, Margaret Marie Deronnais, had been +educated in the same faith, and was an eminently satisfactory person. +The next shock was Laurie's announcement of his intention to enter the +priesthood, and perhaps the Religious Life as well; but this too had +been tempered by the reflection that in that case Maggie would inherit +this house and carry on its traditions in a suitable manner. Maggie +had come to her, upon leaving her convent school three years before, +with a pleasant little income of her own—had come to her by an +arrangement made previously to her mother's death—and her manner of +life, her reasonableness, her adaptability, her presentableness had +reassured the old lady considerably as to the tolerableness of the +Roman Catholic religion. Indeed, once she had hoped that Laurie and +Maggie might come to an understanding that would prevent all possible +difficulty as to the future of his house and estate; but the fourth +volcanic storm had once more sent the world flying in pieces about +Mrs. Baxter's delicate ears; and, during the last three months she had +had to face the prospect of Laurie's bringing home as a bride the +rather underbred, pretty, stammering, pink and white daughter of a +Baptist grocer of the village.</p> + +<p>This had been a terrible affair altogether; Laurie, as is the custom +of a certain kind of young male, had met, spoken to, and ultimately +kissed this Amy Nugent, on a certain summer evening as the stars came +out; but, with a chivalry not so common in such cases, had also +sincerely and simply fallen in love with her, with a romance usually +reserved for better-matched affections. It seemed, from Laurie's +conversation, that Amy was possessed of every grace of body, mind, and +soul required in one who was to be mistress of the great house; it was +not, so Laurie explained, at all a milkmaid kind of affair; he was not +the man, he said, to make a fool of himself over a pretty face. No, +Amy was a rare soul, a flower growing on stony soil—sandy perhaps +would be the better word—and it was his deliberate intention to make +her his wife.</p> + +<p>Then had followed every argument known to mothers, for it was not +likely that even Mrs. Baxter would accept without a struggle a +daughter-in-law who, five years before, had bobbed to her, wearing a +pinafore, and carrying in a pair of rather large hands a basket of +eggs to her back door. Then she had consented to see the girl, and the +interview in the garden had left her more distressed than ever. (It +was there that the aitch incident had taken place.) And so the +struggle had gone on; Laurie had protested, stormed, sulked, taken +refuge in rhetoric and dignity alternately; and his mother had with +gentle persistence objected, held her peace, argued, and resisted, +conflicting step by step against the inevitable, seeking to reconcile +her son by pathos and her God by petition; and then in an instant, +only four days ago, it seemed that the latter had prevailed; and today +Laurie, in a black suit, rent by sorrow, at this very hour at which +the two ladies sat and talked in the drawing-room, was standing by an +open grave in the village churchyard, seeing the last of his love, +under a pile of blossoms as pink and white as her own complexion, +within four elm-boards with a brass plate upon the cover.</p> + +<p>Now, therefore, there was a new situation to face, and Mrs. Baxter was +regarding it with apprehension.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It is true that mothers know sometimes more of their sons than their +sons know of themselves, but there are certain elements of character +that sometimes neither mothers nor sons appreciate. It was one or two +of those elements that Maggie Deronnais, with her hands behind her +head, was now considering. It seemed to her very odd that neither the +boy himself nor Mrs. Baxter in the least seemed to realize the +astonishing selfishness of this very boy's actions.</p> + +<p>She had known him now for three years, though owing to her own absence +in France a part of the time, and his absence in London for the rest, +she had seen nothing of this last affair. At first she had liked him +exceedingly; he had seemed to her ardent, natural, and generous. She +had liked his affection for his mother and his demonstrativeness in +showing it; she had liked his well-bred swagger, his manner with +servants, his impulsive courtesy to herself. It was a real pleasure to +her to see him, morning by morning, in his knickerbockers and Norfolk +jacket, or his tweed suit; and evening by evening in his swallow-tail +coat and white shirt, and the knee breeches and buckled shoes that he +wore by reason of the touch of picturesque and defiant romanticism +that was so obvious a part of his nature. Then she had begun, little +by little, to perceive the egotism that was even more apparent; his +self-will, his moodiness, and his persistence.</p> + +<p>Though, naturally, she had approved of his conversion to Catholicism, +yet she was not sure that his motives were pure. She had hoped indeed +that the Church, with its astonishing peremptoriness, might do +something towards a moral conversion, as well as an artistic and +intellectual change of view. But this, it seemed, had not happened; +and this final mad episode of Amy Nugent had fanned her criticism to +indignation. She did not disapprove of romance—in fact she largely +lived by it—but there were things even more important, and she was as +angry as she could be, with decency, at this last manifestation of +selfishness.</p> + +<p>For the worst of it was that, as she knew perfectly well, Laurie was +rather an exceptional person. He was not at all the Young Fool of +Fiction. There was a remarkable virility about him, he was +tender-hearted to a degree, he had more than his share of brains. It +was intolerable that such a person should be so silly.</p> + +<p>She wondered what sorrow would do for him. She had come down from +Scotland the night before, and down here to Herefordshire this +morning; she had not then yet seen him; and he was now at the +funeral....</p> + +<p>Well, sorrow would be his test. How would he take it?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter broke in on her meditations.</p> + +<p>"Maggy, darling ... do you think you can do anything? You know I once +hoped...."</p> + +<p>The girl looked up suddenly, with so vivid an air that it was an +interruption. The old lady broke off.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," she said. "But is it quite impossible that—"</p> + +<p>"Please, don't. I—I can't talk about that. It's impossible—utterly +impossible."</p> + +<p>The old lady sighed; then she said suddenly, looking at the clock +above the oak mantelshelf, "It is half-past. I expect—"</p> + +<p>She broke off as the front door was heard to open and close beyond the +hall, and waited, paling a little, as steps sounded on the flags; but +the steps went up the stairs outside, and there was silence again.</p> + +<p>"He has come back," she said. "Oh! my dear."</p> + +<p>"How shall you treat him?" asked the girl curiously.</p> + +<p>The old lady bent again over her embroidery.</p> + +<p>"I think I shall just say nothing. I hope he will ride this afternoon. +Will you go with him?"</p> + +<p>"I think not. He won't want anyone. I know Laurie."</p> + +<p>The other looked up at her sideways in a questioning way, and Maggie +went on with a kind of slow decisiveness.</p> + +<p>"He will be queer at lunch. Then he will probably ride alone and be +late for tea. Then tomorrow—"</p> + +<p>"Oh! my dear, Mrs. Stapleton is coming to lunch tomorrow. Do you think +he'll mind?"</p> + +<p>"Who is Mrs. Stapleton?"</p> + +<p>The old lady hesitated.</p> + +<p>"She's—she's the wife of Colonel Stapleton. She goes in for what I +think is called New Thought; at least, so somebody told me last month. +I'm afraid she's not a very steady person. She was a vegetarian last +year; now I believe she's given that up again."</p> + +<p>Maggie smiled slowly, showing a row of very white, strong teeth.</p> + +<p>"I know, auntie," she said. "No; I shouldn't think Laurie'll mind +much. Perhaps he'll go back to town in the morning, too."</p> + +<p>"No, my dear, he's staying till Thursday."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There fell again one of those pleasant silences that are possible in +the country. Outside the garden, with the meadows beyond the village +road, lay in that sweet September hush of sunlight and mellow color +that seemed to embalm the house in peace. From the farm beyond the +stable-yard came the crowing of a cock, followed by the liquid chuckle +of a pigeon perched somewhere overhead among the twisted chimneys. +And within this room all was equally at peace. The sunshine lay on +table and polished floor, barred by the mullions of the windows, and +stained here and there by the little Flemish emblems and coats that +hung across the glass; while those two figures, so perfectly in place +in their serenity and leisure, sat before the open fire-place and +contemplated the very unpeaceful element that had just walked upstairs +incarnate in a pale, drawn-eyed young man in black.</p> + +<p>The house, in fact, was one of those that have a personality as marked +and as mysterious as of a human character. It affected people in quite +an extraordinary way. It took charge of the casual guest, entertained +and soothed and sometimes silenced him; and it cast upon all who lived +in it an enchantment at once inexplicable and delightful. Externally +it was nothing remarkable.</p> + +<p>It was a large, square-built house, close indeed to the road, but +separated from it by a high wrought-iron gate in an oak paling, and a +short, straight garden-path; originally even ante-Tudor, but matured +through centuries, with a Queen Anne front of mellow red brick, and +back premises of tile, oak, and modern rough-cast, with old +brew-houses that almost enclosed a graveled court behind. Behind this +again lay a great kitchen garden with box-lined paths dividing it all +into a dozen rectangles, separated from the orchard and yew walk by a +broad double hedge down the center of which ran a sheltered path. +Round the south of the house and in the narrow strip westwards lay +broad lawns surrounded by high trees completely shading it from all +view of the houses that formed the tiny hamlet fifty yards away.</p> + +<p>Within, the house had been modernized almost to a commonplace level. A +little hall gave entrance to the drawing-room on the right where these +two women now sat, a large, stately room, paneled from floor to +ceiling, and to the dining-room on the left; and, again, through to +the back, where a smoking room, an inner hall, and the big kitchens +and back premises concluded the ground floor. The two more stories +above consisted, on the first floor, of a row of large rooms, airy, +high, and dignified, and in the attics of a series of low-pitched +chambers, whitewashed, oak-floored, and dormer-windowed, where one or +two of the servants slept in splendid isolation. A little flight of +irregular steps leading out of the big room on to the first floor, +where the housekeeper lived in state, gave access to the further rooms +near the kitchen and sculleries.</p> + +<p>Maggie had fallen in love with the place from the instant that she had +entered it. She had been warned in her French convent of the giddy +gaieties of the world and its temptations; and yet it seemed to her +after a week in her new home that the world was very much maligned. +There was here a sense of peace and sheltered security that she had +hardly known even at school; and little by little she had settled down +here, with the mother and the son, until it had begun to seem to her +that days spent in London or in other friends' houses were no better +than interruptions and failures compared with the leisurely, tender +life of this place, where it was so easy to read and pray and possess +her soul in peace. This affair of Laurie's was almost the first +reminder of what she had known by hearsay, that Love and Death and +Pain were the bones on which life was modeled.</p> + +<p>With a sudden movement she leaned forward, took up the bellows, and +began to blow the smoldering logs into flame.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Meanwhile, upstairs on a long couch beside the fire in his big +bed-sitting-room lay a young man on his face motionless.</p> + +<p>A week ago he had been one of those men who in almost any company +appear easy and satisfactory, and, above all, are satisfactory to +themselves. His life was a very pleasant one indeed.</p> + +<p>He had come down from Oxford just a year ago, and had determined to +take things as they came, to foster acquaintanceships, to travel a +little with a congenial friend, to stay about in other people's +houses, and, in fact, to enjoy himself entirely before settling down +to read law. He had done this most successfully, and had crowned all, +as has been related, by falling in love on a July evening with one +who, he was quite certain, was the mate designed for him for Time and +Eternity. His life, in fact, up to three days ago had developed along +exactly those lines along which his temperament traveled with the +greatest ease. He was the only son of a widow, he had an excellent +income, he made friends wherever he went, and he had just secured the +most charming rooms close to the Temple. He had plenty of brains, an +exceedingly warm heart, and had lately embraced a religion that +satisfied every instinct of his nature. It was the best of all +possible worlds, and fitted him like his own well-cut clothes. It +consisted of privileges without responsibilities.</p> + +<p>And now the crash had come, and all was over.</p> + +<p>As the gong sounded for luncheon he turned over and lay on his back, +staring at the ceiling.</p> + +<p>It should have been a very attractive face under other circumstances. +Beneath his brown curls, just touched with gold, there looked out a +pair of grey eyes, bright a week ago, now dimmed with tears, and +patched beneath with lines of sorrow. His clean-cut, rather passionate +lips were set now, with down-turned corners, in a line of angry +self-control piteous to see; and his clear skin seemed stained and +dull. He had never dreamt of such misery in all his days.</p> + +<p>As he lay now, with lax hands at his side, tightening at times in an +agony of remembrance, he was seeing vision after vision, turning now +and again to the contemplation of a dark future without life or love +or hope. Again he saw Amy, as he had first seen her under the luminous +July evening, jeweled overhead with peeping stars, amber to the +westwards, where the sun had gone down in glory. She was in her +sun-bonnet and print dress, stepping towards him across the +fresh-scented meadow grass lately shorn of its flowers and growth, +looking at him with that curious awed admiration that delighted him +with its flattery. Her face was to the west, the reflected glory lay +on it as delicate as the light on a flower, and her blue eyes regarded +him beneath a halo of golden hair.</p> + +<p>He saw her again as she had been one moonlight evening as the two +stood together by the sluice of the stream, among the stillness of the +woods below the village, with all fairyland about them and in their +hearts. She had thrown a wrap about her head and stolen down there by +devious ways, according to the appointment, meeting him, as was +arranged, as he came out from dinner with all the glamour of the Great +House about him, in his evening dress, buckled shoes, and +knee-breeches all complete. How marvelous she had been then—a sweet +nymph of flesh and blood, glorified by the moon to an ethereal +delicacy, with the living pallor of sun-kissed skin, her eyes looking +at him like stars beneath her shawl. They had said very little; they +had stood there at the sluice gate, with his arm about her, and +herself willingly nestling against him, trembling now and again; +looking out at the sheeny surface of the slow flowing stream from +which, in the imperceptible night breeze, stole away wraith after +wraith of water mist to float and lose themselves in the sleeping +woods.</p> + +<p>Or, once more, clearer than all else he remembered how he had watched +her, himself unseen, delaying the delight of revealing himself, one +August morning, scarcely three weeks ago, as she had come down the +road that ran past the house, again in her sun-bonnet and print dress, +with the dew shining about her on grass and hedge, and the haze of a +summer morning veiling the intensity of the blue sky above. He had +called her then gently by name, and she had turned her face to him, +alight with love and fear and sudden wonder.... He remembered even now +with a reflection of memory that was nearly an illusion the smell of +yew and garden flowers.</p> + +<p>This, then, had been the dream; and today the awakening and the end.</p> + +<p>That end was even more terrible than he had conceived possible on that +horrible Friday morning last week, when he had opened the telegram +from her father.</p> + +<p>He had never before understood the sordidness of her surroundings, as +when, an hour ago, he had stood at the grave-side, his eyes wandering +from that long elm box with the silver plate and the wreath of +flowers, to the mourners on the other side—her father in his +broadcloth, his heavy, smooth face pulled in lines of grotesque +sorrow; her mother, with her crimson, tear-stained cheeks, her +elaborate black, her intolerable crape, and her jet-hung mantle. Even +these people had been seen by him up to then through a haze of love; +he had thought them simple honest folk, creatures of the soil, yet +wholesome, natural, and sturdy. And now that the jewel was lost the +setting was worse than empty. There in the elm box lay the remnants of +the shattered gem.... He had seen her in her bed on the Sunday, her +fallen face, her sunken eyes, all framed in the detestable whiteness +of linen and waxen flowers, yet as pathetic and as appealing as ever, +and as necessary to his life. It was then that the supreme fact had +first penetrated to his consciousness, that he had lost her—the fact +which, driven home by the funeral scene this morning, the rustling +crowd come to see the young Squire, the elm box, the heap of +flowers—had now flung him down on this couch, crushed, broken, and +hopeless, like young ivy after a thunderstorm.</p> + +<p>His moods alternated with the rapidity of flying clouds. At one +instant he was furious with pain, at the next broken and lax from the +same cause. At one moment he cursed God and desired to die, defiant +and raging; at the next he sank down into himself as weak as a +tortured child, while tears ran down his cheeks and little moans as of +an animal murmured in his throat. God was a hated adversary, a +merciless Judge ... a Blind Fate ... there was no God ... He was a +Fiend.... there was nothing anywhere in the whole universe but Pain +and Vanity....</p> + +<p>Yet, through it all, like a throbbing pedal note, ran his need of this +girl. He would do anything, suffer anything, make any sacrifice, +momentary or lifelong, if he could but see her again, hold her hand +for one instant, look into her eyes mysterious with the secret of +death. He had but three or four words to say to her, just to secure +himself that she lived and was still his, and then ... then he would +say good-bye to her, content and happy to wait till death should +reunite them. Ah! he asked so little, and God would not give it him.</p> + +<p>All, then, was a mockery. It was only this past summer that he had +begun to fancy himself in love with Maggie Deronnais. It had been an +emotion of very quiet growth, developing gently, week by week, feeding +on her wholesomeness, her serenity, her quiet power, her cool, capable +hands, and the look in her direct eyes; it resembled respect rather +than passion, and need rather than desire; it was a hunger rather than +a thirst. Then had risen up this other, blinding and bewildering; and, +he told himself, he now knew the difference. His lips curled into +bitter and resentful lines as he contemplated the contrast. And all +was gone, shattered and vanished; and even Maggie was now impossible.</p> + +<p>Again he writhed over, sick with pain and longing; and so lay.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was ten minutes before he moved again, and then he only roused +himself as he heard a foot on the stairs. Perhaps it was his mother. +He slipped off the couch and stood up, his face lined and creased with +the pressure with which he had lain just now, and smoothed his tumbled +clothes. Yes, he must go down.</p> + +<p>He stepped to the door and opened it.</p> + +<p>"I am coming immediately," he said to the servant.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He bore himself at lunch with a respectable self-control, though he +said little or nothing. His mother's attitude he found hard to bear, +as he caught her eyes once or twice looking at him with sympathy; and +he allowed himself internally to turn to Maggie with relief in spite +of his meditations just now. She at least respected his sorrow, he +told himself. She bore herself very naturally, though with long +silences, and never once met his eyes with her own. He made his +excuses as soon as he could and slipped across to the stable yard. At +least he would be alone this afternoon. Only, as he rode away half an +hour later, he caught a sight of the slender little figure of his +mother waiting to have one word with him if she could, beyond the +hall-door. But he set his lips and would not see her.</p> + +<p>It was one of those perfect September days that fall sometimes as a +gift from heaven after the bargain of summer has been more or less +concluded. As he rode all that afternoon through lanes and across +uplands, his view barred always to the north by the great downs above +Royston, grey-blue against the radiant sky, there was scarcely a hint +in earth or heaven of any emotion except prevailing peace. Yet the +very serenity tortured him the more by its mockery. The birds babbled +in the deep woods, the cheerful noise of children reached him now and +again from a cottage garden, the mellow light smiled unending +benediction, and yet his subconsciousness let go for never an instant +of the long elm box six feet below ground, and of its contents lying +there in the stifling dark, in the long-grassed churchyard on the hill +above his home.</p> + +<p>He wondered now and again as to the fate of the spirit that had +informed the body and made it what it was; but his imagination refused +to work. After all, he asked himself, what were all the teachings +of theology but words gabbled to break the appalling silence? +Heaven ... Purgatory ... Hell. What was known of these things? The very +soul itself—what was that? What was the inconceivable environment, +after all, for so inconceivable a thing...?</p> + +<p>He did not need these things, he said—certainly not now—nor those +labels and signposts to a doubtful, unimaginable land. He needed Amy +herself, or, at least, some hint or sound or glimpse to show him that +she indeed was as she had always been; whether in earth or heaven, he +did not care; that there was somewhere something that was herself, +some definite personal being of a continuous consciousness with that +which he had known, characterized still by those graces which he +thought he had recognized and certainly loved. Ah! he did not ask +much. It would be so easy to God! Here out in this lonely lane where +he rode beneath the branches, his reins loose on his horse's neck, his +eyes, unseeing, roving over copse and meadow across to the eternal +hills—a face, seen for an instant, smiling and gone again; a whisper +in his ear, with that dear stammer of shyness; a touch on his knee of +those rippling fingers that he had watched in the moonlight playing +gently on the sluice-gate above the moonlit stream.... He would tell +no one if God wished it to be a secret; he would keep it wholly to +himself. He did not ask now to possess her; only to be certain that +she lived, and that death was not what it seemed to be.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Is Father Mahon at home?" he asked, as he halted a mile from his own +house in the village, where stood the little tin church, not a hundred +yards from its elder alienated sister, to which he and Maggie went on +Sundays.</p> + +<p>The housekeeper turned from her vegetable-gathering beyond the +fence, and told him yes. He dismounted, hitched the reins round the +gatepost, and went in.</p> + +<p>Ah! what an antipathetic little room this was in which he waited while +the priest was being fetched from upstairs!</p> + +<p>Over the mantelpiece hung a large oleograph of Leo XIII, in cope and +tiara, blessing with upraised hand and that eternal, wide-lipped +smile; a couple of jars stood beneath filled with dyed grasses; a +briar pipe, redolent and foul, lay between them. The rest of the room +was in the same key: a bright Brussels carpet, pale and worn by the +door, covered the floor; cheap lace curtains were pinned across the +windows; and over the littered table a painted deal bookshelf held a +dozen volumes, devotional, moral, and dogmatic theology; and by the +side of that an illuminated address framed in gilt, and so on.</p> + +<p>Laurie looked at it all in dumb dismay. He had seen it before, again +and again, but had never realized its horror as he realized it now +from the depths of his own misery. Was it really true that his +religion could emit such results?</p> + +<p>There was a step on the stairs—a very heavy one—and Father Mahon +came in, a large, crimson-faced man, who seemed to fill the room with +a completely unethereal presence, and held out his hand with a certain +gravity. Laurie took it and dropped it.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, my dear boy," said the priest, and he impelled him gently +to a horsehair-covered arm-chair.</p> + +<p>Laurie stiffened.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, father; but I mustn't stay."</p> + +<p>He fumbled in his pocket, and fetched out a little paper-covered +packet.</p> + +<p>"Will you say Mass for my intention, please?" And he laid the packet +on the mantelshelf.</p> + +<p>The priest took up the coins and slipped them into his waistcoat +pocket.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he said. "I think I know—"</p> + +<p>Laurie turned away with a little jerk.</p> + +<p>"I must be going," he said. "I only looked in—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baxter," said the other, "I hope you will allow me to say how +much—"</p> + +<p>Laurie drew his breath swiftly, with a hiss as of pain, and glanced at +the priest.</p> + +<p>"You understand, then, what my intention is?"</p> + +<p>"Why, surely. It is for her soul, is it not?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said the boy, and went out.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_II" id="Chapter_II" /><i>Chapter II</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>"I have told him," said Mrs. Baxter, as the two women walked beneath +the yews that morning after breakfast. "He said he didn't mind."</p> + +<p>Maggie did not speak. She had come out just as she was, hatless, but +had caught up a spud that stood in the hall, and at that instant had +stopped to destroy a youthful plantain that had established himself +with infinite pains on the slope of the path. She attacked for a few +seconds, extricated what was possible of the root with her strong +fingers, tossed the corpse among the ivy, and then moved on.</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether to say anything to Mrs. Stapleton or not," +pursued the old lady.</p> + +<p>"I think I shouldn't, auntie," said the girl slowly.</p> + +<p>They spoke of it for a minute or two as they passed up and down, but +Maggie only attended with one superficies of her mind.</p> + +<p>She had gone up as usual to Mass that morning, and had been astonished +to find Laurie already in church; they had walked back together, and, +to her surprise, he had told her that the Mass had been for his own +intention.</p> + +<p>She had answered as well as she could; but a sentence or two of his as +they came near home had vaguely troubled her.</p> + +<p>It was not that he had said anything he ought not, as a Catholic, to +have said; yet her instinct told her that something was wrong. It was +his manner, his air, that troubled her. What strange people these +converts were! There was so much ardor at one time, so much chilliness +at another; there was so little of that steady workaday acceptance of +religious facts that marked the born Catholic.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Stapleton is a New Thought kind of person," she said presently.</p> + +<p>"So I understand," said the old lady, with a touch of peevishness. "A +vegetarian last year. And I believe she was a sort of Buddhist five or +six years ago. And then she nearly became a Christian Scientist a +little while ago."</p> + +<p>Maggie smiled.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what she'll talk about," she said.</p> + +<p>"I hope she won't be very advanced," went on the old lady. "And you +think I'd better not tell her about Laurie?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure it's best not," said the girl, "or she'll tell him about +Deep Breathing, or saying Om, or something. No; I should let Laurie +alone."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was a little before one o'clock that the motor arrived, and that +there descended from it at the iron gate a tall, slender woman, hooded +and veiled, who walked up the little path, observed by Maggie from her +bedroom, with a kind of whisking step. The motor moved on, wheeled in +through the gates at the left, and sank into silence in the +stable-yard.</p> + +<p>"It's too charming of you, dear Mrs. Baxter," Maggie heard as she came +into the drawing-room a minute or two later, "to let me come over like +this. I've heard so much about this house. Lady Laura was telling me +how very psychical it all was."</p> + +<p>"My adopted daughter, Miss Deronnais," observed the old lady.</p> + +<p>Maggie saw a rather pretty, passé face, triangular in shape, with +small red lips, looking at her, as she made her greetings.</p> + +<p>"Ah! how perfect all this is," went on the guest presently, looking +about her, "how suggestive, how full of meaning!"</p> + +<p>She threw back her cloak presently, and Maggie observed that she was +busy with various very beautiful little emblems—a scarab, a snake +swallowing its tail, and so forth—all exquisitely made, and hung upon +a slender chain of some green enamel-like material. Certainly she was +true to type. As the full light fell upon her it became plain that +this other-worldly soul did not disdain to use certain toilet +requisites upon her face; and a curious Eastern odor exhaled from her +dress.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, Maggie had a very deep sense of humor, and she hardly +resented all this at all, nor even the tactful hints dropped from time +to time, after the conventional part of the conversation was over, to +the effect that Christianity was, of course, played out, and that a +Higher Light had dawned. Mrs. Stapleton did not quite say this +outright, but it amounted to as much. Even before Laurie came +downstairs it appeared that the lady did not go to church, yet that, +such was her broad-mindedness, she did not at all object to do so. It +was all one, it seemed, in the Deeper Unity. Nothing particular was +true; but all was very suggestive and significant and symbolical of +something else to which Mrs. Stapleton and a few friends had the key.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter made more than one attempt to get back to more mundane +subjects, but it was useless. When even the weather serves as a +symbol, the plain man is done for.</p> + +<p>Then Laurie came in.</p> + +<p>He looked very self-contained and rather pinched this morning, and +shook hands with the lady without a word. Then they moved across +presently to the green-hung dining-room across the hall, and the +exquisite symbol of Luncheon made its appearance.</p> + +<p>Lady Laura, it appeared, was one of those who had felt the charm of +Stantons; only for her it was psychical rather than physical, and all +this was passed on by her friend. It seemed that the psychical +atmosphere of most modern houses was of a yellow tint, but that this +one emanated a brown-gold radiance which was very peculiar and +exceptional. Indeed, it was this singularity that had caused Mrs. +Stapleton to apply for an invitation to the house. More than once +during lunch, in a pause of the conversation, Maggie saw her throw +back her head slightly as if to appreciate some odor or color not +experienced by coarser-nerved persons. Once, indeed, she actually put +this into words.</p> + +<p>"Dear Laura was quite right," cried the lady; "there is something very +unique about this place. How fortunate you are, dear Mrs. Baxter!"</p> + +<p>"My dear husband's grandfather bought the place," observed the +mistress plaintively. "We have always found it very soothing and +pleasant."</p> + +<p>"How right you are! And—and have you had any experiences here?" +Mrs. Baxter eyed her in alarm. Maggie had an irrepressible burst of +internal laughter, which, however, gave no hint of its presence in her +steady features. She glanced at Laurie, who was eating mutton with a +depressed air.</p> + +<p>"I was talking to Mr. Vincent, the great spiritualist," went on the +other vivaciously, "only last week. You have heard of him, Mrs. +Baxter? I was suggesting to him that any place where great emotions +have been felt is colored and stained by them as objectively as old +walls are weather-beaten. I had such an interesting conversation, too, +with Cardinal Newman on the subject"—she smiled brilliantly at +Maggie, as if to reassure her of her own orthodoxy—"scarcely six +weeks ago."</p> + +<p>There was a pregnant silence. Mrs. Baxter's fork sank to her plate.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand," she said faintly. "Cardinal Newman—surely—"</p> + +<p>"Why yes," said the other gently. "I know it sounds very startling to +orthodox ears; but to us of the Higher Thought all these things are +quite familiar. Of course, I need hardly say that Cardinal Newman is +no longer—but perhaps I had better not go on."</p> + +<p>She glanced archly at Maggie.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please go on," said Maggie genially. "You were saying that +Cardinal Newman—"</p> + +<p>"Dear Miss Deronnais, are you sure you will not be offended?"</p> + +<p>"I am always glad to receive new light," said Maggie solemnly.</p> + +<p>The other looked at her doubtfully; but there was no hint of irony in +the girl's face.</p> + +<p>"Well," she began, "of course on the Other Side they see things very +differently. I don't mean at all that any religion is exactly untrue. +Oh no; they tell us that if we cannot welcome the New Light, then the +old lights will do very well for the present. Indeed, when there are +Catholics present Cardinal Newman does not scruple to give them a +Latin blessing—"</p> + +<p>"Is it true that he speaks with an American accent?" asked Maggie +gravely. The other laughed with a somewhat shrill geniality.</p> + +<p>"That is too bad, Miss Deronnais. Well, of course, the personality of +the medium affects the vehicle through which the communications come. +That is no difficulty at all when once you understand the principle—"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter interrupted. She could bear it no longer.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Stapleton. Do you mean that Cardinal Newman really speaks to +you?"</p> + +<p>"Why yes," said the other, with a patient indulgence. "That is a very +usual experience, but Mr. Vincent does much more than that. It is +quite a common experience not only to hear him, but to see him. I have +shaken hands with him more than once ... and I have seen a Catholic +kiss his ring."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter looked helplessly at the girl; and Maggie came to the +rescue once more. "This sounds rather advanced to us," she said. +"Won't you explain the principles first?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton laid her knife and fork down, leaned back, and began to +discourse. When a little later her plate was removed, she refused +sweets with a gesture, and continued.</p> + +<p>Altogether she spoke for about ten minutes, uninterrupted, enjoying +herself enormously. The others ate food or refused it in attentive +silence. Then at last she ended.</p> + +<p>"... I know all this must sound quite mad and fanatical to those who +have not experienced it; and yet to us who have been disciples it is +as natural to meet our friends who have crossed over as to meet those +who have not.... Dear Mrs. Baxter, think how all this enlarges life. +There is no longer any death to those who understand. All those +limitations are removed; it is no more than going into another +room. All are together in the Hands of the All-Father"—Maggie +recognized the jetsam of Christian Science. "'O death!' as Paul says, +'where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?'"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton flashed a radiant look of helpfulness round the faces, +lingering for an instant on Laurie's, and leaned back.</p> + +<p>There followed a silence.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go into the drawing-room?" suggested Mrs. Baxter, feebly +rising. The guest rose too, again with a brilliant patient smile, and +swept out. Maggie crossed herself and looked at Laurie. The boy had an +expression, half of disgust, half of interest, and his eyelids sank a +little and rose again. Then Maggie went out after the others.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>"A dreadful woman," observed Mrs. Baxter half an hour later, as the +two strolled back up the garden path, after seeing Mrs. Stapleton wave +a delicately gloved hand encouragingly to them over the back of the +throbbing motor.</p> + +<p>"I suppose she thinks she believes it all," said Maggie.</p> + +<p>"My dear, that woman would believe anything. I hope poor Laurie was +not too much distressed."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I think Laurie took it all right."</p> + +<p>"It was most unfortunate, all that about death and the rest.... Why, +here comes Laurie; I thought he would be gone out by now!"</p> + +<p>The boy strolled towards them round the corner of the house, tossing +away the fragment of his cigarette. He was still in his dark suit, +bareheaded, with no signs of riding about him.</p> + +<p>"So you've not gone out yet, dear boy?" remarked his mother.</p> + +<p>"Not yet," he said, and hesitated as they went on.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter noticed it.</p> + +<p>"I'll go and get ready," she said. "The carriage will be round at +three, Maggie."</p> + +<p>When she was gone the two moved out together on to the lawn.</p> + +<p>"What did you think of that woman?" demanded Laurie with a detached +air.</p> + +<p>Maggie glanced at him. His tone was a little too much detached.</p> + +<p>"I thought her quite dreadful," she said frankly. "Didn't you?" she +added.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I suppose so," said Laurie. He drew out a cigarette and +lighted it. "You know a lot of people think there's something in it," +he said.</p> + +<p>"In what?"</p> + +<p>"Spiritualism."</p> + +<p>"I daresay," said Maggie.</p> + +<p>She perceived out of the corner of her eye that Laurie looked at her +suddenly and sharply. For herself, she loathed what little she knew of +the subject, so cordially and completely, that she could hardly have +put it into words. Nine-tenths of it she believed to be fraud—a +matter of wigs and Indian muslin and cross-lights—and the other +tenth, by the most generous estimate, an affair of the dingiest and +foulest of all the backstairs of life. The prophetic outpourings of +Mrs. Stapleton had not altered her opinion.</p> + +<p>"Oh! if you feel like that—" went on Laurie.</p> + +<p>She turned on him.</p> + +<p>"Laurie," she said, "I think it perfectly detestable. I acknowledge I +don't know much about it; but what little I do know is enough, thank +you."</p> + +<p>Laurie smiled in a faintly patronizing way.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said indulgently, "if you think that, it's not much use +discussing it."</p> + +<p>"Indeed it's not," said Maggie, with her nose in the air.</p> + +<p>There was not much more to be said; and the sounds of stamping and +whoaing in the stable-yard presently sent the girl indoors in a hurry.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter was still mildly querulous during the drive. It appeared +to her, Maggie perceived, a kind of veiled insult that things should +be talked about in her house which did not seem to fit in with her own +scheme of the universe. Mrs. Baxter knew perfectly well that every +soul when it left this world went either to what she called Paradise, +or in extremely exceptional cases, to a place she did not name; and +that these places, each in its own way, entirely absorbed the +attention of its inhabitants. Further, it was established in her view +that all the members of the spiritual world, apart from the unhappy +ones, were a kind of Anglicans, with their minds no doubt enlarged +considerably, but on the original lines.</p> + +<p>Tales like this of Cardinal Newman therefore were extremely tiresome +and upsetting.</p> + +<p>And Maggie had her theology also; to her also it appeared quite +impossible that Cardinal Newman should frequent the drawing-room of +Mr. Vincent in order to exchange impressions with Mrs. Stapleton; but +she was more elementary in her answer. For her the thing was simply +untrue; and that was the end of it. She found it difficult therefore +to follow her companion's train of thought.</p> + +<p>"What was it she said?" demanded Mrs. Baxter presently. "I didn't +understand her ideas about materialism."</p> + +<p>"I think she called it materialization," explained Maggie patiently. +"She said that when things were very favorable, and the medium a very +good one, the soul that wanted to communicate could make a kind of +body for itself out of what she called the astral matter of the medium +or the sitters."</p> + +<p>"But surely our bodies aren't like that?"</p> + +<p>"No; I can't say that I think they are. But that's what she said."</p> + +<p>"My dear, please explain. I want to understand the woman."</p> + +<p>Maggie frowned a little.</p> + +<p>"Well, the first thing she said was that those souls want to +communicate; and that they begin generally by things like +table-rapping, or making blue lights. Then when you know they're +there, they can go further. Sometimes they gain control of the medium +who is in a trance, and speak through him, or write with his hand. +Then, if things are favorable, they begin to draw out this matter, and +make it into a kind of body for themselves, very thin and ethereal, so +that you can pass your hand through it. Then, as things get better and +better, they go further still, and can make this body so solid that +you can touch it; only this is sometimes rather dangerous, as it is +still, in a sort of way, connected with the medium. I think that's the +idea."</p> + +<p>"But what's the good of it all?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, Mrs. Stapleton thinks that they really are souls from +the other world, and that they can tell us all kinds of things about +it all, and what's true, and so on."</p> + +<p>"But you don't believe that?"</p> + +<p>Maggie turned her large eyes on the old lady; and a spark of humor +rose and glimmered in them.</p> + +<p>"Of course I don't," she said.</p> + +<p>"Then how do you explain it?"</p> + +<p>"I think it's probably all a fraud. But I really don't know. It +doesn't seem to me to matter much—"</p> + +<p>"But if it should be true?"</p> + +<p>Maggie raised her eyebrows, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Dear auntie, do put it out of your head. How can it possibly be +true?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter set her lips in as much severity as she could.</p> + +<p>"I shall ask the Vicar," she said. "We might stop at the Vicarage on +the way back."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter did not often stop at the Vicarage; as she did not +altogether approve of the Vicar's wife. There was a good deal of pride +in the old lady, and it seemed to her occasionally as if Mrs. Rymer +did not understand the difference between the Hall and the Parsonage. +She envied sometimes, secretly, the Romanist idea of celibacy: it was +so much easier to get on with your spiritual adviser if you did not +have to consider his wife. But here, was a matter which a clergyman +must settle for her once and for all; so she put on a slight air of +dignity which became her very well, and a little after four o'clock +the Victoria turned up the steep little drive that led to the +Vicarage.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>Thee dusk was already fallen before Laurie, strolling vaguely in the +garden, heard the carriage wheels draw up at the gate outside.</p> + +<p>He had ridden again alone, and his mind had run, to a certain extent, +as might be expected, upon the recent guest and her very startling +conversation. He was an intelligent young man, and he had not been in +the least taken in by her pseudo-mystical remarks. Yet there had been +something in her extreme assurance that had affected him, as a man may +smile sourly at a good story in bad taste. His attitude, in fact, was +that of most Christians under the circumstances. He did not, for an +instant, believe that such things really and literally happened, and +yet it was difficult to advance any absolutely conclusive argument +against them. Merely, they had not come his way; they appeared to +conflict with experience, and they usually found as their advocates +such persons as Mrs. Stapleton.</p> + +<p>Two things, however, prevailed to keep the matter before his mind. +The first was his own sense of loss, his own experience, sore and hot +within him, of the unapproachable emptiness of death; the second, +Maggie's attitude. When a plainly sensible and controlled young woman +takes up a position of superiority, she is apt, unless the young man +in her company happens to be in love with her—and sometimes even when +he is—to provoke and irritate him into a camp of opposition. She is +still more apt to do so if her relations to him have once been in the +line of even greater tenderness.</p> + +<p>Laurie then was not in the most favorable of moods to receive the +dicta of the Vicar.</p> + +<p>They were announced to him immediately after Mrs. Baxter had received +from Maggie's hands her first cup of tea.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Rymer tells me it's all nonsense," she said.</p> + +<p>Laurie looked up.</p> + +<p>"What?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Rymer tells me Spiritualism is all nonsense. He told me about +someone called Eglingham, who kept a beard in his portmanteau."</p> + +<p>"Eglinton, I think, auntie," put in Maggie.</p> + +<p>"I daresay, my dear. Anyhow, it's all the same. I felt sure it must be +so." Laurie took a bun, with a thoughtful air.</p> + +<p>"Does Mr. Rymer know very much about it, do you think, mother?"</p> + +<p>"Dear boy, I think he knows all that anyone need know. Besides, if you +come to think of it, how could Cardinal Newman possibly appear in a +drawing-room? Particularly when Mrs. Stapleton says he isn't a +Christian any longer."</p> + +<p>This had a possible and rather pleasing double interpretation; but +Laurie decided it was not worth while to be humorous.</p> + +<p>"What about the Witch of Endor?" he asked innocently, instead.</p> + +<p>"That was in the Old Testament," answered his mother rapidly. "Mr. +Rymer said something about that too."</p> + +<p>"Oh! wasn't it really Samuel who appeared?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Rymer thinks that things were permitted then that are not +permitted now."</p> + +<p>Laurie drank up his cup of tea. It is a humiliating fact that extreme +grief often renders the mourner rather cross. There was a distinct air +of crossness about Laurie at this moment. His nerves were very near +the top.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's very convenient," he said. "Maggie, do you know if +there's any book on Spiritualism in the house?"</p> + +<p>The girl glanced uneasily near the fire-place.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she said. "Yes; I think there's something up there. I +believe I saw it the other day."</p> + +<p>Laurie rose and stood opposite the shelves.</p> + +<p>"What color is it? (No, no more tea, thanks.)"</p> + +<p>"Er ... black and red, I think," said the girl. "I forget."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him, faintly uneasy, as he very deliberately drew +down a book from the shelf and turned the pages.</p> + +<p>"Yes ... this is it," he said. "Thanks very much.... No, really no +more tea, thanks, mother."</p> + +<p>Then he went to the door, with his easy, rather long steps, and +disappeared. They heard his steps in the inner hall. Then a door +closed overhead.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter contentedly poured herself out another cup of tea.</p> + +<p>"Poor boy," she said. "He's thinking of that girl still. I'm glad he's +got something to occupy his mind."</p> + +<p>The end room, on the first floor, was Laurie's possession. It was a +big place, with two windows, and a large open fire, and he had +skillfully masked the fact that it was a bedroom by disposing his +furniture, with the help of a screen, in such a manner as completely +to hide the bed and the washing arrangements.</p> + +<p>The rest of the room he had furnished in a pleasing male kind of +fashion, with a big couch drawn across the fire, a writing-table and +chairs, a deep easy chair near the door, and a long, high bookcase +covering the wall between the door and the windows. His college oar, +too, hung here, and there were pleasant groups and pictures scattered +on the other walls.</p> + +<p>Maggie did not often come in here, except by invitation, but about +seven o'clock on this evening, half an hour before she had to go and +dress, she thought she would look in on him for a few minutes. She was +still a little uncomfortable; she did not quite know why: it was too +ridiculous, she told, herself, that a sensible boy like Laurie could +be seriously affected by what she considered the wicked nonsense of +Spiritualism.</p> + +<p>Yet she went, telling herself that Laurie's grief was an excuse for +showing him a little marked friendliness. Besides, she would like to +ask him whether he was really going back to town on Thursday.</p> + +<p>She tapped twice before an answer came; and then it seemed a rather +breathless voice which spoke.</p> + +<p>The boy was sitting bolt upright on the edge of the sofa, with a +couple of candles at his side, and the book in his hands. There was a +strained and intensely interested look in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"May I come in for a few minutes? It's nearly dressing time," she +said.</p> + +<p>"Oh—er—certainly."</p> + +<p>He got up, rather stiffly, still keeping his place in the book with +one finger, while she sat down. Then he too sat again, and there was +silence for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Why, you're not smoking," she said.</p> + +<p>"I forgot. I will now, if you don't mind!"</p> + +<p>She saw his fingers tremble a little as he put out his hand to a box +of cigarettes at his side. But he put the book down, after looking at +the page.</p> + +<p>She could keep her question in no longer.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of that," she said, nodding at the book.</p> + +<p>He filled his lungs with smoke and exhaled again slowly.</p> + +<p>"I think it's extraordinary," he said shortly.</p> + +<p>"In what way?"</p> + +<p>Again he paused before answering. Then he answered deliberately.</p> + +<p>"If human evidence is worth anything, those things happen," he said.</p> + +<p>"What things?"</p> + +<p>"The dead return."</p> + +<p>Maggie looked at him, aware of his deliberate attempt at dramatic +brevity. He was watching the end of his cigarette with elaborate +attention, and his face had that white, rather determined look that +she had seen on it once or twice before, in the presence of a domestic +crisis.</p> + +<p>"Do you really mean you believe that?" she said, with a touch of +careful bitterness in her voice.</p> + +<p>"I do," he said, "or else—"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Or else human evidence is worth nothing at all."</p> + +<p>Maggie understood him perfectly; but she realized that this was not an +occasion to force issues. She still put the tone of faint irony into +her voice.</p> + +<p>"You really believe that Cardinal Newman comes to Mr. Vincent's +drawing room and raps on tables?"</p> + +<p>"I really believe that it is possible to get into touch with those +whom we call dead. Each instance, of course, depends on its own +evidence."</p> + +<p>"And Cardinal Newman?"</p> + +<p>"I have not studied the evidence for Cardinal Newman," remarked Laurie +in a head-voice.</p> + +<p>"Let's have a look at that book," said Maggie impulsively.</p> + +<p>He handed it to her; and she began to turn the pages, pausing now and +again to read a particular paragraph, and once for nearly a minute +while she examined an illustration. Certainly the book seemed +interestingly written, and she read an argument or two that appeared +reasonably presented. Yet she was extraordinarily repelled even by the +dead paper and ink she had in her hands. It was as if it was something +obscene. Finally she tossed it back on to the couch.</p> + +<p>Laurie waited; but she said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he asked at last, still refraining from looking at her.</p> + +<p>"I think it's horrible," she said.</p> + +<p>Laurie delicately adjusted a little tobacco protruding from his +cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that a little unreasonable?" he asked. "You've hardly looked at +it yet."</p> + +<p>Maggie knew this mood of his only too well. He reserved it for +occasions when he was determined to fight. Argument was a useless +weapon against it.</p> + +<p>"My dear boy," she said with an effort, "I'm sorry. I daresay it is +unreasonable. But that kind of thing does seem to me so disgusting. +That's all.... I didn't come to talk about that.... Tell me—"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you?" said Laurie.</p> + +<p>Maggie was silent.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Well—yes I did. But I don't want to any more."</p> + +<p>Laurie smiled so that it might be seen.</p> + +<p>"Well, what else did you want to say?" He glanced purposely at the +book. Maggie ignored his glance.</p> + +<p>"I just came to see how you were getting on."</p> + +<p>"How do you mean? With the book?"</p> + +<p>"No; in every way."</p> + +<p>He looked up at her swiftly and suddenly, and she saw that his agony +of sorrow was acute beneath all his attempts at superiority, his +courteous fractiousness, and his set face. She was filled suddenly +with an enormous pity.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Laurie, I'm so sorry," she cried out. "Can't I do anything?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, thanks; nothing at all," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>Again pity and misery surged up within her, and she cast all prudence +to the winds. She had not realized how fond she was of this boy till +she saw once more that look in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Laurie, you know I didn't like it; but—but I don't know what to +do, I'm so sorry. But don't spoil it all," she said wildly, hardly +knowing what she feared.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon?"</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean. Don't spoil it, by—by fancying things."</p> + +<p>"Maggie," said the boy quietly, "you must let me alone. You can't +help."</p> + +<p>"Can't I?"</p> + +<p>"You can't help," he repeated. "I must go my own way. Please don't say +any more. I can't stand it."</p> + +<p>There followed a dead silence. Then Maggie recovered and stood up. He +rose with her.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Laurie, won't you? I must say this. You'll remember I'll +always do anything I can, won't you?"</p> + +<p>Then she was gone.</p> + + +<h2>IV</h2> + +<p>The ladies went to bed early at Stantons. At ten o'clock precisely a +clinking of bedroom candlesticks was heard in the hall, followed by +the sound of locking doors. This was the signal. Mrs. Baxter laid +aside her embroidery with the punctuality of a religious at the sound +of a bell, and said two words—</p> + +<p>"My dears."</p> + +<p>There were occasionally exclamatory expostulations from the two at the +piquet-table, but in nine cases out of ten the game had been designed +with an eye upon the clock, and hardly any delay followed. Mrs. Baxter +kissed her son, and passed her arm through Maggie's. Laurie followed; +gave them candles, and generally took one himself.</p> + +<p>But this evening there was no piquet. Laurie had stayed later than +usual in the dining-room, and had wandered rather restlessly about +when he had joined the others. He looked at a London evening paper for +a little, paced about, vanished again, and only returned as the ladies +were making ready to depart. Then he gave them their candlesticks, and +himself came back to the drawing room.</p> + +<p>He was, in fact, in a far more perturbed and excited mood than even +Maggie had had any idea of. She had interrupted him half-way through +the book, but he had read again steadily until five minutes before +dinner, and had, indeed, gone back again to finish it afterwards. He +had now finished it; and he wanted to think.</p> + +<p>It had had a surprising effect on him, coming as it did upon a state +of mind intensely stirred to its depths by his sorrow. Crossness, as I +have said, had been the natural psychological result of his emotions; +but his emotions were none the less real. The froth of whipped cream +is real cream, after all.</p> + +<p>Now Laurie had seen perfectly well the extreme unconvincingness of +Mrs. Stapleton, and had been genuine enough in his little shrug of +disapproval in answer to Maggie's, after lunch; yet that lady's +remarks had been sufficient just to ignite the train of thought. This +train had smoldered in the afternoon, had been fanned ever so slightly +by two breezes—the sense of Maggie's superiority and the faint +rebellious reaction which had come upon him with regard to his +personal religion. Certainly he had had Mass said for Amy this +morning; but it had been by almost a superstitious rather than a +religious instinct. He was, in fact, in that state of religious +unreality which occasionally comes upon converts within a year or two +of the change of their faith. The impetus of old association is +absent, and the force of novelty has died.</p> + +<p>Underneath all this then, it must be remembered that the one thing +that was intensely real to him was his sense of loss of the one soul +in whom his own had been wrapped up. Even this afternoon as yesterday, +even this morning as he lay awake, he had been conscious of an +irresistible impulse to demand some sign, to catch some glimpse of +that which was now denied to him.</p> + +<p>It was in this mood that he had read the book; and it is not to be +wondered at that he had been excited by it.</p> + +<p>For it opened up to him, beneath all its sham mysticism, its +intolerable affectations, its grotesque parody of spirituality—of all +of which he was largely aware—a glimmering avenue of a faintly +possible hope of which he had never dreamed—a hope, at least, of that +half self-deception which is so tempting to certain characters.</p> + +<p>Here, in this book, written by a living man, whose name and address +were given, were stories so startling, and theories so apparently +consonant with themselves and with other partly known facts—stories +and theories, too, which met so precisely his own overmastering +desire, that it is little wonder that he was affected by them.</p> + +<p>Naturally, even during his reading, a thousand answers and adverse +comments had sprung to his mind—suggestions of fraud, of lying, of +hallucination—but yet, here the possibility remained. Here were +living men and women who, with the usual complement of senses and +reason, declared categorically and in detail, that on this and that +date, in this place and the other, after having taken all possible +precautions against fraud, they had received messages from the +dead—messages of which the purport was understood by none but +themselves—that they had seen with their eyes, in sufficient light, +the actual features of the dead whom they loved, that they had even +clasped their hands, and held for an instant the bodies of those whom +they had seen die with their own eyes, and buried.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When the ladies' footsteps had ceased to sound overhead, Laurie went +to the French window, opened it, and passed on to the lawn.</p> + +<p>He was astonished at the warmth of the September night. The little +wind that had been chilly this afternoon had dropped with the coming +of the dark, and high overhead he could see the great masses of the +leaves motionless against the sky. He passed round the house, and +beneath the yews, and sat down on the garden bench.</p> + +<p>It was darker here than outside on the lawn. Beneath his feet were the +soft needles from the trees, and above him, as he looked out, still +sunk in his thought, he could see the glimmer of a star or two between +the branches.</p> + +<p>It was a fragrant, kindly night. From the hamlet of half a dozen +houses beyond the garden came no sound; and the house, too, was still +behind him. An illuminated window somewhere on the first floor went +out as he looked at it, like a soul leaving a body; once a sleepy bird +somewhere in the shrubbery chirped to its mate and was silent again.</p> + +<p>Then as he still labored in argument, putting this against that, and +weighing that against the other, his emotion rose up in an +irresistible torrent, and all consideration ceased. One thing +remained: he must have Amy, or he must die.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was five or six minutes before he moved again from that attitude of +clenched hands and tensely strung muscles into which his sudden +passion had cast him.</p> + +<p>During those minutes he had willed with his whole power that she +should come to him now and here, down in this warm and fragrant +darkness, hidden from all eyes—in this sweet silence, round which +sleep kept its guard. Such things had happened before; such things +must have happened, for the will and the love of man are the mightiest +forces in creation. Surely again and again it had happened; there must +be somewhere in the world man after man who had so called back the +dead—a husband sobbing silently in the dark, a child wailing for his +mother; surely that force had before, in the world's history, willed +back again from the mysterious dark of space the dear personality that +was all that even heaven could give, had even compelled into a +semblance of life some sort of body to clothe it in. These things must +have happened—only secrets had been well kept.</p> + +<p>So this boy had willed it; yet the dark had remained empty; and no +shadow, no faintly outlined face, had even for an instant blotted out +the star on which he stared; no touch on his shoulder, no whisper in +his ear. It had seemed as he strove there, in the silence, that it +must be done; that there was no limit to power concentrated and +intense. Yet it had not happened....</p> + +<p>Once he had shuddered a little; and the very shudder of fear had had +in it a touch of delicious, trembling expectation. Yet it had not +happened.</p> + +<p>Laurie relaxed his muscles therefore, let his breath exhale in a long +sigh, and once more remembered the book he had read and Mrs. +Stapleton's feverish, self-conscious thought.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later his mother, listening in her bed, heard his +footsteps pass her room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_III" id="Chapter_III" /><i>Chapter III</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>Lady Laura Bethell, spinster, had just returned to her house in +Queen's Gate, with her dearest friend, Mrs. Stapleton, for a few days +of psychical orgy. It was in her house, as much as in any in London, +that the modern prophets were to be met with—severe-looking women in +shapeless dresses, little men and big, with long hair and cloaks; and +it was in her drawing-room that tea and Queen cakes were dispensed to +inquirers, and papers read and discussed when the revels were over.</p> + +<p>Lady Laura herself was not yet completely emancipated from what her +friends sometimes called the grave-clothes of so-called Revelation. +To her it seemed a profound truth that things could be true and untrue +simultaneously—that what might be facts on This Side, as she would +have expressed it, might be falsehoods on the Other. She was +accustomed, therefore, to attend All Saints', Carlton Gardens, in the +morning, and psychical drawing-rooms or halls in the evening, and to +declare to her friends how beautifully the one aspect illuminated and +interpreted the other.</p> + +<p>For the rest, she was a small, fair-haired woman, with penciled dark +eyebrows, a small aquiline nose, gold pince-nez, and an exquisite +taste in dress.</p> + +<p>The two were seated this Tuesday evening, a week after +Mrs. Stapleton's visit to the Stantons, in the drawing-room of the +Queen's Gate house, over the remnants of what corresponded to +five-o'clock tea. I say "corresponded," since both of them were +sufficiently advanced to have renounced actual tea altogether. Mrs. +Stapleton partook of a little hot water out of a copper-jacketed jug; +her hostess of boiled milk. They shared their Plasmon biscuits +together. These things were considered important for those who would +successfully find the Higher Light.</p> + +<p>At this instant they were discussing Mr. Vincent.</p> + +<p>"Dearest, he seems to me so different from the others," mewed Lady +Laura. "He is such a man, you know. So often those others are not +quite like men at all; they wear such funny clothes, and their hair +always is so queer, somehow."</p> + +<p>"Darling, I know what you mean. Yes, there's a great deal of that +about James Vincent. Even dear Tom was almost polite to him: he +couldn't bear the others: he said that he always thought they were +going to paw him."</p> + +<p>"And then his powers," continued Lady Laura—"his powers always seem +to me so much greater. The magnetism is so much more evident."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton finished her hot water.</p> + +<p>"We are going on Sunday?" she said questioningly.</p> + +<p>"Yes; just a small party. And he comes here tomorrow, you remember, +just for a talk. I have asked a clergyman I know in to meet him. It +seems to me such a pity that our religious teachers should know so +little of what is going on."</p> + +<p>"Who is he?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Jamieson ... just a young clergyman I met in the summer. I +promised to let him know the next time Mr. Vincent came to me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton murmured her gratification.</p> + +<p>These two had really a great deal in common besides their faith. It is +true that Mrs. Stapleton was forty, and her friend but thirty-one; but +the former did all that was possible to compensate for this by adroit +toilette tactics. Both, too, were accustomed to dress in soft +materials, with long chains bearing various emblems; they did their +hair in the same way; they cultivated the same kinds of tones in their +voices—a purring, mewing manner—suggestive of intuitive kittens. +Both alike had a passion for proselytism. But after that the +differences began. There was a deal more in Mrs. Stapleton besides the +kittenish qualities. She was perfectly capable of delivering a speech +in public; she had written some really well-expressed articles in +various Higher periodicals; and she had a will-power beyond the +ordinary. At the point where Lady Laura began to deprecate and soothe, +Mrs. Stapleton began to clear decks for action, so to speak, to be +incisive, to be fervent, even to be rather eloquent. She kept "dear +Tom," the Colonel, not crushed or beaten, for that was beyond the +power of man to do, but at least silently acquiescent in her program: +he allowed her even to entertain her prophetical friends at his +expense, now and then; and, even when among men, refrained from too +bitter speech. It was said by the Colonel's friends that Mrs. Colonel +had a tongue of her own. Certainly, she ruled her house well and did +her duty; and it was only because of her husband's absence in Scotland +that during this time she was permitting herself the refreshment of a +week or two among the Illuminated.</p> + +<p>At about six o'clock Lady Laura announced her intention of retiring +for her evening meditation. Opening out of her bedroom was a small +dressing-room that she had fitted up for this purpose with all the +broad suggestiveness that marks the Higher Thought: decked with +ornaments emblematical of at least three religions, and provided with +a faldstool and an exceedingly easy chair. It was here that she was +accustomed to spend an hour before dinner, with closed eyes, +emancipating herself from the fetters of sense; and rising to a due +appreciation of that Nothingness that was All, from which All came and +to which it retired.</p> + +<p>"I must go, dearest; it is time."</p> + +<p>A ring at the bell below made her pause.</p> + +<p>"Do you think that can be Mr. Vincent?" she said, pleasantly +apprehensive. "It's not the right day, but one never knows."</p> + +<p>A footman's figure entered.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baxter, my lady.... Is your ladyship at home?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baxter—"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton rose.</p> + +<p>"Let me see him instead, dearest.... You remember ... from Stantons."</p> + +<p>"I wonder what he wants?" murmured the hostess. "Yes, do see him, +Maud; you can always fetch me if it's anything."</p> + +<p>Then she was gone. Mrs. Stapleton sank into a chair again; and in a +minute Laurie was shaking hands with her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton was accustomed to deal with young men, and through long +habit had learned how to flatter them without appearing to do so. +Laurie's type, however, was less familiar to her. She preferred the +kind that grow their hair rather long and wear turn-down collars, and +have just found out the hopeless banality of all orthodoxy whatever. +She even bore with them when they called themselves unmoral. But she +remembered Laurie, the silent boy at lunch last week, she had even +mentioned him to Lady Laura, and received information about the +village girl, more or less correct. She was also aware that he was a +Catholic.</p> + +<p>She gave him her hand without rising.</p> + +<p>"Lady Laura asked me to excuse her absence to you, Mr. Baxter. To be +quite truthful, she is at home, but had just gone upstairs for her +meditation."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you know; we think that so important, just as you do. Do sit +down, Mr. Baxter. You have had tea?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, thanks."</p> + +<p>"I hope she will be down before you go. I don't think she'll be very +long this evening. Can I give her any message, Mr. Baxter, in case you +don't see her?"</p> + +<p>Laurie put his hat and stick down carefully, and crossed his legs.</p> + +<p>"No; I don't think so, thanks," he said. "The fact is, I came partly +to find out your address, if I might."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton rustled and rearranged herself.</p> + +<p>"Oh! but that's charming of you," she said. "Is there anything +particular?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Laurie slowly; "at least it seems rather particular to me. +It's what you were talking about the other day."</p> + +<p>"Now how nice of you to say that! Do you know, I was wondering as we +talked. Now do tell me exactly what is in your mind, Mr. Baxter."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton was conscious of a considerable sense of pleasure. +Usually she found this kind of man very imperceptive and gross. Laurie +seemed perfectly at his ease, dressed quite in the proper way, and had +an air of presentableness that usually only went with Philistinism. +She determined to do her best.</p> + +<p>"May I speak quite freely, please?" he asked, looking straight at her.</p> + +<p>"Please, please," she said, with that touch of childish intensity that +her friends thought so innocent and beautiful.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's like this," said Laurie. "I've always rather disliked all +that kind of thing, more than I can say. It did seem to me +so—well—so feeble, don't you know; and then I'm a Catholic, you see, +and so—"</p> + +<p>"Yes; yes?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I've been reading Mr. Stainton Moses, and one or two other +books; and I must say that an awful lot of it seems to me still great +rubbish; and then there are any amount of frauds, aren't there, Mrs. +Stapleton, in that line?"</p> + +<p>"Alas! Ah, yes!"</p> + +<p>"But then I don't know what to make of some of the evidence that +remains. It seems to me that if evidence is worth anything at all, +there must be something real at the back of it all. And then, if that +is so, if it really is true that it is possible to get into actual +touch with people who are dead—I mean really and truly, so that +there's no kind of doubt about it—well, that does seem to me about +the most important thing in the world. Do you see?"</p> + +<p>She kept her eyes on his face for an instant or two. Plainly he was +really moved; his face had gone a little white in the lamplight and +his hands were clasped tightly enough over his knee to whiten the +knuckles. She remembered Lady Laura's remarks about the village girl, +and understood. But she perceived that she must not attempt intimacy +just yet with this young man: he would resent it. Besides, she was +shrewd enough to see by his manner that he did not altogether like +her.</p> + +<p>She nodded pensively once or twice. Then she turned to him with a +bright smile. "I understand entirely," she said. "May I too speak +quite freely? Yes? Well, I am so glad you have spoken out. Of course, +we are quite accustomed to being distrusted and feared. After all, it +is the privilege of all truth-seekers to suffer, is it not? Well, I +will say what is in my heart.</p> + +<p>"First, you are quite right about some of our workers being dishonest +sometimes. They are, Mr. Baxter, I have seen more than one, myself, +exposed. But that is natural, is it not? Why, there have been bad +Catholics, too, have there not? And, after all, we are only human; and +there is a great temptation sometimes not to send people away +disappointed. You have heard those stories, I expect, Mr. Baxter?"</p> + +<p>"I have heard of Mr. Eglinton."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Poor Willie.... Yes. But he had great powers, for all that.... +Well, but the point you want to get at is this, is it not? Is it +really true, underneath it all? Is that it?"</p> + +<p>Laurie nodded, looking at her steadily. She leaned forward.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baxter, by all that I hold most sacred, I assure you that it is, +that I myself have seen and touched ... <i>touched</i> ... my own father, +who crossed over twenty years ago. I have received messages from his +own lips ... and communications in other ways too, concerning matters +only known to him and to myself. Is that sufficient? No"; (she held up +a delicate silencing hand) "... no, I will not ask you to take my +word. I will ask you to test it for yourself."</p> + +<p>Laurie too leaned forward now in his low chair, his hands clasped +between his knees.</p> + +<p>"You will—you will let me test it?" he said in a low voice.</p> + +<p>She sat back easily, pushing her draperies straight. She was in some +fine silk that fell straight from her high slender waist to her +copper-colored shoes.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Mr. Baxter. Tomorrow there is coming to this house certainly +the greatest medium in London, if not in Europe. (Of course we cannot +compete with the East. We are only children beside them.) Well, this +man, Mr. Vincent—I think I spoke of him to you last week—he is +coming here just for a talk to one or two friends. There shall be no +difficulty if you wish it. I will speak to Lady Laura before you go."</p> + +<p>Laurie looked at her without moving.</p> + +<p>"I shall be very much obliged," he said. "You will remember that I am +not yet in the least convinced? I only want to know."</p> + +<p>"That is exactly the right attitude. That is all we have any right to +ask. We do not ask for blind faith, Mr. Baxter—only for believing +after having seen."</p> + +<p>Laurie nodded slowly.</p> + +<p>"That seems to me reasonable," he said.</p> + +<p>There was silence for a moment. Then she determined on a bold stroke.</p> + +<p>"There is someone in particular—Mr. Baxter—forgive me for +asking—someone who has passed over—?"</p> + +<p>She sank her voice to what she had been informed was a sympathetic +tone, and was scarcely prepared for the sudden tightening of that +face.</p> + +<p>"That is my affair, Mrs. Stapleton."</p> + +<p>Ah well, she had been premature. She would fetch Lady Laura, she said; +she thought she might venture for such a purpose. No, she would not be +away three minutes. Then she rustled out.</p> + +<p>Laurie went to the fire to wait, and stood there, mechanically warming +his hands and staring down at that sleeping core of red coal.</p> + +<p>He had taken his courage in both hands in coming at all. In spite of +his brave words to Maggie, he had been conscious of a curious +repulsion with regard to the whole matter—a repulsion not only of +contempt towards the elaborate affectations of the woman he had +determined to consult. Yet he had come.</p> + +<p>What he had said just now had been perfectly true. He was not yet in +the least convinced, but he was anxious, intensely and passionately +anxious, goaded too by desire.</p> + +<p>Ah! surely it was absurd and fantastic—here in London, in this +century. He turned and faced the lamp-lit room, letting his eyes +wander round the picture-hung walls, the blue stamped paper, the +Empire furniture, the general appearance of beautiful comfort and sane +modern life. It was absurd and fantastic; he would be disappointed +again, as he had been disappointed in everything else. These things +did not happen—the dead did not return. Step by step those things +that for centuries had been deemed evidence of the supernatural, one +by one had been explained and discounted. Hypnotism, water divining, +witchcraft, and the rest. All these had once been believed to be +indisputable proofs of a life beyond the grave, of strange supernormal +personalities, and these, one by one, had been either accounted for or +discredited. It was mad of him to be alarmed or excited. No, he would +go through with it, expecting nothing, hoping nothing. But he would +just go through with it to satisfy himself....</p> + +<p>The door opened, and the two ladies came in.</p> + +<p>"I am delighted that you called, Mr. Baxter; and on such an errand!"</p> + +<p>Lady Laura put out a hand, tremulous with pleasure at welcoming a +possible disciple.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Stapleton has explained—" began Laurie.</p> + +<p>"I understand everything. You come as a skeptic—no, not as a skeptic, +but as an inquirer, that is all that we wish.... Then tomorrow, at +about half-past four."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IV" id="Chapter_IV" /><i>Chapter IV</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>It was a mellow October afternoon, glowing towards sunset, as Laurie +came across the south end of the park to his appointment next day; and +the effect of it upon his mind was singularly unsuggestive of +supernatural mystery. Instead, the warm sky, the lights beginning to +peep here and there, though an hour before sunset, turned him rather +in the direction of the natural and the domestic.</p> + +<p>He wondered what his mother and Maggie would say if they knew his +errand, for he had sufficient self-control not to have told them of +his intentions. As regards his mother he did not care very much. Of +course she would deprecate it and feebly dissuade; but he recognized +that there was no particular principle behind, beyond a sense of +discomfort at the unknown. But it was necessary for him to argue with +himself about Maggie. The angry kind of contempt that he knew she +would feel needed an answer; and he gave it by reminding himself that +she had been brought up in a convent-school, that she knew nothing of +the world, and that, lastly, he himself did not take the matter +seriously. He was aware, too, that the instinctive repulsion that she +felt so keenly found a certain echo in his own feelings; but he +explained this by the novelty of the thing.</p> + +<p>In fact, the attitude of mind in which he more or less succeeded in +arraying himself was that of one who goes to see a serious conjurer. +It would be rather fun, he thought, to see a table dancing. But there +was not wholly wanting that inexplicable tendency of some natures +deliberately to deceive themselves on what lies nearest to their +hearts.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent had not yet arrived when he was shown upstairs, even +though Laurie himself was late. (This was partly deliberate. He +thought it best to show a little nonchalance.) There was only a young +clergyman in the room with the ladies; and the two were introduced.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baxter—Mr. Jamieson."</p> + +<p>He seemed a harmless young man, thought Laurie, and plainly a little +nervous at the situation in which he found himself, as might a +greyhound carry himself in a kennel of well-bred foxhounds. He was +very correctly dressed, with Roman collar and stock, and obviously had +not long left a theological college. He had an engaging kind of +courtesy, ecclesiastically cut features, and curly black hair. He sat +balancing a delicate cup adroitly on his knee.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Jamieson is so anxious to know all that is going on," explained +Lady Laura, with a voluble frankness. "He thinks it so necessary to be +abreast of the times, as he said to me the other day."</p> + +<p>Laurie assented, grimly pitying the young man for his indiscreet +confidences. The clergyman looked priggish in his efforts not to do +so.</p> + +<p>"He has a class of young men on Sundays," continued the +hostess—"(Another biscuit, Maud darling?)—whom he tries to interest +in all modern movements. He thinks it so important."</p> + +<p>Mr. Jamieson cleared his throat in a virile manner.</p> + +<p>"Just so," he said; "exactly so."</p> + +<p>"And so I told him he must really come and meet Mr. Vincent.... I +can't think why he is so late; but he has so many calls upon his time, +that I am sure I wonder—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent," announced the footman.</p> + +<p>A rather fine figure of a man came forward into the room, dressed in +much better taste than Laurie somehow had expected, and not at all +like the type of an insane dissenting minister in broadcloth which he +had feared. Instead, it was a big man that he saw, stooping a little, +inclined to stoutness, with a full curly beard tinged with grey, +rather overhung brows, and a high forehead, from which the same kind +of curly greyish hair was beginning to retreat. He was in a well-cut +frock-coat and dark trousers, with the collar of the period and a dark +tie.</p> + +<p>Lady Laura was in a flutter of welcome, pouring out little sentences, +leading him to a seat, introducing him, and finally pressing +refreshments into his hands.</p> + +<p>"It is too good of you," she said; "too good of you, with all your +engagements.... These gentlemen are most anxious.... Mrs. Stapleton of +course you know.... And you will just sit and talk to us ... like +friends ... won't you.... No, no! no formal speech at all ... just a +few words ... and you will allow us to ask you questions...."</p> + +<p>And so on.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Laurie observed the high-priest carefully and narrowly, and +was quite unable to see any of the unpleasant qualities he had +expected. He sat easily, without self-consciousness or arrogance or +unpleasant humility. He had a pair of pleasant, shrewd, and rather +kind eyes; and his voice, when he said a word or two in answer to Lady +Laura's volubility, was of that resonant softness that is always a +delight to hear. In fact, his whole bearing and personality was that +of a rather exceptional average man—a publisher, it might be, or a +retired lawyer—a family man with a sober round of life and ordinary +duties, who brought to their fulfillment a wholesome, kindly, but +distinctly strong character of his own. Laurie hardly knew whether he +was pleased or disappointed. He would almost have preferred a wild +creature with rolling eyes, in a cloak; yet he would have been +secretly amused and contemptuous at such a man.</p> + +<p>"The sitting is off for Sunday, by the way, Lady Laura," said the +new-comer.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! How is that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! there was some mistake about the rooms; it's the secretary's +fault; you mustn't blame me."</p> + +<p>Lady Laura cried out her dismay and disappointment, and Mrs. +Stapleton played chorus. It was <i>too</i> tiresome, they said, <i>too</i> +provoking, particularly just now, when "Annie" was so complacent. +(Mrs. Stapleton explained kindly to the two young gentlemen that +"Annie" was a spirit who had lately made various very interesting +revelations.) What was to be done? Were there no other rooms?</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent shook his head. It was too late, he said, to make +arrangements now.</p> + +<p>While the ladies continued to buzz, and Mr. Jamieson to listen from +the extreme edge of his chair, Laurie continued to make mental +comments. He felt distinctly puzzled by the marked difference between +the prophet and his disciples. These were so shallow; this so +impressive by the most ordinary of all methods, and the most difficult +of imitation, that is, by sheer human personality. He could not grasp +the least common multiple of the two sides. Yet this man tolerated +these women, and, indeed, seemed very kind and friendly towards them. +He seemed to possess that sort of competence which rises from the fact +of having well-arranged ideas and complete certitude about them.</p> + +<p>And at last a pause came. Mr. Vincent set down his cup for the second +time, refused buttered bun, and waited.</p> + +<p>"Yes, do smoke, Mr. Vincent."</p> + +<p>The man drew out his cigarette-case, smiling, offering it to the two +men. Laurie took one; the clergyman refused.</p> + +<p>"And now, Mr. Vincent."</p> + +<p>Again he smiled, in a half-embarrassed way.</p> + +<p>"But no speeches, I think you said," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"Oh! well, you know what I mean; just like friends, you know. Treat +us all like that."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton rose, came nearer the circle, rustled down again, and +sank into an elaborate silence.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is it these gentlemen wish to hear?"</p> + +<p>"Everything—everything," cried Lady Laura. "They claim to know +nothing at all."</p> + +<p>Laurie thought it time to explain himself a little. He felt he would +not like to take this man at an unfair advantage.</p> + +<p>"I should just like to say this," he said. "I have told Mrs. Stapleton +already. It is this. I must confess that so far as I am concerned I am +not a believer. But neither am I a skeptic. I am just a real agnostic +in this matter. I have read several books; and I have been impressed. +But there's a great deal in them that seems to me nonsense; perhaps I +had better say which I don't understand. This materializing business, +for instance.... I can understand that the minds of the dead can +affect ours; but I don't see how they can affect matter—in +table-rapping, for instance, and still more in appearing, and our +being able to touch and see them.... I think that's my position," he +ended rather lamely.</p> + +<p>The fact was that he was a little disconcerted by the other's eyes. +They were, as I have said, kind and shrewd eyes, but they had a good +deal of power as well. Mr. Vincent sat motionless during this little +speech, just looking at him, not at all offensively, yet with the +effect of making the young man feel rather like a defiant and naughty +little boy who is trying to explain.</p> + +<p>Laurie sat back and drew on his cigarette rather hard.</p> + +<p>"I understand perfectly," said the steady voice. "You are in a very +reasonable position. I wish all were as open-minded. May I say a word +or two?"</p> + +<p>"Please."</p> + +<p>"Well, it is materialization that puzzles you, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said Laurie. "Our theologians tell us—by the way, I am a +Catholic." (The other bowed a little.) "Our theologians, I believe, +tell us that such a thing cannot be, except under peculiar +circumstances, as in the lives of the saints, and so on."</p> + +<p>"Are you bound to believe all that your theologians say?" asked the +other quietly.</p> + +<p>"Well, it would be very rash indeed—" began Laurie.</p> + +<p>"Exactly, I see. But what if you approach it from the other side, and +try to find out instead whether these things actually do happen. I do +not wish to be rude, Mr. Baxter; but you remember that your +theologians—I am not so foolish as to say the Church, for I know that +that was not so—but your theologians, you know, made a mistake about +Galileo."</p> + +<p>Laurie winced a little. Mr. Jamieson cleared his throat in gentle +approval.</p> + +<p>"Now I don't ask you to accept anything contrary to your faith," went +on the other gently; "but if you really wish to look into this matter, +you must set aside for the present all other presuppositions. You must +not begin by assuming that the theologians are always right, nor even +in asking how or why these things should happen. The one point is, <i>Do +they happen?</i>"</p> + +<p>His last words had a curious little effect as of a sudden flame. He +had spoken smoothly and quietly; then he had suddenly put an +unexpected emphasis into the little sentence at the end. Laurie +jumped, internally. Yes, that was the point, he assented internally.</p> + +<p>"Now," went on the other, again in that slow, reassuring voice, +flicking off the ash of his cigarette, "is it possible for you to +doubt that these things happen? May I ask you what books you have +read?"</p> + +<p>Laurie named three or four.</p> + +<p>"And they have not convinced you?"</p> + +<p>"Not altogether."</p> + +<p>"Yet you accept human evidence for a great many much more remarkable +things than these—as a Catholic."</p> + +<p>"That is Divine Revelation," said Laurie, sure of his ground.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," said the other. "I do not in the least say it is not +Divine Revelation—that is another question—but you receive the +statement that it is so, on the word of man. Is that not true?"</p> + +<p>Laurie was silent. He did not quite know what to say; and he almost +feared the next words. But he was astonished that the other did not +press home the point.</p> + +<p>"Think over that, Mr. Baxter. That is all I ask. And now for the real +thing. You sincerely wish to be convinced?"</p> + +<p>"I am ready to be convinced."</p> + +<p>The medium paused an instant, looking intently at the fire. Then he +tossed the stump of his cigarette away and lighted another. The two +ladies sat motionless.</p> + +<p>"You seem fond of <i>a priori</i> arguments, Mr. Baxter," he began, with a +kindly smile. "Let us have one or two, then.</p> + +<p>"Consider first the relation of your soul to your body. That is +infinitely mysterious, is it not? An emotion rises in your soul, and a +flush of blood marks it. That is the subconscious mechanism of your +body. But to say that, does not explain it. It is only a label. You +follow me? Yes? Or still more mysterious is your conscious power. You +will to raise your hand, and it obeys. Muscular action? Oh yes; but +that is but another label." He turned his eyes, suddenly somber, upon +the staring, listening young man, and his voice rose a little. "Go +right behind all that, Mr. Baxter, down to the mysteries. What is that +link between soul and body? You do not know! Nor does the wisest +scientist in the world. Nor ever will. Yet there the link is!"</p> + +<p>Again he paused.</p> + +<p>Laurie was aware of a rising half-excited interest far beyond the +power of the words he heard. Yet the manner of these too was striking. +It was not the sham mysticism he had expected. There was a certain +reverence in them, an admitting of mysteries, that seemed hard to +reconcile with the ideas he had formed of the dogmatism of these folk.</p> + +<p>"Now begin again," continued the quiet, virile voice. "You believe, as +a Christian, in the immortality of the soul, in the survival of +personality after death. Thank God for that! All do not, in these +days. Then I need not labor at that.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Baxter, imagine to yourself some soul that you have loved +passionately, who has crossed over to the other side." Laurie drew a +long, noiseless breath, steadying himself with clenched hands. "She +has come to the unimaginable glories, according to her measure; she is +at an end of doubts and fears and suspicions. She knows because she +sees.... But do you think that she is absorbed in these things? You +know nothing of human love, Mr. Baxter" (the voice trembled with +genuine emotion) ... "if you can think that...! If you can think that +her thought turns only to herself and her joys. Why, her life has been +lived in your love by our hypothesis—you were at her bedside when she +died, perhaps; and she clung to you as to God Himself, when the shadow +deepened. Do you think that her first thought, or at least her second, +will not be of you...? In all that she sees, she will desire you to +see it also. She will strive, crave, hunger for you—not that she may +possess you, but that you may be one with her in her own possession; +she will send out vibration after vibration of sympathy and longing; +and you, on this side, will be tuned to her as none other can be—you, +on this side, will be empty for her love, for the sight and sound of +her.... Is death then so strong?—stronger than love? Can a Christian +believe that?"</p> + +<p>The change in the man was extraordinary. His heavy beard and brows hid +half his face, but his whole being glowed passionately in his voice, +even in his little trembling gestures, and Laurie sat astonished. +Every word uttered seemed to fit his own case, to express by an almost +perfect vehicle the vague thoughts that had struggled in his own heart +during this last week. It was Amy of whom the man spoke, Amy with her +eyes and hair, peering from the glorious gloom to catch some glimpse +of her lover in his meaningless light of earthly day.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent cleared his throat a little, and at the sound the two +motionless women stirred and rustled a little. The sound of a hansom, +the spanking trot and wintry jingle of bells swelled out of the +distance, passed, and went into silence before he spoke again. Then it +was in his usual slow voice that he continued.</p> + +<p>"Conceive such a soul as that, Mr. Baxter. She desires to communicate +with one she loves on earth, with you or me, and it is a human and +innocent desire. Yet she has lost that connection, that machinery of +which we have spoken—that connection of which we know nothing, +between matter and spirit, except that it exists. What is she to do? +Well, at least she will do this, she will bend every power that she +possesses upon that medium—I mean matter—through which alone the +communication can be made; as a man on an island, beyond the power of +a human voice, will use any instrument, however grotesque, to signal +to a passing ship. Would any decent man, Mr. Baxter, mock at the +pathos and effort of that, even if it were some grotesque thing, like +a flannel shirt on the end of an oar? Yet men mock at the tapping of a +table...!</p> + +<p>"Well, then, this longing soul uses every means at her disposal, +concentrates every power she possesses. Is it so very unreasonable, so +very unchristian, so very dishonoring to the love of God, to think +that she sometimes succeeds...? that she is able, under comparatively +exceptional circumstances, to re-establish that connection with +material things, that was perfectly normal and natural to her during +her earthly life.... Tell me, Mr. Baxter."</p> + +<p>Laurie shifted a little in his chair.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say that it is," he said, in a voice that seemed strange in +his own ears. The medium smiled a little.</p> + +<p>"So much for <i>a priori</i> reasoning," he said. "There remains only the +fact whether such things do happen or not. There I must leave you to +yourself, Mr. Baxter."</p> + +<p>Laurie sat forward suddenly.</p> + +<p>"But that is exactly where I need your help, sir," he said.</p> + +<p>A murmur broke from the ladies' lips simultaneously, resembling +applause. Mr. Jamieson sat back and swallowed perceptibly in his +throat.</p> + +<p>"You have said so much, sir," went on Laurie deliberately, "that you +have, so to speak, put yourself in my debt. I must ask you to take me +further."</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent smiled full at him.</p> + +<p>"You must take your place with others," he said. "These ladies—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent, Mr. Vincent," cried Lady Laura. "He is quite right, you +must help him. You must help us all."</p> + +<p>"Well, Sunday week," he began deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton broke in.</p> + +<p>"No, no; now, Mr. Vincent, now. Do something now. Surely the +circumstances are favorable."</p> + +<p>"I must be gone again at six-thirty," said the man hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>Laurie broke in. He felt desperate.</p> + +<p>"If you can show me anything of this, sir, you can surely show it now. +If you do not show it now—"</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Baxter?" put in the voice, sharp and incisive, as if +expecting an insult and challenging it.</p> + +<p>Laurie broke down.</p> + +<p>"I can only say," he cried, "that I beg and entreat of you to do what +you can—now and here."</p> + +<p>There was a silence.</p> + +<p>"And you, Mr. Jamieson?"</p> + +<p>The young clergyman started, as if from a daze. Then he rose abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I—I must be going, Lady Laura," he said. "I had no idea it was so +late. I—I have a confirmation class."</p> + +<p>An instant later he was gone.</p> + +<p>"That is as well," observed the medium. "And you are sure, Mr. Baxter, +that you wish me to try? You must remember that I promise nothing."</p> + +<p>"I wish you to try."</p> + +<p>"And if nothing happens?"</p> + +<p>"If nothing happens, I will promise to—to continue my search. I shall +know then that—that it is at least sincere."</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"A little table just here, Lady Laura, if you please, and a pencil and +paper.... Will you kindly take your seats...? Yes, Mr. Baxter, draw up +your chair ... here. Now, please, we must have complete silence, and, +so far as possible, silence of thought."</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>The table, a small, round rosewood one, stood, bare of any cloth, upon +the hearthrug. The two ladies sat, motionless statues once more, upon +the side furthest from the fire, with their hands resting lightly upon +the surface. Laurie sat on one side and the medium on the other. Mr. +Vincent had received his paper and pencil almost immediately, and now +sat resting his right hand with the pencil upon the paper as if to +write, his left hand upon his knee as he sat, turned away slightly +from the center.</p> + +<p>Laurie looked at him closely....</p> + +<p>And now he began to be aware of a certain quite indefinable change in +the face at which he looked. The eyes were open—no, it was not in +them that the change lay, nor in the lines about the mouth, so far as +he could see them, nor in any detail, anywhere. Neither was it the +face of a dreamer or a sleepwalker, or of the dead, when the lines +disappear and life retires. It was a living, conscious face, yet it +was changed. The lips were slightly parted, and the breath came evenly +between them. It was more like the face of one lost in deep, absorbed, +introspective thought. Laurie decided that this was the explanation.</p> + +<p>He looked at the hand on the paper—well shaped, brownish, +capable—perfectly motionless, the pencil held lightly between the +finger and thumb.</p> + +<p>Then he glanced up at the two ladies.</p> + +<p>They too were perfectly motionless, but there was no change in them. +The eyes of both were downcast, fixed steadily upon the paper. And as +he looked he saw Lady Laura begin to lift her lids slowly as if to +glance at him. He looked himself upon the paper and the motionless +fingers.</p> + +<p>He was astonished at the speed with which the situation had developed. +Five minutes ago he had been listening to talk, and joining in it. +The clergyman had been here; he himself had been sitting a yard +further back. Now they sat here as if they had sat for an hour. It +seemed that the progress of events had stopped....</p> + +<p>Then he began to listen for the sounds of the world outside, for +within here it seemed as if a silence of a very strange quality had +suddenly descended and enveloped them. It was as if a section—that +place in which he sat—had been cut out of time and space. It was +apart here, it was different altogether....</p> + +<p>He began to be intensely and minutely conscious of the world +outside—so entirely conscious that he lost all perception of that at +which he stared; whether it was the paper, or the strong, motionless +hand, or the introspective face, he was afterwards unaware. But he +heard all the quiet roar of the London evening, and was able to +distinguish even the note of each instrument that helped to make up +that untiring, inconclusive orchestra. Far away to the northwards +sounded a great thoroughfare, the rolling of wheels, a myriad hoofs, +the pulse of motor vehicles, and the cries of street boys; upon all +these his attention dwelt as they came up through the outward windows +into that dead silent, lamp-lit room of which he had lost +consciousness. Again a hansom came up the street, with the rap of +hoofs, the swish of a whip, the wintry jingle of bells....</p> + +<p>He began gently to consider these things, to perceive, rather than to +form, little inward pictures of what they signified; he saw the +lighted omnibus, the little swirl of faces round a news-board.</p> + +<p>Then he began to consider what had brought him here; it seemed that he +saw himself, coming in his dark suit across the park, turning into the +thoroughfare and across it. He began to consider Amy; and it seemed to +him that in this intense and living silence he was conscious of her +for the first time without sorrow since ten days ago. He began to +consider.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Something brought him back in an instant to the room and his +perception of it, but he had not an idea what this was, whether a +movement or a sound. But on considering it afterwards he remembered +that it was as that sound is that wakes a man at the very instant of +his falling asleep, a sharp momentary tick, as of a clock. Yet he had +not been in the least sleepy.</p> + +<p>On the contrary, he perceived now with an extreme and alert attention +the hand on the paper; he even turned his head slightly to see if the +pencil had moved. It was as motionless as at the beginning. He glanced +up, with a touch of surprise, at his hostess's face, and caught her in +the very act of turning her eyes from his. There was no impatience in +her movement: rather her face was of one absorbed, listening intently, +not like the bearded face opposite, introspective and intuitive, but +eagerly, though motionlessly, observant of the objective world. He +looked at Mrs. Stapleton. She too bore the same expression of intent +regarding thought on her usually rather tiresome face.</p> + +<p>Then once again the silence began to come down, like a long, noiseless +hush.</p> + +<p>This time, however, his progress was swifter and more sure. He passed +with the speed of thought through those processes that had been +measurable before, faintly conscious of the words spoken before the +sitting began—</p> + +<p>"... If possible, the silence of thought."</p> + +<p>He thought he understood now what this signified, and that he was +experiencing it. No longer did he dwell upon, or consider, with any +voluntary activity, the images that passed before him. Rather they +moved past him while he simply regarded them without understanding. +His perception ran swiftly outwards, as through concentric circles, +yet he was not sure whether it were outwards or inwards that he went. +The roar of London, with its flight of ocular visions, sank behind +him, and without any further sense of mental travel, he found himself +perceiving his own home, whether in memory, imagination, or fact he +did not know. But he perceived his mother, in the familiar lamp-lit +room, over her needlework, and Maggie—Maggie looking at him with a +strange, almost terrified expression in her great eyes. Then these too +were gone; and he was out in some warm silence, filled with a single +presence—that which he desired; and there he stopped.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He was not in the least aware of how long this lasted. But he found +himself at a certain moment in time, looking steadily at the white +paper on the table, from which the hand had gone, again conscious of +the sudden passing of some clear sound that left no echo—as sharp as +the crack of a whip. Oh! the paper—that was the important point! He +bent a little closer, and was aware of a sharp disappointment as he +saw it was stainless of writing. Then he was astonished that the hand +and pencil had gone from it, and looked up quickly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent was looking at him with a strange expression.</p> + +<p>At first he thought he might have interrupted, and wondered with +dismay whether this were so. But there was no sign of anger in those +eyes—nothing but a curious and kindly interest.</p> + +<p>"Nothing happened?" he exclaimed hastily. "You have written nothing?"</p> + +<p>He looked at the ladies.</p> + +<p>Lady Laura too was looking at him with the same strange interest as +the medium. Mrs. Stapleton, he noticed, was just folding up, in an +unobtrusive manner, several sheets of paper that he had not noticed +before.</p> + +<p>He felt a little stiff, and moved as if to stand up but, to his +astonishment, the big man was up in an instant, laying his hands on +his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Just sit still quietly for a few minutes," said the kindly +voice. "Just sit still."</p> + +<p>"Why—why—" began Laurie, bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Yes, just sit still quietly," went on the voice; "you feel a little +tired."</p> + +<p>"Just a little," said Laurie. "But—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; just sit still. No; don't speak."</p> + +<p>Then a silence fell again.</p> + +<p>Laurie began to wonder what this was all about. Certainly he felt +tired, yet strangely elated. But he felt no inclination to move; and +sat back, passive, looking at his own hands on his knees. But he was +disappointed that nothing had happened.</p> + +<p>Then the thought of time came into his mind. He supposed that it would +be about ten minutes past six. The sitting had begun a little before +six. He glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece; but it was one of +those bulgy-faced Empire gilt affairs that display everything except +the hour. He still waited a moment, feeling all this to be very +unusual and unconventional. Why should he sit here like an invalid, +and why should these three sit here and watch him so closely?</p> + +<p>He shifted a little in his chair, feeling that an effort was due from +him. The question of the time of day struck him as a suitably +conventional remark with which to break the embarrassing silence.</p> + +<p>"What is the time?" he said. "I am afraid I ought to be—"</p> + +<p>"There is plenty of time," said the grave voice across the table.</p> + +<p>With a sudden movement Laurie was on his feet, peering at the clock, +knowing that something was wrong somewhere. Then he turned to the +company bewildered and suspicious.</p> + +<p>"Why, it is nearly eight," he cried.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent smiled reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"It is about that," he said. "Please sit down again, Mr. Baxter."</p> + +<p>"But—but—" began Laurie.</p> + +<p>"Please sit down again, Mr. Baxter," repeated the voice, with a touch +of imperiousness that there was no resisting.</p> + +<p>Laurie sat down again; but he was alert, suspicious, and intensely +puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Will you kindly tell me what has happened?" he asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"You feel tired?"</p> + +<p>"No; I am all right. Kindly tell me what has happened."</p> + +<p>He saw Lady Laura whisper something in an undertone he could not +hear. Mr. Vincent stood up with a nod and leaned himself against the +mantelpiece, looking down at the rather indignant young man.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he said. "You are sure you are not exhausted, Mr. +Baxter?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least," said Laurie.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you passed into trance about five minutes—"</p> + +<p>"<i>What?</i>"</p> + +<p>"You passed into trance about five minutes past six; you came out of +it five minutes ago."</p> + +<p>"Trance?" gasped Laurie.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. A very deep and satisfactory trance. There is nothing to +be frightened of, Mr. Baxter. It is an unusual gift, that is all. I +have seldom seen a more satisfactory instance. May I ask you a +question or two, sir?"</p> + +<p>Laurie nodded vaguely. He was still trying hopelessly to take in what +had been said.</p> + +<p>"You nearly passed into trance a little earlier. May I ask whether you +heard or saw anything that recalled you?"</p> + +<p>Laurie shut his eyes tight in an effort to think. He felt dimly rather +proud of himself.</p> + +<p>"It was quite short. Then you came back and looked at Lady Laura. Try +to remember."</p> + +<p>"I remember thinking I had heard a sound."</p> + +<p>The medium nodded.</p> + +<p>"Just so," he said.</p> + +<p>"That would be the third," said Lady Laura, nodding sagely.</p> + +<p>"Third what?" said Laurie rather rudely.</p> + +<p>No one paid any attention to him.</p> + +<p>"Now can you give any account of the last hour and a half?" continued +the medium tranquilly.</p> + +<p>Laurie considered again. He was still a little confused.</p> + +<p>"I remember thinking about the streets," he said, "and then of my own +home, and then..." He stopped.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and then?"</p> + +<p>"Then of a certain private matter."</p> + +<p>"Ah! We must not pry then. But can you answer one question more? Was +it connected with any person who has crossed over?"</p> + +<p>"It was," said Laurie shortly.</p> + +<p>"Just so," said the medium.</p> + +<p>Laurie felt suspicious.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask that?" he said.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent looked at him steadily.</p> + +<p>"I think I had better tell you, Mr. Baxter; it is more straightforward, +though you will not like it. You will be surprised to hear that you +talked very considerably during this hour and a half; and from all that +you said I should suppose you were controlled by a spirit recently +crossed over—a young girl who on being questioned gave the name of Amy +Nugent—"</p> + +<p>Laurie sprang to his feet, furious.</p> + +<p>"You have been spying, sir. How dare you—"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Mr. Baxter, or you shall not hear a word more," rang out +the imperious, unruffled voice. "Sit down this instant."</p> + +<p>Laurie shot a look at the two ladies. Then he remembered himself. He +sat down.</p> + +<p>"I am not at all angry, Mr. Baxter," came the voice, suave and kindly +again. "Your thought was very natural. But I think I can prove to you +that you are mistaken."</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent glanced at Mrs. Stapleton with an almost imperceptible +frown, then back at Laurie.</p> + +<p>"Let me see, Mr. Baxter.... Is there anyone on earth besides yourself +who knew that you had sat out, about ten days ago or so, under some +yew trees in your garden at home, and thought of this young girl—that +you—"</p> + +<p>Laurie looked at him in dumb dismay; some little sound broke from his +mouth.</p> + +<p>"Well, is that enough, Mr. Baxter?"</p> + +<p>Lady Laura slid in a sentence here.</p> + +<p>"Dear Mr. Baxter, you need not be in the least alarmed. All that has +passed here is, of course, as sacred as in the confessional. We should +not dream, without your leave—"</p> + +<p>"One moment," gasped the boy.</p> + +<p>He drove his face into his hands and sat overwhelmed.</p> + +<p>Presently he looked up.</p> + +<p>"But I knew it," he said. "I knew it. It was just my own self which +spoke."</p> + +<p>The medium smiled.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "of course that is the first answer." He placed one +hand on the table, leaning forward, and began to play his fingers as +if on a piano. Laurie watched the movement, which seemed vaguely +familiar.</p> + +<p>"Can you account for that, Mr. Baxter? You did that several times. It +seemed uncharacteristic of you, somehow."</p> + +<p>Laurie looked at him, mute. He remembered now. He half raised a hand +in protest.</p> + +<p>"And ... and do you ever stammer?" went on the man.</p> + +<p>Still Laurie was silent. It was beyond belief or imagination.</p> + +<p>"Now if those things were characteristic—"</p> + +<p>"Stop, sir," cried the boy; and then, "But those too might be unconscious +imitation."</p> + +<p>"They might," said the other. "But then we had the advantage of +watching you. And there were other things."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon?"</p> + +<p>"There was the loud continuous rapping, at the beginning and the +end. You were awakened twice by these."</p> + +<p>Laurie remained perfectly motionless without a word. He was still +striving to marshal this flood of mad ideas. It was incredible, +amazing.</p> + +<p>Then he stood up.</p> + +<p>"I must go away," he said. "I—I don't know what to think."</p> + +<p>"You had better stay a little longer and rest," said the medium +kindly.</p> + +<p>The boy shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I must go at once," he said. "I cannot trust myself."</p> + +<p>He went out without a word, followed by the medium. The two ladies sat +eyeing one another.</p> + +<p>"It has been astonishing ... astonishing," sighed Mrs. Stapleton. +"What a find!"</p> + +<p>There was no more said. Lady Laura sat as one in trance herself.</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Vincent returned.</p> + +<p>"You must not lose sight of that young man," he said abruptly. "It is +an extraordinary case."</p> + +<p>"I have all the notes here," remarked Mrs. Stapleton.</p> + +<p>"Yes; you had better keep them. He must not see them at present."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_V" id="Chapter_V" /><i>Chapter V</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>As the weeks went by Maggie's faint uneasiness disappeared. She was +one of those fortunate persons who, possessing what are known as +nerves, are aware of the possession, and discount their effects +accordingly.</p> + +<p>That uneasiness had culminated a few days after Laurie's departure one +evening as she sat with the old lady after tea—in a sudden touch of +terror at she knew not what.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, my dear?" the old lady had said without warning.</p> + +<p>Maggie was reading, but it appeared that Mrs. Baxter had noticed her +lower her book suddenly, with an odd expression.</p> + +<p>Maggie had blinked a moment.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she said. "I was just thinking of Laurie; I don't know +why."</p> + +<p>But since then she had been able to reassure herself. Her fancies were +but fancies, she told herself; and they had ceased to trouble her. The +boy's letters to his mother were ordinary and natural: he was reading +fairly hard; his coach was as pleasant a person as he had seemed; he +hoped to run down to Stantons for a few days at Christmas. There was +nothing whatever to alarm anyone; plainly his ridiculous attitude +about Spiritualism had been laid by; and, better still, he was +beginning to recover himself after his sorrow in September.</p> + +<p>It was an extraordinarily peaceful and uneventful life that the two +led together—the kind of life that strengthens previous proclivities +and adds no new ones; that brings out the framework of character and +motive as dropping water clears the buried roots of a tree. This was +all very well for Mrs. Baxter, whose character was already fully +formed, it may be hoped; but not so utterly satisfactory for the girl, +though the process was pleasant enough.</p> + +<p>After Mass and breakfast she spent the morning as she wished, +overseeing little extra details of the house—gardening plans, the +poultry, and so forth—and reading what she cared to. The afternoon +was devoted to the old lady's airing; the evening till dinner to +anything she wished; and after dinner again to gentle conversation. +Very little happened. The Vicar and his wife dined there occasionally, +and still more occasionally Father Mahon. Now and then there were +vague entertainments to be patronized in the village schoolroom, in an +atmosphere of ink and hair-oil, and a mild amount of rather dreary and +stately gaiety connected with the big houses round. Mrs. Baxter +occasionally put in appearances, a dignified and aristocratic old +figure with her gentle eyes and black lace veil; and Maggie went with +her.</p> + +<p>The pleasure of this life grew steadily upon Maggie. She was one of +that fraction of the world that finds entertainment to lie, like the +kingdom of God, within. She did not in the least wish to be "amused" +or stimulated and distracted. She was perfectly and serenely content +with the fowls, the garden, her small selected tasks, her religion, +and herself.</p> + +<p>The result was, as it always is in such cases, she began to revolve +about three or four main lines of thought, and to make a very fair +progress in the knowledge of herself. She knew her faults quite well; +and she was not unaware of her virtues. She knew perfectly that she +was apt to give way to internal irritation, of a strong though +invisible kind, when interruptions happened; that she now and then +gave way to an unduly fierce contempt of tiresome people, and said +little bitter things that she afterwards regretted. She also knew that +she was quite courageous, that she had magnificent physical health, +and that she could be perfectly content with a life that a good many +other people would find narrow and stifling.</p> + +<p>Her own character then was one thing that she had studied—not in the +least in a morbid way—during her life at Stantons. And another thing +she was beginning to study, rather to her own surprise, was the +character of Laurie. She began to become a little astonished at the +frequency with which, during a silent drive, or some mild mechanical +labor in the gardens, the image of that young man would rise before +her.</p> + +<p>Indeed, as has been said, she had new material to work on. She had not +realized till the <i>affaire</i> Amy that boy's astonishing selfishness; +and it became for her a rather pleasant psychological exercise to +build up his characteristics into a consistent whole. It had not +struck her, till this specimen came before her notice, how generosity +and egotism, for example, so far from being mutually exclusive, can +very easily be complements, each of the other.</p> + +<p>So then she passed her days—exteriorly a capable and occupied person, +interested in half a dozen simple things; interiorly rather +introspective, rather scrupulous, and intensely interested in the +watching of two characters—her own and her adopted brother's. Mrs. +Baxter's character needed no dissection; it was a consistent whole, +clear as crystal and as rigid.</p> + +<p>It was still some five weeks before Christmas that Maggie became aware +of what, as a British maiden, she ought, of course, to have known long +before—namely, that she was thinking just a little too much about a +young man who, so far as was apparent, thought nothing at all about +her. It was true that once he had passed through a period of +sentimentality in her regard; but the extreme discouragement it had +met with had been enough.</p> + +<p>Her discovery happened in this way.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter opened a letter one morning, smiling contentedly to +herself.</p> + +<p>"From Laurie," she said. Maggie ceased eating toast for a second, to +listen.</p> + +<p>Then the old lady uttered a small cry of dismay.</p> + +<p>"He thinks he can't come, after all," she said.</p> + +<p>Maggie had a moment of very acute annoyance.</p> + +<p>"What does he say? Why not?" she asked.</p> + +<p>There was a pause. She watched Mrs. Baxter's lips moving slowly, her +glasses in place; saw the page turned, and turned again. She took +another piece of toast. There are few things more irritating than to +have fragments of a letter doled out piecemeal.</p> + +<p>"He doesn't say. He just says he's very busy indeed, and has a great +deal of way to make up." The old lady continued reading tranquilly, +and laid the letter down.</p> + +<p>"Nothing more?" asked Maggie, consumed with annoyance.</p> + +<p>"He's been to the theatre once or twice.... Dear Laurie! I'm glad he's +recovering his spirits."</p> + +<p>Maggie was very angry indeed. She thought it abominable of the boy to +treat his mother like that. And then there was the shooting—not much, +indeed, beyond the rabbits, which the man who acted as occasional +keeper told her wanted thinning, and a dozen or two of wild +pheasants—yet this shooting had always been done, she understood, at +Christmas, ever since Master Laurie had been old enough to hold a gun.</p> + +<p>She determined to write him a letter.</p> + +<p>When breakfast was over, with a resolved face she went to her room. +She would really tell this boy a home-truth or two. It was a—a +sister's place to do so. The mother, she knew well enough, would do no +more than send a little wail, and would end by telling the dear boy +that, of course, he knew best, and that she was very happy to think +that he was taking such pains about his studies. Someone must point +out to the boy his overwhelming selfishness, and it seemed that no one +was at hand but herself. Therefore she would do it.</p> + +<p>She did it, therefore, politely enough but unmistakably; and as it was +a fine morning, she thought that she would like to step up to the +village and post it. She did not want to relent; and once the letter +was in the post-box, the thing would be done.</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, a delicious morning. As she passed out through the +iron gate the trees overhead, still with a few brown belated leaves, +soared up in filigree of exquisite workmanship into a sky of clear +November blue, as fresh as a hedge-sparrow's egg. The genial sound of +cock-crowing rose, silver and exultant, from the farm beyond the road, +and the tiny street of the hamlet looked as clean as a Dutch picture.</p> + +<p>She noticed on the right, just before she turned up to the village on +the left, the grocer's shop, with the name "Nugent" in capitals as +bright and flamboyant as on the depot of a merchant king. Mr. Nugent +could be faintly descried within, in white shirt-sleeves and an apron, +busied at a pile of cheeses. Overhead, three pairs of lace curtains, +each decked with a blue bow, denoted the bedrooms. One of them must +have been Amy's. She wondered which....</p> + +<p>All up the road to the village, some half-mile in length, she pondered +Amy. She had never seen her, to her knowledge; but she had a tolerably +accurate mental picture of her from Mrs. Baxter's account.... Ah! how +could Laurie? How could he...? Laurie, of all people! It was just one +more example....</p> + +<p>After dropping her letter into the box at the corner, she hesitated +for an instant. Then, with an odd look on her face, she turned sharply +aside to where the church tower pricked above the leafless trees.</p> + +<p>It was a typical little country church, with that odor of the +respectable and rather stuffy sanctity peculiar to the class; she had +wrinkled her nose at it more than once in Laurie's company. But she +passed by the door of it now, and, stepping among the wet grasses, +came down the little slope among the headstones to where a very white +marble angel clasped an equally white marble cross. She passed to the +front of this, and looked, frowning a little over the intolerable +taste of the thing.</p> + +<p>The cross, she perceived, was wreathed with a spray of white marble +ivory; the angel was a German female, with a very rounded leg emerging +behind a kind of button; and there, at the foot of the cross, was the +inscription, in startling black—</p> + +<div class="center"> +AMY NUGENT<br /><br /> +THE DEAR AND ONLY DAUGHTER<br /> +OF<br /> +AMOS AND MARIA NUGENT<br /> +OF STANTONS<br /><br /> +DIED SEPTEMBER 21st 1901<br /><br /> +RESPECTED BY ALL<br /><br /> +<i>"I SHALL SEE HER BUT NOT NOW."</i> +</div> + +<p>Below, as vivid as the inscription, there stood out the maker's name, +and of the town where he lived.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>So she lay there, reflected Maggie. It had ended in that. A mound of +earth, cracking a little, and sunken. She lay there, her nervous +fingers motionless and her stammer silent. And could there be a more +eloquent monument of what she was...? Then she remembered herself, and +signed herself with the cross, while her lips moved an instant for the +repose of the poor girlish soul. Then she stepped up again on to the +path to go home.</p> + +<p>It was as she came near the church gate that she understood herself, +that she perceived why she had come, and was conscious for the first +time of her real attitude of soul as she had stood there, reading the +inscription, and, in a flash, there followed the knowledge of the +inevitable meaning of it all.</p> + +<p>In a word it was this.</p> + +<p>She had come there, she told herself, to triumph, to gloat. Oh! she +spared herself nothing, as she stood there, crimson with shame, to +gloat over the grave of a rival. Amy was nothing less than that, and +she herself—she, Margaret Marie Deronnais—had given way to jealousy +of this grocer's daughter, because ... because ... she had begun to +care, really to care, for the man to whom she had written that letter +this morning, and this man had scarcely said one word to her, or given +her one glance, beyond such as a brother might give to a sister. There +was the naked truth.</p> + +<p>Her mind fled back. She understood a hundred things now. She perceived +that that sudden anger at breakfast had been personal disappointment—not +at all that lofty disinterestedness on behalf of the mother that she had +pretended. She understood too, now, the meaning of those long contented +meditations as she went up and down the garden walks, alert for +plantains, the meaning of the zeal she had shown, only a week ago, on +behalf of a certain hazel which the gardener wanted to cut down.</p> + +<p>"You had better wait till Mr. Laurence comes home," she had said. "I +think he once said he liked the tree to be just there."</p> + +<p>She understood now why she had been so intuitive, so condemnatory, so +critical of the boy—it was that she was passionately interested in +him, that it was a pleasure even to abuse him to herself, to call him +selfish and self-centered, that all this lofty disapproval was just +the sop that her subconsciousness had used to quiet her uneasiness.</p> + +<p>Little scenes rose before her—all passed almost in a flash of +time—as she stood with her hand on the medieval-looking latch of the +gate, and she saw herself in them all as a proud, unmaidenly, +pharisaical prig, in love with a man who was not in love with her.</p> + +<p>She made an effort, unlatched the gate, and moved on, a beautiful, +composed figure, with great steady eyes and well-cut profile, a model +of dignity and grace, interiorly a raging, self-contemptuous, abject +wretch.</p> + +<p>It must be remembered that she was convent-bred.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>By the time that Laurie's answer came, poor Maggie had arranged her +emotions fairly satisfactorily. She came to the conclusion, arrived at +after much heart-searching, that after all she was not yet actually in +love with Laurie, but was in danger of being so, and that therefore +now that she knew the danger, and could guard against it, she need not +actually withdraw from her home, and bury herself in a convent or the +foreign mission-field.</p> + +<p>She arrived at this astonishing conclusion by the following process of +thought. It may be presented in the form of a syllogism.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +All girls who are in love regard the beloved as a spotless, +reproachless hero.<br /><br /> + +Maggie Deronnais did not regard Laurie Baxter as a spotless, +reproachless hero.<br /><br /> + +<i>Ergo.</i> Maggie Deronnais was not in love with Laurie Baxter. +</div> + +<p>Strange as it may appear to non-Catholic readers, Maggie did not +confide her complications to the ear of Father Mahon. She mentioned, +no doubt, on the following Saturday, that she had given way to +thoughts of pride and jealousy, that she had deceived herself with +regard to a certain action, done really for selfish motives, into +thinking she had done it for altruistic motives, and there she left +it. And, no doubt, Father Mahon left it there too, and gave her +absolution without hesitation.</p> + +<p>Then Laurie's answer arrived, and had to be dealt with, that is, it +had to be treated interiorly with a proper restraint of emotions.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"My dear Maggie," he wrote;<br /><br /> +Why all this fury? What have I done? I said to mother that +I didn't know for certain whether I could come or not, as +I had a lot to do. I don't think she can have given you +the letter to read, or you wouldn't have written all that +about my being away from home at the one season of the +year, etc. Of course I'll come, if you or anybody feels +like that. Does mother feel upset too? Please tell me if +she ever feels that, or is in the least unwell, or +anything. I'll come instantly. As it is, shall we say the +20th of December, and I'll stay at least a week. Will that +do?<br /><br /> +Yours,<br /> +L.B.<br /> +</div> + +<p>This was a little overwhelming, and Maggie wrote off a penitent +letter, refraining carefully, however, from any expressions that might +have anything of the least warmth, but saying that she was very glad +he was coming, and that the shooting should be seen to.</p> + +<p>She directed the letter; and then sat for an instant looking at +Laurie's—at the neat Oxford-looking hand, the artistic appearance of +the paragraphs, and all the rest of it.</p> + +<p>She would have liked to keep it—to put it with half a dozen others +she had from him; but it seemed better not.</p> + +<p>Then as she tore it up into careful strips, her conscience smote her +again, shrewdly; and she drew out the top left-hand drawer of the +table at which she sat.</p> + +<p>There they were, a little pile of them, neat and orderly. She looked +at them an instant; then she took them out, turned them quickly to see +if all were there, and then, gathering up the strips of the one she +had received that morning, went over to the wood fire and dropped them +in.</p> + +<p>It was better so, she said to herself.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The days went pleasantly enough after that. She would not for an +instant allow to herself that any of their smoothness arose from the +fact that this boy would be here again in a few weeks. On the +contrary, it was because she had detected a weakness in his regard, +she told herself, and had resolutely stamped on it, that she was in so +serene a peace. She arranged about the shooting—that is to say, she +informed the acting keeper that Master Laurie would be home for +Christmas as usual—all in an unemotional manner, and went about her +various affairs without effort.</p> + +<p>She found Mrs. Baxter just a little trying now and then. That lady +had come to the conclusion that Laurie was unhappy in his +religion—certainly references to it had dropped out of his +letters—and that Mr. Rymer must set it right.</p> + +<p>"The Vicar must dine here at least twice while Laurie is here," she +observed at breakfast one morning. "He has a great influence with +young men."</p> + +<p>Maggie reflected upon a remark or two, extremely unjust, made by +Laurie with regard to the clergyman.</p> + +<p>"Do you think—do you think he understands Laurie," she said.</p> + +<p>"He has known him for fifteen years," remarked Mrs. Baxter.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's Laurie that doesn't understand him then," said Maggie +tranquilly.</p> + +<p>"I daresay."</p> + +<p>"And—and what do you think Mr. Rymer will be able to do?" asked the +girl.</p> + +<p>"Just settle the boy.... I don't think Laurie's very happy. Not that I +would willingly disturb his mind again; I don't mean that, my dear. I +quite understand that your religion is just the one for certain +temperaments, and Laurie's is one of them; but a few helpful words +sometimes—" Mrs. Baxter left it at an aposiopesis, a form of speech +she was fond of.</p> + +<p>There was a grain of truth, Maggie thought, in the old lady's hints, +and she helped herself in silence to marmalade. Laurie's letters, +which she usually read, did not refer much to religion, or to the +Brompton Oratory, as his custom had been at first. She tried to make +up her mind that this was a healthy sign; that it showed that Laurie +was settling down from that slight feverishness of zeal that seemed +the inevitable atmosphere of most converts. Maggie found converts a +little trying now and then; they would talk so much about facts, +certainly undisputed, and for that very reason not to be talked +about. Laurie had been a marked case, she remembered; he wouldn't let +the thing alone, and his contempt of Anglican clergy, whom Maggie +herself regarded with respect, was hard to understand. In fact she had +remonstrated on the subject of the Vicar....</p> + +<p>Maggie perceived that she was letting her thoughts run again on +disputable lines; and she made a remark about the Balkan crisis so +abruptly that Mrs. Baxter looked at her in bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"You do jump about so, my dear. We were speaking of Laurie, were we +not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Maggie.</p> + +<p>"It's the twentieth he's coming on, is it not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Maggie.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what train he'll come by?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Maggie.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A few days before Laurie's arrival she went to the greenhouse to see +the chrysanthemums. There was an excellent show of them.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Baxter doesn't like them hairy ones," said the gardener.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I had forgotten. Well, Ferris, on the nineteenth I shall want a +big bunch of them. You'd better take those—those hairy ones. And some +maidenhair. Is there plenty?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss."</p> + +<p>"Can you make a wreath, Ferris?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss."</p> + +<p>"Well, will you make a good wreath of them, please, for a grave? The +morning of the twentieth will do. There'll be plenty left for the +church and house?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, miss."</p> + +<p>"And for Father Mahon?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, miss."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then. Will you remember that? A good wreath, with fern, on +the morning of the twentieth. If you'll just leave it here I'll call +for it about twelve o'clock. You needn't send it up to the house."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VI" id="Chapter_VI" /><i>Chapter VI</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>Laurie was sitting in his room after breakfast, filling his briar pipe +thoughtfully, and contemplating his journey to Stantons.</p> + +<p>It was more than six weeks now since his experience in Queen's Gate, +and he had gone through a variety of emotions. Bewildered terror was +the first, a nervous interest the next, a truculent skepticism the +third; and lately, to his astonishment, the nervous interest had begun +to revive.</p> + +<p>At first he had been filled with unreasoning fear. He had walked back +as far as the gate of the park, hardly knowing where he went, +conscious only that he must be in the company of his fellows; upon +finding himself on the south side of Hyde Park Corner, where travelers +were few, he had crossed over in nervous haste to where he might +jostle human beings. Then he had dined in a restaurant, knowing that a +band would be playing there, and had drunk a bottle of champagne; he +had gone to his rooms, cheered and excited, and had leapt instantly +into bed for fear that his courage should evaporate. For he was +perfectly aware that fear, and a sickening kind of repulsion, formed a +very large element in his emotions. For nearly two hours, unless three +persons had lied consummately, he—his essential being, that sleepless +self that underlies all—had been in strange company, had become +identified in some horrible manner with the soul of a dead person. It +was as if he had been informed some morning that he had slept all +night with a corpse under his bed. He woke half a dozen times that +night in the pleasant curtained bedroom, and each time with the terror +upon him. What if stories were true, and this Thing still haunted the +air? It was remarkable, he considered afterwards, how the sign which +he had demanded had not had the effect for which he had hoped. He was +not at all reassured by it.</p> + +<p>Then as the days went by, and he was left in peace, his horror began +to pass. He turned the thing over in his mind a dozen times a day, and +found it absorbing. But he began to reflect that, after all, he had +nothing more than he had had before in the way of evidence. An +hypnotic sleep might explain the whole thing. That little revelation +he had made in his unconsciousness, of his sitting beneath the yews, +might easily be accounted for by the fact that he himself knew it, +that it had been a deeper element in his experience than he had known, +and that he had told it aloud. It was no proof of anything more. There +remained the rapping and what the medium had called his "appearance" +during the sleep; but of all this he had read before in books. Why +should he be convinced any more now than he had been previously? +Besides, it was surely doubtful, was it not, whether the rapping, if +it had really taken place, might not be the normal cracks and sounds +of woodwork, intensified in the attention of the listeners? or if it +was more than this, was there any proof that it might not be produced +in some way by the intense will-power of some living person present? +This was surely conceivable—more conceivable, that is, than any other +hypothesis.... Besides, what had it all got to do with Amy?</p> + +<p>Within a week of his original experience, skepticism was dominant. +These lines of thought did their work by incessant repetition. The +normal life he lived, the large, businesslike face of the lawyer whom +he faced day by day, a theatre or two, a couple of dinners—even the +noise of London streets and the appearance of workaday persons—all +these gradually reassured him.</p> + +<p>When therefore he received a nervous little note from Lady Laura, +reminding him of the <i>séance</i> to be held in Baker Street, and begging +his attendance, he wrote a most proper letter back again, thanking her +for her kindness, but saying that he had come to the conclusion that +this kind of thing was not good for him or his work, and begging her +to make his excuses to Mr. Vincent.</p> + +<p>A week or two passed, and nothing whatever happened. Then he heard +again from Lady Laura, and again he answered by a polite refusal, +adding a little more as to his own state of mind; and again silence +fell.</p> + +<p>Then at last Mr. Vincent called on him in person one evening after +dinner.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Laurie's rooms were in Mitre Court, very convenient to the Temple—two +rooms opening into one another, and communicating with the staircase.</p> + +<p>He had played a little on his grand piano, that occupied a third of +his sitting-room, and had then dropped off to sleep before his fire. +He awakened suddenly to see the big man standing almost over him, and +sat up confusedly.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Mr. Baxter; the porter's boy told me to come +straight up. I found your outer door open."</p> + +<p>Laurie hastened to welcome him, to set him down in a deep chair, to +offer whisky and to supply tobacco. There was something about this man +that commanded deference.</p> + +<p>"You know why I have come, I expect," said the medium, smiling.</p> + +<p>Laurie smiled back, a little nervously.</p> + +<p>"I have come to see whether you will not reconsider your decision."</p> + +<p>The boy shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I think not," he said.</p> + +<p>"You found no ill effects, I hope, from what happened at Lady +Laura's?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, after the first shock."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't that reassure you at all, Mr. Baxter?"</p> + +<p>Laurie hesitated.</p> + +<p>"It's like this," he said; "I'm not really convinced. I don't see +anything final in what happened."</p> + +<p>"Will you explain, please?"</p> + +<p>Laurie set the results of his meditations forth at length. There was +nothing, he said, that could not be accounted for by a very abnormal +state of subjectivity. The fact that this ... this young person's name +was in his mind ... and so forth....</p> + +<p>"... And I find it rather distracting to my work," he ended. "Please +don't think me rude or ungrateful, Mr. Vincent."</p> + +<p>He thought he was being very strong and sensible.</p> + +<p>The medium was silent for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't it strike you as odd that I myself was able to get no results +that night?" he said presently.</p> + +<p>"How? I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"Why, as a rule, I find no difficulty at all in getting some sort of +response by automatic handwriting. Are you aware that I could do +nothing at all that night?"</p> + +<p>Laurie considered it.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said at last, "this may sound very foolish to you; but +granting that I have got unusual gifts that way—they are your own +words, Mr. Vincent—if that is so, I don't see why my own +concentration of thought, or hypnotic sleep or trance or whatever it +was—might not have been so intense as to—"</p> + +<p>"I quite see," interrupted the other. "That is, of course, conceivable +from your point of view. It had occurred to me that you might think +that.... Then I take it that your theory is that the subconscious self +is sufficient to account for it all—that in this hypnotic sleep, if +you care to call it so, you simply uttered what was in your heart, and +identified yourself with ... with your memory of that young girl."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said Laurie shortly.</p> + +<p>"And the rapping, loud, continuous, unmistakable?"</p> + +<p>"That doesn't seem to me important. I did not actually hear it, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Then what you need is some unmistakable sign?"</p> + +<p>"Yes ... but I see perfectly that this is impossible. Whatever I said +in my sleep, either I can't identify it as true, in which case it is +worthless as evidence, or I can identify it, because I already know +it, and in that case it is worthless again."</p> + +<p>The medium smiled, half closing his eyes.</p> + +<p>"You must think us very childish, Mr. Baxter," he said.</p> + +<p>He sat up a little in his chair; then, putting his hand into his +breast pocket, drew out a note-book, holding it still closed on his +knee.</p> + +<p>"May I ask you a rather painful question?" he said gently.</p> + +<p>Laurie nodded. He felt so secure.</p> + +<p>"Would you kindly tell me—first, whether you have seen the grave of +this young girl since you left the country; secondly, whether anyone +happens to have mentioned it to you?"</p> + +<p>Laurie swallowed in his throat.</p> + +<p>"Certainly no one has mentioned it to me. And I have not seen it since +I left the country."</p> + +<p>"How long ago was that?"</p> + +<p>"That was ... about September the twenty-seventh."</p> + +<p>"Thank you...!" He opened the note-book and turned the pages a moment +or two. "And will you listen to this, Mr. Baxter?—'Tell Laurie that +the ground has sunk a little above my grave; and that cracks are +showing at the sides.'"</p> + +<p>"What is that book?" said the boy hoarsely.</p> + +<p>The medium closed it and returned it to his pocket.</p> + +<p>"That book, Mr. Baxter, contains a few extracts from some of the +things you said during your trance. The sentence I have read is one of +them, an answer given to a demand made by me that the control should +give some unmistakable proof of her identity. She ... you hesitated +some time before giving that answer."</p> + +<p>"Who took the notes?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Stapleton. You can see the originals if you wish. I thought it +might distress you to know that such notes had been taken; but I have +had to risk that. We must not lose you, Mr. Baxter."</p> + +<p>Laurie sat, dumb and bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Now all you have to do," continued the medium serenely, "is to find +out whether what has been said is correct or not. If it is not +correct, there will be an end of the matter, if you choose. But if it +is correct—"</p> + +<p>"Stop; let me think!" cried Laurie.</p> + +<p>He was back again in the confusion from which he thought he had +escaped. Here was a definite test, offered at least in good +faith—just such a test as had been lacking before; and he had no +doubt whatever that it would be borne out by facts. And if it +were—was there any conceivable hypothesis that would explain it +except the one offered so confidently by this grave, dignified man who +sat and looked at him with something of interested compassion in his +heavy eyes? Coincidence? It was absurd. Certainly graves did sink, +sometimes—but ... Thought-transference from someone who noticed the +grave...? But why that particular thought, so vivid, concise, and +pointed...?</p> + +<p>If it were true...?</p> + +<p>He looked hopelessly at the man, who sat smoking quietly and waiting.</p> + +<p>And then again another thought, previously ignored, pierced him like a +sword. If it were true; if Amy herself, poor pretty Amy, had indeed +been there, were indeed near him now, hammering and crying out like a +child shut out at night, against his own skeptical heart ... if it +were indeed true that during those two hours she had had her heart's +desire, and had been one with his very soul, in a manner to which no +earthly union could aspire ... how had he treated her? Even at this +thought a shudder of repulsion ran through him.... It was unnatural, +detestable ... yet how sweet...! What did the Church say of such +things...? But what if religion were wrong, and this indeed were the +satiety of the higher nature of which marriage was but the material +expression...?</p> + +<p>The thoughts flew swifter than clouds as he sat there, bewildering, +torturing, beckoning. He made a violent effort. He must be sane, and +face things.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent," he cried.</p> + +<p>The kindly face turned to him again.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent...."</p> + +<p>"Hush, I quite understand," said the fatherly voice. "It is a shock, I +know; but Truth is a little shocking sometimes. Wait. I perfectly +understand that you must have time. You must think it all over, and +verify this. You must not commit yourself. But I think you had better +have my address. The ladies are a little too emotional, are they not? +I expect you would sooner come to see me without them."</p> + +<p>He laid his card on the little tea-table and stood up.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Mr. Baxter."</p> + +<p>Laurie took his hand, and looked for a moment into the kind eyes. +Then the man was gone.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>That was a little while ago, now, and Laurie sitting over breakfast +had had time to think it out, and by an act of sustained will to +suspend his judgment.</p> + +<p>He had come back again to the state I have described—to nervous +interest—no more than that. The terror seemed gone, and certainly the +skepticism seemed gone too. Now he had to face Maggie and his mother, +and to see the grave....</p> + +<p>Somehow he had become more accustomed to the idea that there might be +real and solid truth under it all, and familiarity had bred ease. Yet +there was nervousness there too at the thought of going home. There +were moods in which, sitting or walking alone, he passionately desired +it all to be true; other moods in which he was acquiescent; but in +both there was a faint discomfort in the thought of meeting Maggie, +and a certain instinct of propitiation towards her. Maggie had begun +to stand for him as a kind of embodiment of a view of life which was +sane, wholesome, and curiously attractive; there was a largeness about +her, a strength, a sense of fresh air that was delightful. It was that +kind of thing, he thought, that had attracted him to her during this +past summer. The image of Amy, on the other hand, more than ever now +since those recent associations, stood for something quite +contrary—certainly for attractiveness, but of a feverish and vivid +kind, extraordinarily unlike the other. To express it in terms of +time, he thought of Maggie in the morning, and of Amy in the evening, +particularly after dinner. Maggie was cool and sunny; Amy suited +better the evening fever and artificial light.</p> + +<p>And now Maggie had to be faced.</p> + +<p>First he reflected that he had not breathed a hint, either to her or +his mother, as to what had passed. They both would believe that he had +dropped all this. There would then be no arguing, that at least was a +comfort. But there was a curious sense of isolation and division +between him and the girl.</p> + +<p>Yet, after all, he asked himself indignantly, what affair was it of +hers? She was not his confessor; she was just a convent-bred girl who +couldn't understand. He would be aloof and polite. That was the +attitude. And he would manage his own affairs.</p> + +<p>He drew a few brisk draughts of smoke from his pipe and stood up. +That was settled.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was in this determined mood then that he stepped out on to the +platform at the close of this wintry day, and saw Maggie, radiant in +furs, waiting for him, with her back to the orange sunset.</p> + +<p>These two did not kiss one another. It was thought better not. But he +took her hand with a pleasant sense of welcome and home-coming.</p> + +<p>"Auntie's in the brougham," she said. "There's lots of room for the +luggage on the top.... Oh! Laurie, how jolly this is!"</p> + +<p>It was a pleasant two-mile drive that they had. Laurie sat with his +back to the horses. His mother patted his knee once or twice under the +fur rug, and looked at him with benevolent pleasure. It seemed at +first a very delightful home-coming. Mrs. Baxter asked after Mr. +Morton, Laurie's coach, with proper deference.</p> + +<p>But places have as strong a power of retaining associations as +persons, and even as they turned down into the hamlet Laurie was aware +that this was particularly true just now. He carefully did not glance +out at Mr. Nugent's shop, but it was of no use. The whole place was as +full to him of the memory of Amy—and more than the memory, it +seemed—as if she was still alive. They drew up at the very gate where +he had whispered her name; the end of the yew walk, where he had sat +on a certain night, showed beyond the house; and half a mile behind +lay the meadows, darkling now, where he had first met her face to face +in the sunset, and the sluice of the stream where they had stood +together silent. And all was like a landscape seen through colored +paper by a child, it was of the uniform tint of death and sorrow.</p> + +<p>Laurie was rather quiet all that evening. His mother noticed it, and +it produced a remark from her that for an instant brought his heart +into his mouth.</p> + +<p>"You look a little peaked, dearest," she said, as she took her bedroom +candlestick from him. "You haven't been thinking any more about that +Spiritualism?"</p> + +<p>He handed a candlestick to Maggie, avoiding her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, for a bit," he said lightly, "but I haven't touched the thing for +over two months."</p> + +<p>He said it so well that even Maggie was reassured. She had just +hesitated for a fraction of a second to hear his answer, and she went +to bed well content.</p> + +<p>Her contentment was even deeper next morning when Laurie, calling to +her through the cheerful frosty air, made her stop at the turning to +the village on her way to church.</p> + +<p>"I'm coming," he said virtuously; "I haven't been on a weekday for +ages."</p> + +<p>They talked of this and that for the half-mile before them. At the +church door she hesitated again.</p> + +<p>"Laurie, I wish you'd come to the Protestant churchyard with me for a +moment afterwards, will you?"</p> + +<p>He paled so suddenly that she was startled.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he said shortly.</p> + +<p>"I want you to see something."</p> + +<p>He looked at her still for an instant with an incomprehensible +expression. Then he nodded with set lips.</p> + +<p>When she came out he was waiting for her. She determined to say +something of regret.</p> + +<p>"Laurie, I'm dreadfully sorry if I shouldn't have said that.... I was +stupid.... But perhaps—"</p> + +<p>"What is it you want me to see?" he said without the faintest +expression in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Just some flowers," she said. "You don't mind, do you?"</p> + +<p>She saw him trembling a little.</p> + +<p>"Was that all?"</p> + +<p>"Why yes.... What else could it be?"</p> + +<p>They went on a few steps without another word. At the church gate he +spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Its awfully good of you, Maggie ... I ... I'm rather upset still, you +know; that's all."</p> + +<p>He hurried, a little in front of her, over the frosty grass beyond the +church; and she saw him looking at the grave very earnestly as she +came up. He said nothing for a moment.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid the monument's rather ... rather awful.... Do you like the +flowers, Laurie?"</p> + +<p>She was noticing that the chrysanthemums were a little blackened by +the frost; and hardly attended to the fact that he did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Do you like the flowers?" she said again presently.</p> + +<p>He started from his prolonged stare downwards.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, yes," he said; "they're ... they're lovely.... Maggie, the +grave's all right, isn't it: the mound, I mean?"</p> + +<p>At first she hardly understood.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes ... what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>He sighed, whether in relief or not she did not know.</p> + +<p>"Only ... only I have heard of mounds sinking sometimes, or cracking +at the sides. But this one—"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," interrupted the girl. "But this was very bad yesterday.... +What's the matter, Laurie?"</p> + +<p>He had turned his face with some suddenness, and there was in it a +look of such terror that she herself was frightened.</p> + +<p>"What were you saying, Maggie?"</p> + +<p>"It was nothing of any importance," said the girl hurriedly. "It +wasn't in the least disfigured, if that—"</p> + +<p>"Maggie, will you please tell me exactly in what condition this grave +was yesterday? When was it put right?"</p> + +<p>"I ... I noticed it when I brought the chrysanthemums up yesterday +morning. The ground was sunk a little, and cracks were showing at the +sides. I told the sexton to put it right. He seems to have done it.... +Laurie, why do you look like that?"</p> + +<p>He was staring at her with an expression that might have meant +anything. She would not have been surprised if he had burst into a fit +of laughter. It was horrible and unnatural.</p> + +<p>"Laurie! Laurie! Don't look like that!"</p> + +<p>He turned suddenly away and left her. She hurried after him.</p> + +<p>On the way to the house he told her the whole story from beginning to +end.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>The two were sitting together in the little smoking-room at the back +of the house on the last night of Laurie's holidays. He was to go back +to town next morning.</p> + +<p>Maggie had passed a thoroughly miserable week. She had had to keep her +promise not to tell Mrs. Baxter—not that that lady would have been of +much service, but the very telling would be a relief—and things +really were not serious enough to justify her telling Father Mahon.</p> + +<p>To her the misery lay, not in any belief she had that the +spiritualistic claim was true, but that the boy could be so horribly +excited by it. She had gone over the arguments again and again with +him, approving heartily of his suggestions as to the earlier part of +the story, and suggesting herself what seemed to her the most sensible +explanation of the final detail. Graves did sink, she said, in two +cases out of three, and Laurie was as aware of that as herself. Why in +the world should not this then be attributed to the same subconscious +mind as that which, in the hypnotic sleep—or whatever it was—had +given voice to the rest of his imaginations? Laurie had shaken his +head. Now they were at it once more. Mrs. Baxter had gone to bed half +an hour before.</p> + +<p>"It's too wickedly grotesque," she said indignantly. "You can't +seriously believe that poor Amy's soul entered into your mind for an +hour and a half in Lady Laura's drawing-room. Why, what's purgatory, +then, or heaven? It's so utterly and ridiculously impossible that I +can't speak of it with patience."</p> + +<p>Laurie smiled at her rather wearily and contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"The point," he said, "is this: Which is the simplest hypothesis? You +and I both believe that the soul is somewhere; and it's natural, isn't +it, that she should want—oh! dash it all! Maggie, I think you should +remember that she was in love with me—as well as I with her," he +added.</p> + +<p>Maggie made a tiny mental note.</p> + +<p>"I don't deny for an instant that it's a very odd story," she +said. "But this kind of explanation is just—oh, I can't speak of +it. You allowed yourself that up to this last thing you didn't really +believe it; and now because of this coincidence the whole thing's +turned upside down. Laurie, I wish you'd be reasonable."</p> + +<p>Laurie glanced at her.</p> + +<p>She was sitting with her back to the curtained and shuttered window, +beyond which lay the yew-walk; and the lamplight from the tall stand +fell full upon her. She was dressed in some rich darkish material, her +breast veiled in filmy white stuff, and her round, strong arms lay, +bare to the elbow, along the arms of her chair. She was a very +pleasant wholesome sight. But her face was troubled, and her great +serene eyes were not so serene as usual. He was astonished at the +persistence with which she attacked him. Her whole personality seemed +thrown into her eyes and gestures and quick words.</p> + +<p>"Maggie," he said, "please listen. I've told you again and again that +I'm not actually convinced. What you say is just conceivably possible. +But it doesn't seem to me to be the most natural explanation. The most +natural seems to me to be what I have said; and you're quite right in +saying that it's this last thing that has made the difference. It's +exactly like the grain that turns the whole bottle into solid salt. It +needed that.... But, as I've said, I can't be actually and finally +convinced until I've seen more. I'm going to see more. I wrote to +Mr. Vincent this morning."</p> + +<p>"You did?" cried the girl.</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly, please.... Yes, I did. I told him I'd be at his +service when I came back to London. Not to have done that would have +been cowardly and absurd. I owe him that."</p> + +<p>"Laurie, I wish you wouldn't," said the girl pleadingly.</p> + +<p>He sat up a little, disturbed by this very unusual air of hers.</p> + +<p>"But if it's all such nonsense," he said, "what's there to be afraid +of?"</p> + +<p>"It's—it's morbid," said Maggie, "morbid and horrible. Of course it's +nonsense; but it's—it's wicked nonsense."</p> + +<p>Laurie flushed a little.</p> + +<p>"You're polite," he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," she said penitently. "But you know, really—"</p> + +<p>The boy suddenly blazed up a little.</p> + +<p>"You seem to think I've got no heart," he cried. "Suppose it was +true—suppose really and truly Amy was here, and—"</p> + +<p>A sudden clear sharp sound like the crack of a whip sounded from the +corner of the room. Even Maggie started and glanced at the boy. He was +dead white on the instant; his lips were trembling.</p> + +<p>"What was that?" he whispered sharp and loud.</p> + +<p>"Just the woodwork," she said tranquilly; "the thaw has set in +tonight."</p> + +<p>Laurie looked at her; his lips still moved nervously.</p> + +<p>"But—but—" he began.</p> + +<p>"Dear boy, don't you see the state of nerves—"</p> + +<p>Again came the little sharp crack, and she stopped. For an instant she +was disturbed; certain possibilities opened before her, and she +regarded them. Then she crushed them down, impatiently and half +timorously. She stood up abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to bed," she said. "This is too ridiculous—"</p> + +<p>"No, no; don't leave me ... Maggie ... I don't like it."</p> + +<p>She sat down again, wondering at his childishness, and yet conscious +that her own nerves, too, were ever so slightly on edge. She would not +look at him, for fear that the meeting of eyes might hint at more than +she meant. She threw her head back on her chair and remained looking +at the ceiling. But to think that the souls of the dead—ah, how +repulsive!</p> + +<p>Outside the night was very still.</p> + +<p>The hard frost had kept the world iron-bound in a sprinkle of snow +during the last two or three days, but this afternoon the thaw had +begun. Twice during dinner there had come the thud of masses of snow +falling from the roof on to the lawn outside, and the clear sparkle of +the candles had seemed a little dim and hazy. "It would be a comfort +to get at the garden again," she had reflected.</p> + +<p>And now that the two sat here in the windless silence the thaw became +more apparent every instant. The silence was profound, and the little +noises of the night outside, the drip from the eaves slow and +deliberate, the rustle of released leaves, and even the gentle thud on +the lawn from the yew branches—all these helped to emphasize the +stillness. It was not like the murmur of day; it was rather like the +gnawing of a mouse in the wainscot of some death chamber.</p> + +<p>It requires almost superhumanly strong nerves to sit at night, after a +conversation of this kind, opposite an apparently reasonable person +who is white and twitching with terror, even though one resolutely +refrains from looking at him, without being slightly affected. One may +argue with oneself to any extent, tap one's foot cheerfully on the +floor, fill the mind most painstakingly with normal thoughts; yet it +is something of a conflict, however victorious one may be.</p> + +<p>Even Maggie herself became aware of this.</p> + +<p>It was not that now for one single moment she allowed that the two +little sudden noises in the room could possibly proceed from any cause +whatever except that which she had stated—the relaxation of stiffened +wood under the influence of the thaw. Nor had all Laurie's arguments +prevailed to shake in the smallest degree her resolute conviction that +there was nothing whatever preternatural in his certainly queer story.</p> + +<p>Yet, as she sat there in the lamplight, with Laurie speechless before +her, and the great curtained window behind, she became conscious of an +uneasiness that she could not entirely repel. It was just physical, +she said; it was the result of the change of weather; or, at the most, +it was the silence that had now fallen and the proximity of a +terrified boy.</p> + +<p>She looked across at him again.</p> + +<p>He was lying back in the old green arm-chair, his eyes rather shadowed +from the lamp overhead, quite still and quiet, his hands still +clasping the lion bosses of his chair-arms. Beside him, on the little +table, lay his still smoldering cigarette-end in the silver tray....</p> + +<p>Maggie suddenly sprang to her feet, slipped round the table, and +caught him by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Laurie, Laurie, wake up.... What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>A long shudder passed through him. He sat up, with a bewildered look.</p> + +<p>"Eh? What is it?" he said. "Was I asleep?"</p> + +<p>He rubbed his hands over his eyes and looked round.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Maggie? Was I asleep?"</p> + +<p>Was the boy acting? Surely it was good acting! Maggie threw herself +down on her knees by the chair.</p> + +<p>"Laurie! Laurie! I beg you not to go to see Mr. Vincent. It's bad for +you.... I do wish you wouldn't."</p> + +<p>He still blinked at her a moment.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand. What do you mean, Maggie?"</p> + +<p>She stood up, ashamed of her impulsiveness.</p> + +<p>"Only I wish you wouldn't go and see that man. Laurie, please don't."</p> + +<p>He stood up too, stretching. Every sign of nervousness seemed gone.</p> + +<p>"Not see Mr. Vincent? Nonsense; of course I shall. You don't +understand, Maggie."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VII" id="Chapter_VII" /><i>Chapter VII</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>"What a relief," sighed Mrs. Stapleton. "I thought we had lost him."</p> + +<p>The three were sitting once again in Lady Laura's drawing-room soon +after lunch. Mr. Vincent had just looked in with Laurie's note to give +the news. It was a heavy fog outside, woolly in texture and orange in +color, and the tall windows seemed opaque in the lamplight; the room, +by contrast, appeared a safe and pleasant refuge from the reek and +stinging vapor of the street.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton had been lunching with her friend. The Colonel had +returned for Christmas, so his wife's duties had recalled her for the +present from those spiritual conversations which she had enjoyed in +the autumn. It was such a refreshment, she had said with a patient +smile, to slip away sometimes into the purer atmosphere.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent folded the letter and restored it to his pocket.</p> + +<p>"We must be careful with him," he said. "He is extraordinarily +sensitive. I almost wish he were not so developed. Temperaments like +his are apt to be thrown off their balance."</p> + +<p>Lady Laura was silent.</p> + +<p>For herself she was not perfectly happy. She had lately come across +one or two rather deplorable cases. A very promising girl, daughter of +a publican in the suburbs, had developed the same kind of powers, and +the end of it all had been rather a dreadful scene in Baker Street. +She was now in an asylum. A friend of her own, too, had lately taken +to lecturing against Christianity in rather painful terms. Lady Laura +wondered why people could not be as well balanced as herself.</p> + +<p>"I think he had better not come to the public <i>séances</i> at present," +went on the medium. "That, no doubt, will come later; but I was going +to ask a great favor from you, Lady Laura."</p> + +<p>She looked up.</p> + +<p>"That bother about the rooms is not yet settled, and the Sunday +<i>séances</i> will have to cease for the present. I wonder if you would +let us come here, just a few of us only, for three or four Sundays, at +any rate."</p> + +<p>She brightened up.</p> + +<p>"Why, it would be the greatest pleasure," she said. "But what about +the cabinet?"</p> + +<p>"If necessary, I would send one across. Will you allow me to make +arrangements?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton beamed.</p> + +<p>"What a privilege!" she said. "Dearest, I quite envy you. I am afraid +dear Tom would never consent—"</p> + +<p>"There are just one or two things on my mind," went on Mr. Vincent so +pleasantly that the interruption seemed almost a compliment, "and the +first is this. I want him to see for himself. Of course, for +ourselves, his trance is the point; but hardly for him. He is +tremendously impressed; I can see that; though he pretends not to +be. But I should like him to see something unmistakable as soon as +possible. We must prevent his going into trance, if possible.... And +the next thing is his religion."</p> + +<p>"Catholics are supposed not to come," observed Mrs. Stapleton.</p> + +<p>"Just so.... Mr. Baxter is a convert, isn't he...? I thought so."</p> + +<p>He mused for a moment or two.</p> + +<p>The ladies had never seen him so interested in an amateur. Usually his +manner was remarkable for its detachment and severe assurance; but it +seemed that this case excited even him. Lady Laura was filled again +with sudden compunction.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent," she said, "do you really think there is no danger for +this boy?"</p> + +<p>He glanced up at her.</p> + +<p>"There is always danger," he said. "We know that well enough. We can +but take precautions. But pioneers always have to risk something."</p> + +<p>She was not reassured.</p> + +<p>"But I mean special danger. He is extraordinarily sensitive, you know. +There was that girl from Surbiton...."</p> + +<p>"Oh! she was exceptionally hysterical. Mr. Baxter's not like that. I +do not see that he runs any greater risk than we run ourselves."</p> + +<p>"You are sure of that?"</p> + +<p>He smiled deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>"I am sure of nothing," he said. "But if you feel you would sooner +not—"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton rustled excitedly, and Lady Laura grabbed at her +retreating opportunity.</p> + +<p>"No, no," she cried. "I didn't mean that for one moment. Please, +please come here. I only wondered whether there was any particular +precaution—"</p> + +<p>"I will think about it," said the medium. "But I am sure we must be +careful not to shock him. Of course, we don't all take the same view +about religion; but we can leave that for the present. The point is +that Mr. Baxter should, if possible, see something unmistakable. The +rest can take care of itself.... Then, if you consent, Lady Laura, we +might have a little sitting here next Sunday night. Would nine o'clock +suit you?"</p> + +<p>He glanced at the two ladies.</p> + +<p>"That will do very well," said the mistress of the house. "And, about +preparations—"</p> + +<p>"I will look in on Saturday afternoon. Is there anyone particular you +think of asking?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Jamieson came to see me again a few days ago," suggested Lady +Laura tentatively.</p> + +<p>"That will do very well. Then we three and those two. That will be +quite enough for the present."</p> + +<p>He stood up—a big, dominating figure—a reassuring man to look at, +with his kindly face, his bushy, square beard, and his appearance of +physical strength. Lady Laura sat vaguely comforted.</p> + +<p>"And about my notes," asked Maud Stapleton.</p> + +<p>"I think they will not be necessary.... Good-day.... Saturday +afternoon."</p> + +<p>The two sat on silently for a minute or two after he was gone.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, dearest?"</p> + +<p>Lady Laura's little anxious face did not move. She was staring +thoughtfully at the fire. Mrs. Stapleton laid a sympathetic hand on +the other's knee.</p> + +<p>"Dearest—" she began.</p> + +<p>"No; it is nothing, darling," said Lady Laura.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Meanwhile the medium was picking his way through the foggy streets. +Figures loomed up, sudden and enormous, and vanished again. Smoky +flares of flame shone like spots of painted fire, bright and +unpenetrating, from windows overhead; and sounds came to him through +the woolly atmosphere, dulled and sonorous. It would, so to speak, +have been a suitably dramatic setting for his thoughts if he had been +thinking in character, vaguely suggestive of presences and hints and +peeps into the unknown.</p> + +<p>But he was a very practical man. His spiritualistic faith was a +reality to him, as unexciting as Christianity to the normal Christian; +he entertained no manner of doubt as to its truth.</p> + +<p>Beyond all the fraud, the self-deception, the amazing feats of the +subconscious self, there remained certain facts beyond doubting—facts +which required, he believed, an objective explanation, which none but +the spiritualistic thesis offered. He had far more evidence, he +considered sincerely enough, for his spiritualism than most Christians +for their Christianity.</p> + +<p>He had no very definite theory as to the spiritual world beyond +thinking that it was rather like this world. For him it was peopled +with individualities of various characters and temperaments, of +various grades and achievements; and of these a certain number had the +power of communicating under great difficulties with persons on this +side who were capable of receiving such communications. That there +were dangers connected with this process, he was well aware; he had +seen often enough the moral sense vanish and the mental powers decay. +But these were to him no more than the honorable wounds to which all +who struggle are liable. The point for him was that here lay the one +certain means of getting into touch with reality. Certainly that +reality was sometimes of a disconcerting nature, and seldom of an +illuminating one; he hated, as much as anyone, the tambourine +business, except so far as it was essential; and he deplored the fact +that, as he believed, it was often the most degraded and the least +satisfactory of the inhabitants of the other world that most easily +got into touch with the inhabitants of this. Yet, for him, the main +tenets of spiritualism were as the bones of the universe; it was the +only religion which seemed to him in the least worthy of serious +attention.</p> + +<p>He had not practiced as a medium for longer than ten or a dozen years. +He had discovered, by chance as he thought, that he possessed +mediumistic powers in an unusual degree, and had begun then to take up +the life as a profession. He had suffered, so far as he was aware, no +ill effects from this life, though he had seen others suffer; and, as +his fame grew, his income grew with it.</p> + +<p>It is necessary, then, to understand that he was not a conscious +charlatan; he loathed mechanical tricks such as he occasionally came +across; he was perfectly and serenely convinced that the powers which +he possessed were genuine, and that the personages he seemed to come +across in his mediumistic efforts were what they professed to be; that +they were not hallucinatory, that they were not the products of fraud, +that they were not necessarily evil. He regarded this religion as he +regarded science; both were progressive, both liable to error, both +capable of abuse. Yet as a scientist did not shrink from experiment +for fear of risk, neither must the spiritualist.</p> + +<p>As he picked his way to his lodgings on the north of the park, he was +thinking about Laurie Baxter. That this boy possessed in an unusual +degree what he would have called "occult powers" was very evident to +him. That these powers involved a certain risk was evident too. He +proposed, therefore, to take all reasonable precautions. All the +catastrophes he had witnessed in the past were due, he thought, to a +too rapid development of those powers, or to inexperience. He +determined, therefore, to go slowly.</p> + +<p>First, the boy must be convinced; next, he must be attached to the +cause; thirdly, his religion must be knocked out of him; fourthly, he +must be trained and developed. But for the present he must not be +allowed to go into trance if it could be prevented. It was plain, he +thought, that Laurie had a very strong "affinity," as he would have +said, with the disembodied spirit of a certain "Amy Nugent." His +communication with her had been of a very startling nature in its +rapidity and perfection. Real progress might be made, then, through +this channel.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Yes; I am aware that this sounds grotesque nonsense.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>Laurie came back to town in a condition of interior quietness that +rather astonished him. He had said to Maggie that he was not +convinced; and that was true so far as he knew. Intellectually, the +spiritualistic theory was at present only the hypothesis that seemed +the most reasonable; yet morally he was as convinced of its truth as +of anything in the world. And this showed itself by the quietness in +which he found his soul plunged.</p> + +<p>Moral conviction—that conviction on which a man acts—does not always +coincide with the intellectual process. Occasionally it outruns it; +occasionally lags behind; and the first sign of its arrival is the +cessation of strain. The intellect may still be busy, arranging, +sorting, and classifying; but the thing itself is done, and the soul +leans back.</p> + +<p>A certain amount of excitement made itself felt when he found Mr. +Vincent's letter waiting for his arrival to congratulate him on his +decision, and to beg him to be at Queen's Gate not later than +half-past eight o'clock on the following Sunday; but it was not more +than momentary. He knew the thing to be inevitably true now; the time +and place at which it manifested itself was not supremely important.</p> + +<p>Yes, he wrote in answer; he would certainly keep the appointment +suggested.</p> + +<p>He dined out at a restaurant, returned to his rooms, and sat down to +arrange his ideas.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>These, to be frank, were not very many, nor very profound.</p> + +<p>He had already, in the days that had passed since his shock, no +lighter because expected, when he had learned from Maggie that the +test was fulfilled, and that a fact known to no one present, not even +himself, in Queen's Gate, had been communicated through his +lips—since that time the idea had become familiar that the veil +between this world and the next was a very thin one. After all, a +large number of persons in the world believe that, as it is; and they +are not, in consequence, in a continuous state of exaltation. Laurie +had learned this, he thought, experimentally. Very well, then, that +was so; there was no more to be said.</p> + +<p>Next, the excitement of the thought of communicating with Amy in +particular had to a large extent burned itself out. It was nearly four +months since her death; and in his very heart of hearts he was +beginning to be aware that she had not been so entirely his twin-soul +as he would still have maintained. He had reflected a little, in the +meantime, upon the grocer's shop, the dissenting tea-parties, the odor +of cheeses. Certainly these things could not destroy an "affinity" if +the affinity were robust; but it would need to be....</p> + +<p>He was still very tender towards the thought of her; she had gained +too, inevitably, by dying, a dignity she had lacked while living, and +it might well be that intercourse with her in the manner proposed +would be an extraordinarily sweet experience. But he was no longer +excited—passionately and overwhelmingly—by the prospect. It would be +delightful? Yes. But....</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Then Laurie began to look at his religion, and at that view he stopped +dead. He had no ideas at all on the subject; he had not a notion where +he stood. All he knew was that it had become uninteresting. True? Oh, +yes, he supposed so. He retained it still as many retain faith in the +supernatural—a reserve that could be drawn upon in extremities.</p> + +<p>He had not yet missed hearing Mass on Sunday; in fact, he proposed to +go even next Sunday. "A man must have a religion," he said to himself; +and, intellectually, there was at present no other possible religion +for him except the Catholic. Yet as he looked into the future he was +doubtful.</p> + +<p>He drew himself up in his chair and began to fill his pipe.... In +three days he would be seated in a room with three or four persons, he +supposed. Of these, two—and certainly the two strongest +characters—had no religion except that supplied by spiritualism, and +he had read enough to know this was, at any rate in the long run, +non-Christian. And these three or four persons, moreover, believed +with their whole hearts that they were in relations with the invisible +world, far more evident and sensible than those claimed by any other +believers on the face of the earth. And, after all, Laurie reflected, +there seemed to be justice in their claim. He would be seated in that +room, he repeated to himself, and it might be that before he left it +he would have seen with his own eyes, and possibly handled, living +persons who had, in the common phrase, "died" and been buried. Almost +certainly, at the very least, he would have received from such +intelligences unmistakable messages....</p> + +<p>He was astonished that he was not more excited. He asked himself again +whether he really believed it; he compared his belief in it with his +belief in the existence of New Zealand. Yes, if that were belief, he +had it. But the excitement of doubt was gone, as no doubt it was gone +when New Zealand became a geographical expression.</p> + +<p>He was astonished at its naturalness—at the extraordinary manner in +which, when once the evidence had been seen and the point of view +grasped, the whole thing fell into place. It seemed to him as if he +must have known it all his life; yet, he knew, six months ago he had +hardly known more than that there were upon the face of the earth +persons called Spiritualists, who believed, or pretended to believe, +what he then was quite sure was fantastic nonsense. And now he was, to +all intents, one of them....</p> + +<p>He was being drawn forward, it seemed, by a process as inevitable as +that of spring or autumn; and, once he had yielded to it, the conflict +and the excitement were over. Certainly this made very few demands. +Christianity said that those were blessed who had not seen and yet +believed; Spiritualism said that the only reasonable belief was that +which followed seeing.</p> + +<p>So then Laurie sat and meditated.</p> + +<p>Once or twice that evening he looked round him tranquilly without a +touch of that terror that had seized him in the smoking-room at home.</p> + +<p>If all this were true—and he repeated to himself that he knew it was +true—these presences were about him now, so why was it that he was no +longer frightened?</p> + +<p>He looked carefully into the dark corner behind him, beyond the low +jutting bookshelf, in the angle between the curtained windows, at his +piano, glossy and mysterious in the gloom, at the door half-open into +his bedroom. All was quiet here, shut off from the hum of Fleet +Street; circumstances were propitious. Why was he not frightened...? +Why, what was there to frighten him? These presences were natural and +normal; even as a Catholic he believed in them. And if they manifested +themselves, what was there to fear in that?</p> + +<p>He looked steadily and serenely; and as he looked, like the kindling +of a fire, there rose within him a sense of strange exaltation.</p> + +<p>"Amy," he whispered.</p> + +<p>But there was no movement or hint.</p> + +<p>Laurie smiled a little, wearily. He felt tired; he would sleep a +little. He beat out his pipe, crossed his feet before the fire, and +closed his eyes.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>There followed that smooth rush into gulfs of sleep that provides +perhaps the most exquisite physical sensation known to man, as the +veils fall thicker and softer every instant, and the consciousness +gathers itself inwards from hands and feet and limbs, like a dog +curling himself up for rest; yet retains itself in continuous being, +and is able to regard its own comfort. All this he remembered +perfectly half an hour later; but there followed in his memory that +inevitable gap in which self loses itself before emerging into the +phantom land of dreams, or returning to reality.</p> + +<p>But that into which he emerged, he remembered afterwards, was a +different realm altogether from that which is usual—from that country +of grotesque fancy and jumbled thoughts, of thin shadows of truth and +echoes from the common world where most of us find ourselves in sleep.</p> + +<p>His dream was as follows:—</p> + +<p>He was still in his room, he thought, but no longer in his chair. +Instead, he stood in the very center of the floor, or at least poised +somewhere above it, for he could see at a glance, without turning, all +that the room contained. He directed his attention—for it was this, +rather than sight, through which he perceived—to the piano, the +chiffonier, the chairs, the two doors, the curtained windows; and +finally, with scarcely even a touch of surprise, to himself still sunk +in the chair before the fire. He regarded himself with pleased +interest, remembering even in that instant that he had never before +seen himself with closed eyes....</p> + +<p>All in the room was extraordinarily vivid and clear-cut. It was true +that the firelight still wavered and sank again in billows of soft +color about the shadowed walls, but the changing light was no more an +interruption to the action of that steady medium through which he +perceived than the movement of summer clouds across the full sunlight. +It was at that moment that he understood that he saw no longer with +eyes, but with that faculty of perception to which sight is only +analogous—that faculty which underlies and is common to all the +senses alike.</p> + +<p>His reasoning powers, too, at this moment, seemed to have gone from +him like a husk. He did not argue or deduce; simply he understood. +And, in a flash, simultaneous with the whole vision, he perceived that +he was behind all the slow processes of the world, by which this is +added to that, and a conclusion drawn; by which light travels, and +sounds resolve themselves and emotions run their course. He had +reached, he thought, the ultimate secret.... It was This that lay +behind everything.</p> + +<p>Now it is impossible to set down, except progressively, all this sum +of experiences that occupied for him one interminable instant. Neither +did he remember afterwards the order in which they presented +themselves; for it seemed to him that there was no order; all was +simultaneous.</p> + +<p>But he understood plainly by intuition that all was open to him. +Space no longer existed for him; nothing, to his perception, separated +this from that. He was able, he saw, without stirring from his +attitude to see in an instant any place or person towards which he +chose to exercise his attention. It seemed a marvelously simple point, +this—that space was little more than an illusion; that it was, after +all, nothing else but a translation into rather coarse terms of what +may be called "differences." "Here" and "There" were but relative +terms; certainly they corresponded to facts, but they were not those +facts themselves.... And since he now stood behind them he saw them on +their inner side, as a man standing in the interior of a globe may be +said to be equally present to every point upon its surface.</p> + +<p>The fascination of the thought was enormous; and, like a child who +begins to take notice and to learn the laws of extension and distance, +so he began to learn their reverse. He saw, he thought (as he had seen +once before, only, this time, without the sense of movement), the +interior of the lighted drawing room at home, and his mother nodding +in her chair; he directed his attention to Maggie, and perceived her +passing across the landing toward the head of the stairs with a candle +in her hand. It was this sight that brought him to a further +discovery, to the effect that time also was of very nearly no +importance either; for he perceived that by bending his attention upon +her he could restrain her, so to speak, in her movement. There she +stood, one foot outstretched, the candle flame leaning motionless +backward; and he knew too that it was not she who was thus restrained, +but that it was the intensity and directness of his thought that +fixed, so to say, in terms of eternity, that instant of time....</p> + +<p>So it went on; or, rather, so it was with him. He pleased himself by +contemplating the London streets outside, the darkness of the garden +in some square, the interior of the Oratory where a few figures +kneeled—all seen beyond the movements of light and shadow in this +clear invisible radiance that was to his perception as common light to +common eyes. The world of which he had had experience—for he found +himself unable to see that which he had never experienced—lay before +his will like a movable map: this or that person or place had but to +be desired, and it was present.</p> + +<p>And then came the return; and the Horror....</p> + +<p>He began in this way.</p> + +<p>He understood that he wished to awake, or, rather, to be reunited with +the body that lay there in deep sleep before the fire. He observed it +for a moment or two, interested and pleased, the face sunk a little on +the hand, the feet lightly crossed on the fender. He looked at his own +profile, the straight nose, the parted lips through which the breath +came evenly. He attempted even to touch the face, wondering with +gentle pleasure what would be the result....</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, an impulse came to him to enter the body, and with the +impulse the process, it seemed, began.</p> + +<p>That process was not unlike that of falling asleep. In an instant +perception was gone; the lighted room was gone, and that obedient +world which he had contemplated just now. Yet self-consciousness for a +while remained; he still had the power of perceiving his own +personality, though this dwindled every moment down to that same gulf +of nothingness through which he had found his way.</p> + +<p>But at the very instant in which consciousness was passing there met +him an emotion so fierce and overwhelming that he recoiled in terror +back from the body once more and earth-perceptions; and a panic seized +him.</p> + +<p>It was such a panic as seizes a child who, fearfully courageous, has +stolen at night from his room, and turning in half-simulated terror +finds the door fast against him, or is aware of a malignant presence +come suddenly into being, standing between himself and the safety of +his own bed.</p> + +<p>On the one side his fear drove him onwards; on the other a Horror +faced him. He dared not recoil, for he understood where security lay; +he longed, like the child screaming in the dark and beating his hands, +to get back to the warmth and safety of bed; yet there stood before +him a Presence, or at the least an Emotion of some kind, so hostile, +so terrible, that he dared not penetrate it. It was not that an actual +restraint lay upon him: he knew, that is, that the door was open; yet +it needed an effort of the will of which his paralysis of terror +rendered him incapable....</p> + +<p>The tension became intolerable.</p> + +<p>"O God ... God ... God...." he cried.</p> + +<p>And in an instant the threshold was vacated; the swift rush asserted +itself, and the space was passed.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Laurie sat up abruptly in his chair.</p> + + +<h2>IV</h2> + +<p>Mr. Vincent was beginning to think about going to bed. He had come in +an hour before, had written half a dozen letters, and was smoking +peacefully before the fire.</p> + +<p>His rooms were not remarkable in any way, except for half a dozen +objects standing on the second shelf of his bookcase, and the +selection of literature ranged below them. For the rest, all was +commonplace enough; a mahogany knee-hold table, a couple of easy +chairs, much worn, and a long, extremely comfortable sofa standing by +itself against the wall with evident signs, in its tumbled cushions +and rubbed fabric, of continual and frequent use. A second door gave +entrance to his bedroom.</p> + +<p>He beat out his pipe slowly, yawned, and stood up.</p> + +<p>It was at this instant that he heard the sudden tinkle of the electric +bell in the lobby outside, and, wondering at the interruption at this +hour, went quickly out and opened the door on to the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baxter! Come in, come in; I'm delighted to see you."</p> + +<p>Laurie came in without a word, went straight up to the fire-place, and +faced about.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to apologize," he said, "for coming at this time. You +told me to come and see you at any time, and I've taken you at your +word."</p> + +<p>The young man had an odd embarrassed manner, thought the other; an air +of having come in spite of uneasiness; he was almost shamefaced.</p> + +<p>The medium impelled him gently into a chair.</p> + +<p>"First a cigarette," he said; "next a little whisky, and then I shall +be delighted to listen.... No; please do as I say."</p> + +<p>Laurie permitted himself to be managed; there was a strong, almost +paternal air in the other's manner that was difficult to resist. He +lit his cigarette, he sipped his whisky; but his movements were +nervously quick.</p> + +<p>"Well, then...." and he interrupted himself. "What are those things, +Mr. Vincent?" He nodded towards the second shelf in the bookcase.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent turned on the hearthrug.</p> + +<p>"Those? Oh! those are a few rather elementary instruments for my +work."</p> + +<p>He lifted down a crystal ball on a small black polished wooden stand +and handed it over.</p> + +<p>"You have heard of crystal-gazing? Well, that is the article."</p> + +<p>"Is that crystal?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no: common glass. Price three shillings and sixpence."</p> + +<p>Laurie turned it over, letting the shining globe run on to his hand.</p> + +<p>"And this is—" he began.</p> + +<p>"And this," said the medium, setting a curious windmill-shaped affair, +its sails lined with looking-glass, on the little table by the fire, +"this is a French toy. Very elementary."</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"Look."</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent wound a small handle at the back of the windmill to a +sound of clockwork, set it down again, and released it. Instantly the +sails began to revolve, noiseless and swift, producing the effect of a +rapidly flashing circle of light across which span lines, waxing and +waning with extraordinary speed.</p> + +<p>"What the—"</p> + +<p>"It's a little machine for inducing sleep. Oh! I haven't used that for +months. But it's useful sometimes. The hypnotic subject just stares at +that steadily.... Why, you're looking dazed yourself, already, +Mr. Baxter," smiled the medium.</p> + +<p>He stopped the mechanism and pushed it on one side.</p> + +<p>"And what's the other?" asked Laurie, looking again at the shelf.</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>The medium, with quite a different air, took down and set before him +an object resembling a tiny heart-shaped table on three wheeled legs, +perhaps four or five inches across. Through the center ran a pencil +perpendicularly of which the point just touched the tablecloth on +which the thing rested. Laurie looked at it, and glanced up.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's Planchette," said the medium.</p> + +<p>"For ... for automatic writing?"</p> + +<p>The other nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said. "The experimenter puts his fingers lightly upon that, +and there's a sheet of paper beneath. That is all."</p> + +<p>Laurie looked at him, half curiously. Then with a sudden movement he +stood up.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said. "Thank you. But—"</p> + +<p>"Please sit down, Mr. Baxter.... I know you haven't come about that +kind of thing. Will you kindly tell me what you have come about?"</p> + +<p>He, too, sat down, and, without looking at the other, began slowly to +fill his pipe again, with his strong capable fingers. Laurie stared at +the process, unseeing.</p> + +<p>"Just tell me simply," said the medium again, still without looking at +him.</p> + +<p>Laurie threw himself back.</p> + +<p>"Well, I will," he said. "I know it's absurdly childish; but I'm a +little frightened. It's about a dream."</p> + +<p>"That's not necessarily childish."</p> + +<p>"It's a dream I had tonight—in my chair after dinner."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Then Laurie began.</p> + +<p>For about ten minutes he talked without ceasing. Mr. Vincent smoked +tranquilly, putting what seemed to Laurie quite unimportant questions +now and again, and nodding gently from time to time.</p> + +<p>"And I'm frightened," ended Laurie; "and I want you to tell me what it +all means."</p> + +<p>The other drew a long inhalation through his pipe, expelled it, and +leaned back.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's comparatively common," he said; "common, that is, with +people of your temperament, Mr. Baxter—and mine.... You tell me that +it was prayer that enabled you to get through at the end? That is +interesting."</p> + +<p>"But—but—was it more than fancy—more, I mean, than an ordinary +dream?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; it was objective. It was a real experience."</p> + +<p>"You mean—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baxter, just listen to me for a minute or two. You can ask any +questions you like at the end. First, you are a Catholic, you told me; +you believe, that is to say, among other things, that the spiritual +world is a real thing, always present more or less. Well, of course, I +agree with you; though I do not agree with you altogether as to the +geography and—and other details of that world. But you believe, I +take it, that this world is continually with us—that this room, so to +speak, is a great deal more than that of which our senses tell us that +there are with us, now and always, a multitude of influences, good, +bad, and indifferent, really present to our spirits?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said Laurie.</p> + +<p>"Now begin again. There are two kinds of dreams. I am just stating my +own belief, Mr. Baxter. You can make what comments you like +afterwards. The one kind of dream is entirely unimportant; it is +merely a hash, a <i>réchauffée</i>, of our own thoughts, in which little +things that we have experienced reappear in a hopeless sort of +confusion. It is the kind of dream that we forget altogether, +generally, five minutes after waking, if not before. But there is +another kind of dream that we do not forget. It leaves as vivid an +impression upon us as if it were a waking experience—an actual +incident. And that is exactly what it is."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever heard of the subliminal consciousness, Mr. Baxter?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>The medium smiled.</p> + +<p>"That is fortunate," he said. "It's being run to death just +now.... Well, I'll put it in an untechnical way. There is a part of +us, is there not, that lies below our ordinary waking thoughts—that +part of us in which our dreams reside, our habits take shape, our +instincts, intuitions, and all the rest, are generated. Well, in +ordinary dreams, when we are asleep, it is this part that is active. +The pot boils, so to speak, all by itself, uncontrolled by reason. A +madman is a man in whom this part is supreme in his waking life as +well. Well, it is through this part of us that we communicate with the +spiritual world. There are, let us say, two doors in it—that which +leads up to our senses, through which come down our waking experiences +to be stored up; and—and the other door...."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>The medium hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "in some natures—yours, for instance, Mr. +Baxter—this door opens rather easily. It was through that door that +you went, I think, in what you call your 'dream.' You yourself said it +was quite unlike ordinary dreams."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And I am the more sure that this is so, since your experience is +exactly that of so many others under the same circumstances."</p> + +<p>Laurie moved uncomfortably in his chair.</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand," he said sharply. "You mean it was not a +dream?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. At least, not a dream in the ordinary sense. It was an +actual experience."</p> + +<p>"But—but I was asleep."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. That is one of the usual conditions—an almost +indispensable condition, in fact. The objective self—I mean the +ordinary workaday faculties—was lulled; and your subjective +self—call it what you like—but it is your real self, the essential +self that survives death—this self, simply went through the inner +door, and—and saw what was to be seen."</p> + +<p>Laurie looked at him intently. But there was a touch of apprehension +in his face, too.</p> + +<p>"You mean," he said slowly, "that—that all I saw—the limitations of +space, and so forth—that these were facts and not fancies?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Doesn't your theology hint at something of the kind?"</p> + +<p>Laurie was silent. He had no idea of what his theology told him on the +point.</p> + +<p>"But why should I—I of all people—have such an experience?" he asked +suddenly.</p> + +<p>The medium smiled.</p> + +<p>"Who can tell that?" he said. "Why should one man be an artist, and +another not? It is a matter of temperament. You see you've begun to +develop that temperament at last; and it's a very marked one to begin +with. As for—"</p> + +<p>Laurie interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he said. "But there's another point. What about that fear +I had when I tried to—to awaken?"</p> + +<p>There passed over the medium's face a shade of gravity. It was no more +than a shade, but it was there. He reached out rather quickly for his +pipe which he had laid aside, and blew through it carefully before +answering.</p> + +<p>"That?" he said, with what seemed to the boy an affected carelessness. +"That? Oh, that's a common experience. Don't think about that too +much, Mr. Baxter. It's never very healthy—"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," said Laurie deliberately. "But I must ask you to tell me +what you think. I must know what I'm doing."</p> + +<p>The medium filled his pipe again. Twice he began to speak, and checked +himself; and in the long silence Laurie felt his fears gather upon him +tenfold.</p> + +<p>"Please tell me at once, Mr. Vincent," he said. "Unless I know +everything that is to be known, I will not go another step along this +road. I really mean that."</p> + +<p>The medium paused in his pipe-filling.</p> + +<p>"And what if I do tell you?" he said in his slow virile voice. "Are +you sure you will not be turned back?"</p> + +<p>"If it is a well-known danger, and can be avoided with prudence, I +certainly shall not turn back."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Mr. Baxter, I will take you at your word.... Have you ever +heard the phrase, 'The Watcher on the Threshold'?"</p> + +<p>Laurie shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No," he said. "At least I don't think so."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the medium quietly, "that is what we call the Fear you +spoke of.... No; don't interrupt. I'll tell you all we know. It's not +very much."</p> + +<p>He paused again, stretched his hand for the matches, and took one +out. Laurie watched him as if fascinated by the action.</p> + +<p>Outside roared Oxford Street in one long rolling sound as of the sea; +but within here was that quiet retired silence which the boy had +noticed before in the same company. Was that fancy, too, he +wondered...?</p> + +<p>The medium lit his pipe and leaned back.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you all we know," he said again quietly. "It's not very +much. Really the phrase I used just now sums it up pretty well. We +who have tried to get beyond this world of sense have become aware of +certain facts of which the world generally knows nothing at all. One +of these facts is that the door between this life and the other is +guarded by a certain being of whom we know really nothing at all, +except that his presence causes the most appalling fear in those who +experience it. He is set there—God only knows why—and his main +business seems to be to restrain, if possible, from re-entering the +body those who have left it. Just occasionally his presence is +perceived by those on this side, but not often. But I have been +present at death-beds where he has been seen—"</p> + +<p>"Seen?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes. Seen by the dying person. It is usually only a glimpse; it +might be said to be a mistake. For myself I believe that that +appalling terror that now and then shows itself, even in people who do +not fear death itself, who are perfectly resigned, who have nothing on +their conscience,—well, personally, I believe the fear comes from a +sight of this—this Personage."</p> + +<p>Laurie licked his dry lips. He told himself that he did not believe +one word of it.</p> + +<p>"And ... and he is evil?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The other shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that a relative term?" he said. "From one point of view, +certainly; but not necessarily from all."</p> + +<p>"And ... and what's the good of it?"</p> + +<p>The medium smiled a little.</p> + +<p>"That's a question we soon cease to ask. You must remember that we +hardly know anything at all yet. But one thing seems more and more +certain the more we investigate, and that is that our point of view is +not the only one, nor even the principal one. Christianity, I fancy, +says the same thing, does it not? The 'glory of God,' whatever that +may be, comes before even the 'salvation of souls.'"</p> + +<p>Laurie wrenched his attention once more to a focus.</p> + +<p>"Then I was in danger?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. We are always in danger—"</p> + +<p>"You mean, if I hadn't prayed—"</p> + +<p>"Ah! that is another question.... But, in short, if you hadn't +succeeded in getting past—well, you'd have failed."</p> + +<p>Again there fell a silence.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Laurie as if his world were falling about him. Yet he was +far from sure whether it were not all an illusion. But the extreme +quietness and confidence of this man in enunciating these startling +theories had their effect. It was practically impossible for the boy +to sit here, still nervous from his experience, and hear, unmoved, +this apparently reasonable and connected account of things that were +certainly incomprehensible on any other hypothesis. His remembrance of +the very startling uniqueness of his dream was still vivid.... Surely +it all fitted in ... yet....</p> + +<p>"But there is one thing," broke in the medium's quiet voice. "Should +you ever experience this kind of thing again, I should recommend you +not to pray. Just exercise your own individuality; assert yourself; +don't lean on another. You are quite strong enough."</p> + +<p>"You mean—"</p> + +<p>"I mean exactly what I say. What is called Prayer is really an +imaginative concession to weakness. Take the short cut, rather. Assert +your own—your own individuality."</p> + +<p>Laurie changed his attitude. He uncrossed his feet and sat up a +little.</p> + +<p>"Oh! pray if you want to," said the medium. "But you must remember, +Mr. Baxter, that you are quite an exceptional person. I assure you +that you have no conception of your own powers. I must say that I hope +you will take the strong line." He paused. "These <i>séances</i>, for +instance. Now that you know a little more of the dangers, are you +going to turn back?"</p> + +<p>His overhung kindly eyes looked out keenly for an instant at the boy's +restless face.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Laurie; "I must think...."</p> + +<p>He got up.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Mr. Vincent," he said, "it seems to me you're +extraordinarily—er—extraordinarily plausible. But I'm even now not +quite sure whether I'm not going mad. It's like a perfectly mad +dream—all these things one on the top of the other."</p> + +<p>He paused, looking sharply at the elder man, and away again.</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>Laurie began to finger a pencil that lay on the chimney-shelf.</p> + +<p>"You see what I mean, don't you?" he said. "I'm not +disputing—er—your point of view, nor your sincerity. But I do wish +you would give me another proof or two."</p> + +<p>"You haven't had enough?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I suppose I have—if I were reasonable. But, you know, it all +seems to me as if you suddenly demonstrated to me that twice two made +five."</p> + +<p>"But then, surely no proof—"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I know. I quite see that. Yet I want one—something quite +absolutely ordinary. If you can do all these things—spirits and all +the rest—can't you do something ever so much simpler, that's beyond +mistake?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I daresay. But wouldn't you ask yet another after that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Or wouldn't you think you'd been hypnotized?"</p> + +<p>Laurie shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I'm not a fool," he said.</p> + +<p>"Then give me that pencil," said the medium, suddenly extending his +hand.</p> + +<p>Laurie stared a moment. Then he handed over the pencil.</p> + +<p>On the little table by the arm-chair, a couple of feet from Laurie, +stood the whisky apparatus and a box of cigarettes. These the medium, +without moving from his chair, lifted off and set on the floor beside +him, leaving the woven-grass surface of the table entirely bare. He +then laid the pencil gently in the center—all without a word. Laurie +watched him carefully.</p> + +<p>"Now kindly do not speak one word or make one movement," said the man +peremptorily. "Wait! You're perfectly sure you're not hypnotized, or +any other nonsense?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not."</p> + +<p>"Just go round the room, look out of the window, poke the +fire—anything you like."</p> + +<p>"I'm satisfied," said the boy.</p> + +<p>"Very good. Then kindly watch that pencil."</p> + +<p>The medium leaned a little forward in his chair, bending his eyes +steadily upon the little wooden cylinder lying, like any other pencil, +on the top of the table. Laurie glanced once at him, then back +again. There it lay, common and ordinary.</p> + +<p>For at least a minute nothing happened at all, except that from the +intentness of the elder man there seemed once more to radiate out that +curious air of silence that Laurie was beginning to know so well—that +silence that seemed impenetrable to the common sounds of the world and +to exist altogether independent of them. Once and again he glanced +round at the ordinary-looking room, the curtained windows, the dull +furniture; and the second time he looked back at the pencil he was +almost certain that some movement had just taken place with it. He +resolutely fixed his eyes upon it, bending every faculty he possessed +into one tense attitude of attention. And a moment later he could not +resist a sudden movement and a swift indrawing of breath; for there, +before his very eyes, the pencil tilted, very hesitatingly and +quiveringly, as if pulled by a spider's thread. He heard, too, the +tiny tap of its fall.</p> + +<p>He glanced at the medium, who jerked his head impatiently, as if for +silence. Then once more the silence came down.</p> + +<p>A minute later there was no longer the possibility of a doubt.</p> + +<p>There before the boy's eyes, as he stared, white-faced, with parted +lips, the pencil rose, hesitated, quivered; but, instead of falling +back again, hung so for a moment on its point, forming with itself an +acute angle with the plane of the table in an entirely impossible +position; then, once more rising higher, swung on its point in a +quarter circle, and after one more pause and quiver, rose to its full +height, remained poised one instant, then fell with a sudden movement, +rolled across the table and dropped on the carpet.</p> + +<p>The medium leaned back, drawing a long breath.</p> + +<p>"There," he said; and smiled at the bewildered young man.</p> + +<p>"But—but—" began the other.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," said the man. "It's startling, isn't it? and indeed +it's not as easy as it looks. I wasn't at all sure—"</p> + +<p>"But, good Lord, I saw—"</p> + +<p>"Of course you did; but how do you know you weren't hypnotized?"</p> + +<p>Laurie sat down suddenly, unconscious that he had done so. The medium +put out his hand for his pipe once more.</p> + +<p>"Now, I'm going to be quite honest," he said. "I have quite a quantity +of comments to make on that. First, it doesn't prove anything +whatever, even if it really happened—"</p> + +<p>"Even if it—!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly.... Oh, yes; I saw it too; and there's the pencil on the +floor"—he stooped and picked it up.</p> + +<p>"But what if we were both hypnotized—both acted upon by +self-suggestion? We can't prove we weren't."</p> + +<p>Laurie was dumb.</p> + +<p>"Secondly, it doesn't prove anything, in any case, as regards the +other matters we were speaking of. It only shows—if it really +happened, as I say—that the mind has extraordinary control over +matter. It hasn't anything to do with immortality, or—or +spiritualism."</p> + +<p>"Then why did you do it?" gasped the boy.</p> + +<p>"Merely fireworks ... only to show off. People are convinced by such +queer things."</p> + +<p>Laurie sat regarding, still with an unusual pallor in his face and +brightness in his eyes. He could not in the last degree put into words +why it was that the tiny incident of the pencil affected him so +profoundly. Vaguely, only, he perceived that it was all connected +somehow with the ordinariness of the accessories, and more impressive +therefore than all the paraphernalia of planchette, spinning mirrors, +or even his own dreams.</p> + +<p>He stood up again suddenly.</p> + +<p>"It's no good, Mr. Vincent," he said, putting out his hand, "I'm +knocked over. I can't imagine why. It's no use talking now. I must +think. Good night."</p> + +<p>"Good night, Mr. Baxter," said the medium serenely.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VIII" id="Chapter_VIII" /><i>Chapter VIII</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>"Her ladyship told me to show you in here, sir," said the footman at +half-past eight on Sunday evening.</p> + +<p>Laurie put down his hat, slipped off his coat, and went into the +dining room.</p> + +<p>The table was still littered with dessert-plates and napkins. Two +people had dined there he observed. He went round to the fire, +wondering vaguely as to why he had not been shown upstairs, and stood, +warming his hands behind him, and looking at the pleasant gloom of the +high picture-hung walls.</p> + +<p>In spite of himself he felt slightly more excited than he had thought +he would be; it was one thing to be philosophical at a prospect of +three days' distance; and another when the gates of death actually +rise in sight. He wondered in what mood he would see his own rooms +again. Then he yawned slightly—and was a little pleased that it was +natural to yawn.</p> + +<p>There was a rustle outside; the door opened, and Lady Laura slipped +in.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Mr. Baxter," she said. "I wanted to have just a word with +you first. Please sit down a moment."</p> + +<p>She seemed a little anxious and upset, thought Laurie, as he sat down +and looked at her in her evening dress with the emblematic chain more +apparent than ever. Her frizzed hair sat as usual on the top of her +head, and her pince-nez glimmered at him across the hearthrug like the +eyes of a cat.</p> + +<p>"It is this," she said hurriedly. "I felt I must just speak to you. I +wasn't sure whether you quite realized the ... the dangers of all +this. I didn't want you to ... to run any risks in my house. I should +feel responsible, you know."</p> + +<p>She laughed nervously.</p> + +<p>"Risks? Would you mind explaining?" said Laurie.</p> + +<p>"There ... there are always risks, you know."</p> + +<p>"What sort?"</p> + +<p>"Oh ... you know ... nerves, and so on. I ... I have seen people very +much upset at <i>séances</i>, more than once."</p> + +<p>Laurie smiled.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you need be afraid, Lady Laura. It's awfully kind of +you; but, do you know, I'm ashamed to say that, if anything, I'm +rather bored."</p> + +<p>The pince-nez gleamed.</p> + +<p>"But—but don't you believe it? I thought Mr. Vincent said—"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I believe it; but, you know, it seems to me so natural now. +Even if nothing happens tonight, I don't think I shall believe it any +the less."</p> + +<p>She was silent an instant.</p> + +<p>"You know there are other risks," she said suddenly.</p> + +<p>"What? Are things thrown about?"</p> + +<p>"Please don't laugh at it, Mr. Baxter. I am quite serious."</p> + +<p>"Well—what kind do you mean?"</p> + +<p>Again she paused.</p> + +<p>"It's very awful," she said; "but, you know, people's nerves do break +down entirely sometimes, even though they're not in the least +afraid. I saw a case once—"</p> + +<p>She stopped.</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"It—it was a very awful case. A girl—a sensitive—broke down +altogether under the strain. She's in an asylum."</p> + +<p>"I don't think that's likely for me," said Laurie, with a touch of +humor in his voice. "And, after all, you run these risks, don't +you—and Mrs. Stapleton?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but you see we're not sensitives. And even I—"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"Well, even I feel sometimes rather overcome.... Mr. Baxter, do you +quite realize what it all means?"</p> + +<p>"I think so. To tell the truth—"</p> + +<p>He stopped.</p> + +<p>"Yes; but the thing itself is really overwhelming.... There's—there's +an extraordinary power sometimes. You know I was with Maud Stapleton +when she saw her father—"</p> + +<p>She stopped again.</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"I saw him too, you know.... Oh! there was no possibility of fraud. +It was with Mr. Vincent. It—it was rather terrible."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"Maud fainted.... Please don't tell her I told you, Mr. Baxter; she +wouldn't like you to know that. And then other things happen sometimes +which aren't nice. Do you think me a great coward? I—I think I've got +a fit of nerves tonight."</p> + +<p>Laurie could see that she was trembling.</p> + +<p>"I think you're very kind," he said, "to take the trouble to tell me +all this. But indeed I was quite ready to be startled. I quite +understand what you mean—but—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baxter, you can't understand unless you've experienced it. And, +you know, the other day here you knew nothing at all: you were not +conscious. Now tonight you're to keep awake; Mr. Vincent's going to +arrange to do what he can about that. And—and I don't quite like it."</p> + +<p>"Why, what on earth can happen?" asked Laurie, bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baxter, I suppose you realize that it's you that they—whoever +they are—are interested in? There's no kind of doubt that you'll be +the center tonight. And I did just want you to understand fully that +there are risks. I shouldn't like to think—"</p> + +<p>Laurie stood up.</p> + +<p>"I understand perfectly," he said. "Certainly, I always knew there +were risks. I hold myself responsible, and no one else. Is that quite +clear?"</p> + +<p>The wire of the front-door bell suddenly twitched in the hall, and a +peal came up the stairs.</p> + +<p>"He's come," said the other. "Come upstairs, Mr. Baxter. Please don't +say a word of what I've said."</p> + +<p>She hurried out, and he after her, as the footman came up from the +lower regions.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The drawing-room presented an unusual appearance to Laurie as he came +in. All the small furniture had been moved away to the side where the +windows looked into the street, and formed there what looked like an +amateur barricade. In the center of the room, immediately below the +electric light, stood a solid small round table with four chairs set +round it as if for Bridge. There was on the side further from the +street a kind of ante-room communicating with the main room by a high, +wide archway nearly as large as the room to which it gave access; and +within this, full in sight, stood a curious erection, not unlike a +confessional, seated within for one, roofed, walled, and floored with +thin wood. The front of this was open, but screened partly by two +curtains that seemed to hang from a rod within. The rest of the little +extra room was entirely empty except for the piano that stood closed +in the corner.</p> + +<p>There were two persons standing rather disconsolately on the vacant +hearthrug—Mrs. Stapleton and the clergyman whom Laurie had met on his +last visit here. Mr. Jamieson wore an expression usually associated +with funerals, and Mrs. Stapleton's face was full of suppressed +excitement.</p> + +<p>"Dearest, what a time you've been! Was that Mr. Vincent?"</p> + +<p>"I think so," said Lady Laura.</p> + +<p>The two men nodded to one another, and an instant later the medium +came in.</p> + +<p>He was in evening clothes; and, more than ever, Laurie thought how +average and conventional he looked. His manner was not in the least +pontifical, and he shook hands cordially and naturally, but gave one +quick glance of approval at Laurie.</p> + +<p>"It struck me as extraordinarily cold," he said. "I see you have an +excellent fire." And he stooped, rubbing his hands together to warm +them.</p> + +<p>"We must screen that presently," he said.</p> + +<p>Then he stood up again.</p> + +<p>"There's no use in wasting time. May I say a word first, Lady Laura?"</p> + +<p>She nodded, looking at him almost apprehensively.</p> + +<p>"First, I must ask you gentlemen to give me your word on a certain +point. I have not an idea how things will go, or whether we shall get +any results; but we are going to attempt materialization. Probably, in +any case, this will not go very far; we may not be able to do more +than to see some figure or face. But in any case, I want you two +gentlemen to give me your word that you will attempt no violence. +Anything in the nature of seizing the figure may have very disastrous +results indeed to myself. You understand that what you will see, if +you see anything, will not be actual flesh or blood; it will be formed +of a certain matter of which we understand very little at present, but +which is at any rate intimately connected with myself or with someone +present. Really we know no more of it than that. We are all of us +inquirers equally. Now will you gentlemen give me your words of honor +that you will obey me in this; and that in all other matters you will +follow the directions of ..." (he glanced at the two ladies)—"of Mrs. +Stapleton, and do nothing without her consent?"</p> + +<p>He spoke in a brisk, matter-of-fact way, and looked keenly from face +to face of the two men as he ended.</p> + +<p>"I give you my word," said Laurie.</p> + +<p>"Yes; just so," said Mr. Jamieson.</p> + +<p>"Now there is one matter more," went on the medium. "Mr. Baxter, you +are aware that you are a sensitive of a very high order. Now I do not +wish you to pass into trance tonight. Kindly keep your attention fixed +upon me steadily. Watch me closely: you will be able to see me quite +well enough, as I shall explain presently. Mrs. Stapleton will sit +with her back to the fire. Lady Laura opposite, Mr. Jamieson with his +back to the cabinet, and you, Mr. Baxter, facing it. (Yes, +Mr. Jamieson, you may turn round freely, so long as you keep your +hands upon the table.) Now, if you feel anything resembling sleep or +unconsciousness coming upon you irresistibly, Mr. Baxter, I wish you +just lightly to tap Mrs. Stapleton's hand. She will then, if +necessary, break up the circle. Give the signal directly you feel the +sensation is really coming on, or if you find it very difficult to +keep your attention fixed. You will do this?"</p> + +<p>"I will do it," said Laurie.</p> + +<p>"Then that is really all."</p> + +<p>He moved a step away from the fire. Then he paused.</p> + +<p>"By the way, I may as well just tell you our methods. I shall take my +place within the cabinet, drawing the curtains partly across at the +top so as to shade my face. But you will be able to see the whole of +my body, and probably even my face as well. You four will please to +sit at the table in the order I have indicated, with your hands +resting upon it. You will not speak unless you are spoken to, or until +Mrs. Stapleton gives the signal. That is all. You then wait. Now it +may be ten minutes, half an hour, an hour—anything up to two hours +before anything happens. If there is no result, Mrs. Stapleton will +break up the circle at eleven o'clock, and awaken me if necessary."</p> + +<p>He broke off.</p> + +<p>"Kindly just examine the cabinet and the whole room first, gentlemen. +We mediums must protect ourselves."</p> + +<p>He smiled genially and nodded to the two.</p> + +<p>Laurie went straight across the open floor to the cabinet. It was +raised on four feet, about twelve inches from the ground. Heavy green +curtains hung from a bar within. Laurie took these, and ran them to +and fro; then he went into the cabinet. It was entirely empty except +for a single board that formed the seat. As he came out he encountered +the awestruck face of the clergyman who had followed him in dead +silence, and now went into the cabinet after him. Laurie passed round +behind: the little room was empty except for the piano at the back, +and two low bookshelves on either side of the fireless hearth. The +window looking presumably into the garden was shuttered from top to +bottom, and barred, and the curtains were drawn back so that it could +be seen. A cat could not have hidden in the place. It was all +perfectly satisfactory.</p> + +<p>He came back to where the others were standing silent, and the +clergyman followed him.</p> + +<p>"You are satisfied, gentlemen?" said the medium, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly," said Laurie, and the clergyman bowed.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said the other, "it is close upon nine."</p> + +<p>He indicated the chairs, and himself went past towards the cabinet, +his heavy step making the room vibrate as he went. As he came near the +door, he fumbled with the button, and all the lights but one went out.</p> + +<p>The four sat down. Laurie watched Mr. Vincent step up into the +cabinet, jerk the curtains this way and that, and at last sit easily +back, in such a way that his face could be seen in a kind of twilight, +and the rest of his body perfectly visible.</p> + +<p>Then silence came down upon the room.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>The cat of the next house decided to go a-walking after an excellent +supper of herring-heads. He had an appointment with a friend. So he +cleaned himself carefully on the landing outside the pantry, evaded a +couple of caresses from the young footman lately come from the +country, and finally leapt on the window-sill, and sat there regarding +the back garden, the smoky wall beyond seen in the light of the pantry +window, and the chimney-pots high and forbidding against the luminous +night sky. His tail moved with a soft ominous sinuousness as he +looked.</p> + +<p>Presently he climbed cautiously out beneath the sash, gathered himself +for a spring, and the next instant was seated on the boundary wall +between his own house and that of Lady Laura's.</p> + +<p>Here again he paused. That which served him for a mind, that +mysterious bundle of intuitions and instincts by which he reckoned +time, exchanged confidences, and arranged experiences, informed him +that the night was yet young, and that his friend would not yet be +arrived. He sat there so still and so long, that if it had not been +for his resolute head and the blunt spires of his ears, he would have +appeared to an onlooker below as no more than a humpy finial on an +otherwise regularly built wall. Now and again the last inch of his +tail twitched slightly, like an independent member, as he contemplated +his thoughts.</p> + +<p>Overhead the last glimmer of day was utterly gone, and in the place of +it the mysterious glow of night over a city hung high and luminous. +He, a town-bred cat, descended from generations of town-bred cats, +listened passively to the gentle roar of traffic that stood, to him, +for the running of brooks and the sighing of forest trees. It was to +him the auditory background of adventure, romance, and bitter war.</p> + +<p>The energy of life ran strong in his veins and sinews. Once and again +as that, which was for him imaginative vision and anticipation, +asserted itself, he crisped his strong claws into the crumbling +mortar, shooting them, by an unconscious muscular action, from the +padded sheaths in which they lay. Once a furious yapping sounded from +a lighted window far beneath; but he scorned to do more than turn a +slow head in the direction of it: then once more he resumed his watch.</p> + +<p>The time came at last, conveyed to him as surely as by a punctual +clock, and he rose noiselessly to his feet. Then again he paused, and +stretched first one strong foreleg and then the other to its furthest +reach, shooting again his claws, conscious with a faint sense of +well-being of those tightly-strung muscles rippling beneath his loose +striped skin. They would be in action presently. And, as he did so, +there looked over the parapet six feet above him, at the top of the +trellis up which presently he would ascend, another resolute little +head and blunt-spired cars, and a soft indescribable voice spoke a +gentle insult. It was his friend ... and, he knew well enough, on some +high ridge in the background squatted a young female beauty, with +flattened ears and waving tail, awaiting the caresses of the victor.</p> + +<p>As he saw the head above him, to human eyes a shapeless silhouette, to +his eyes a grey-penciled picture perfect in all its details, he paused +in his stretching. Then he sat back, arranged his tail, and lifted his +head to answer. The cry that came from him, not yet <i>fortissimo</i>, +sounded in human ears beneath no more than a soft broken-hearted wail, +but to him who sat above it surpassed in insolence even his own +carefully modulated offensiveness.</p> + +<p>Again the other answered, this time lifting himself to his full +height, sending a message along the nerves of his back that prickled +his own skin and passed out along the tail with an exquisite ripple of +movement. And once more came the answer from below.</p> + +<p>So the preliminary challenge went on. Already in the voice of each +there had begun to show itself that faint note of hysteria that +culminates presently in a scream of anger and a torrent of spits, +leading again in their turn to an ominous silence and the first fierce +clawing blows at eyes and ears. In another instant the watcher above +would recoil for a moment as the swift rush was made up the trellis, +and then the battle would be joined: but that instant never came. +There fell a sudden silence; and he, peering down into the grey gloom, +chin on paws, and tail twitching eighteen inches behind, saw an +astonishing sight. His adversary had broken off in the midst of a long +crescendo cry, and was himself crouched flat upon the narrow wall +staring now not upwards, but downwards, diagonally, at a certain +curtained window eight feet below.</p> + +<p>This was all very unusual and contrary to precedent. A dog, a human +hand armed with a missile, a furious minatory face—these things were +not present to account for the breach of etiquette. Vaguely he +perceived this, conscious only of inexplicability; but he himself also +ceased, and watched for developments.</p> + +<p>Very slowly they came at first. That crouching body beneath was +motionless now; even the tail had ceased to twitch and hung limply +behind, dripping over the edge of the narrow wall into the +unfathomable pit of the garden; and as the watcher stared, he felt +himself some communication of the horror so apparent in the other's +attitude. Along his own spine, from neck to flank, ran the paralyzing +nervous movement; his own tail ceased to move; his own ears drew back +instinctively, flattening themselves at the sides of the square strong +head. There was a movement near by, and he turned quick eyes to see +the lithe young love of his heart stepping softly into her place +beside him. When he turned again his adversary had vanished.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Yet he still watched. Still there was no sound from the window at +which the other had stared just now: no oblong of light shone out into +the darkness to explain that sudden withdrawal from the fray.</p> + +<p>All was as silent as it had been just now; on all sides windows were +closed; now and then came a human voice, just a word or two, spoken +and answered from one of those pits beneath, and the steady rumble of +traffic went on far away across the roofs; but here, in the immediate +neighborhood, all was at peace. He knew well enough the window in +question; he had leapt himself upon the sill once and again and seen +the foodless waste of floor and carpet and furniture within.</p> + +<p>Yet as he watched and waited his own horror grew. That for which in +men we have as yet no term was strong within him, as in every beast +that lives by perception rather than reason; and he too by this +strange faculty knew well enough that something was abroad, raying out +from that silent curtained unseen window—something of an utterly +different order from that of dog or flung shoe and furious +vituperation—something that affected certain nerves within his body +in a new and awful manner. Once or twice in his life he had been +conscious of it before, once in an empty room, once in a room tenanted +by a mere outline beneath a sheet and closed by a locked door.</p> + +<p>His heart too seemed melted within him; his tail too hung limply +behind the stucco parapet, and he made no answering movement to the +tiny crooning note that sounded once in his ears.</p> + +<p>And still the horror grew....</p> + +<p>Presently he withdrew one claw from the crumbling edge, raising his +head delicately; and then the other. For an instant longer he waited, +feeling his back heave uncontrollably. Then, dropping noiselessly on +to the lead, he fled beneath the sheltering parapet, a noiseless +shadow in the gloom; and his mate fled with him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IX" id="Chapter_IX" /><i>Chapter IX</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>Laurie turned slowly over in bed, drew a long breath, expelled it, +and, releasing his arms from the bed-clothes, sat up. He switched on +the light by his bed, glanced at his watch, switched off the light, +and sank down again into the sheets. He need not get up just yet.</p> + +<p>Then he remembered.</p> + +<p>When an event of an entirely new order comes into experience, it takes +a little time to be assimilated. It is as when a large piece of +furniture is brought into a room; all the rest of the furniture takes +upon itself a different value. A picture that did very well up to then +over the fire-place must perhaps be moved. Values, relations, and +balance all require readjustment.</p> + +<p>Now up to last night Laurie had indeed been convinced, in one sense, +of spiritualistic phenomena; but they had not yet for him reached the +point of significance when they affected everything else. The new +sideboard, so to speak, had been brought into the room, but it had +been put temporarily against the wall in a vacant space to be looked +at; the owner of the room had not yet realized the necessity of +rearranging the whole. But last night something had happened that +changed all this. He was now beginning to perceive the need of a +complete review of everything.</p> + +<p>As he lay there, quiet indeed, but startlingly alert, he first +reviewed the single fact.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>About an hour or so had passed away before anything particular +happened. They had sat there, those four, in complete silence, their +hands upon the table, occasionally shifting a little, hearing the +sound of one another's breathing or the faint rustle of one of the +ladies' dresses, in sufficient light from the screened fire and the +single heavily shaded electric burner to recognize faces, and even, +after the first few minutes, to distinguish small objects, or to read +large print.</p> + +<p>For the most part Laurie had kept his eyes upon the medium in the +cabinet. There the man had leaned back, plainly visible for the most +part, with even the paleness of his face and the dark blot of his +beard clearly discernible in the twilight. Now and then the boy's eyes +had wandered to the other faces, to the young clergyman's opposite +downcast and motionless, with a sort of apprehensive look and a +determination not to give way—to the three-quarter profiles of the +two women, and the gleam of the pince-nez below Lady Laura's frizzed +hair.</p> + +<p>So he had sat, the thoughts at first racing through his brain, then, +as time went on, moving more and more slowly, with his own brain +becoming ever more passive, until at last he had been compelled to +make a little effort against the drowsiness that had begun to envelop +him. He had had to do this altogether three or four times, and had +even begun to wonder whether he should be able to resist much longer, +when a sudden trembling of the table had awakened him, alert and +conscious in a moment, and he had sat with every faculty violently +attentive to what should follow.</p> + +<p>That trembling was a curious sensation beneath his hands. At first it +was no more than might be caused by the passing of a heavy van in the +street; only there was no van. But it had increased, with spasms and +recoils, till it resembled a continuous shudder as of a living rigid +body. It began also to tilt slightly this way and that.</p> + +<p>Now all this, Laurie knew well, meant nothing at all—or rather, it +need not. And when the movement passed again through all the reverse +motions, sinking at last into complete stillness, he was conscious of +disappointment. A moment later, however, as he glanced up again at the +medium in the cabinet, he drew his breath sharply, and Mr. Jamieson, +at the sound, wheeled his head swiftly to look.</p> + +<p>There, in the cabinet, somewhere overhead behind the curtain, a faint +but perfectly distinct radiance was visible. It was no more than a +diffused glimmer, but it was unmistakable, and it shone out faintly +and clearly upon the medium's face. By its light Laurie could make out +every line and every feature, the drooping clipped moustache, the +strong jutting nose, the lines from nostril to mouth, and the closed +eyes. As he watched the light deepened in intensity, seeming to +concentrate itself in the hidden corner at the top. Then, with a +smooth, steady motion it emerged into full sight, in appearance like a +softly luminous globe of a pale bluish color, undefined at the edges, +floating steadily forward with a motion like that of an air balloon, +out into the room. Once outside the cabinet it seemed to hesitate, +hanging at about the height of a man's head—then, after an instant, +it retired once more, re-entered the cabinet, disappeared in the +direction from which it had come, and once more died out.</p> + +<p>Well, there it had been; there was no doubt about it.... And Laurie +was unacquainted with any mechanism that could produce it.</p> + +<p>The clergyman too had seemed affected. He had watched, with +turned-back head, the phenomenon from beginning to end, and at the +close, with a long indrawing of breath, had looked once at Laurie, +licked his dry lips with a motion that was audible in that profound +silence, and once more dropped his eyes. The ladies had been silent, +and all but motionless throughout.</p> + +<p>Well, the rest had happened comparatively quickly.</p> + +<p>Once more, after the lapse of a few minutes, the radiance had begun to +reform; but this time it had emerged almost immediately, diffused and +misty like a nebula; had hung again before the cabinet, and then, with +a strange, gently whirling motion, had seemed to arrange itself in +lines and curves.</p> + +<p>Gradually, as he stared at it, it had begun to take the shape and +semblance of a head, swathed in drapery, with that same drapery, +hanging, as it appeared in folds, dripping downwards to the ground, +where it lost itself in vagueness. Then, as he still stared, conscious +of nothing but the amazing fact, features appeared to be +forming—first blots and lines as of shadow, finally eyes, nose, +mouth, and chin as of a young girl....</p> + +<p>A moment later there was no longer a doubt. It was the face of Amy +Nugent that was looking at him, grave and steady—as when he had seen +it in the moonlight above the sluice—and behind, seen half through +the strange drapery, and half apart from it, a couple of feet behind, +the face of the sleeping medium.</p> + +<p>At that sight he had not moved nor spoken, it was enough that the fact +was there. Every power he possessed was concentrated in the one effort +of observation....</p> + +<p>He heard from somewhere a gasping sigh, and there rose up between him +and the face the figure of the clergyman, with his head turned back +staring at the apparition, and one hand only on the table, yet with +that hand so heavy upon it that the whole table shuddered with his +shudder.</p> + +<p>There was a movement on the left, and he heard a fierce feminine +whisper—</p> + +<p>"Sit down, sir; sit down this instant...."</p> + +<p>When the clergyman had again sunk down into his seat with that same +strong shudder, the luminous face was already incoherent; the features +had relapsed again into blots and shadows, the drapery was absorbing +itself upwards into the center from which it came. Once more the +nebula trembled, moved backwards, and disappeared. The next instant +the radiance went out, as if turned off by a switch. The medium +groaned gently and awoke.</p> + +<p>Well, that had ended it. Laurie scarcely remembered the talking that +followed, the explanations, the apologies, the hardly concealed terror +of the young clergyman. The medium had come out presently, dazed and +confused. They had talked ... and so forth. Then Laurie had come home, +still trying to assimilate the amazing fact, of which he said that it +could make no difference—that he had seen with his own eyes the face +of Amy Nugent four months after her death.</p> + +<p>Now here he was in bed on the following morning, trying to assimilate +it once more.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It seemed to him as if sleep had done its work—that the subconscious +intelligence had been able to take the fact in—and that henceforth it +was an established thing in his experience. He was not excited now, +but he was intensely and overwhelmingly interested. There the thing +was. Now what difference did it make?</p> + +<p>First, he understood that it made an enormous difference to the value +of the most ordinary things. It really was true—as true as tables and +chairs—that there was a life after this, and that personality +survived. Never again could he doubt that for one instant, even in the +gloomiest mood. So long as a man walks by faith, by the acceptance of +authority, human or Divine, there is always psychologically possible +the assertion of self, the instinct that what one has not personally +experienced may just conceivably be untrue. But when one has seen—so +long as memory does not disappear—this agnostic instinct is an +impossibility. Every single act therefore has a new significance. +There is no venture about it any more; there is, indeed, very little +opportunity for heroism. Once it is certain, by the evidence of the +senses, that death is just an interlude, this life becomes merely part +of a long process....</p> + +<p>Now as to the conduct of that life—what of religion? And here, for a +moment or two, Laurie was genuinely dismayed. For, as he looked at the +Catholic religion, he perceived that the whole thing had changed. It +no longer seemed august and dominant. As he contemplated himself as he +had been at Mass on the previous morning, he seemed to have been +rather absurd. Why all this trouble, all this energy, all these +innumerable acts and efforts of faith? It was not that his religion +seemed necessarily untrue; it was certainly possible for a man to hold +simultaneously Catholic and spiritualistic beliefs; there had not been +a hint last night against Christianity, and yet, in the face of this +evidence of the senses, Catholicism seemed a very shadowy thing. It +might well be true, as any philosophy may be true, but—did it matter +very much? To be enthusiastic about it was the frenzy of an artist, +who loves the portrait more than the original—and possibly a very +misleading and inadequate portrait. Laurie had seen for himself the +original last night; he had seen a disembodied soul in a garb assumed +for the purpose of identification.... Did he need, then, a "religion?" +Was not his experience all-sufficing....?</p> + +<p>Then suddenly all speculation fled away in the presence of the +personal element.</p> + +<p>Three days ago he had contemplated the thought of Amy with comparative +indifference. She had been to him lately little more than a "test +case" of the spiritual world, clothed about with the memory of +sentiment. Now once more she sprang into vivid vital life as a person. +She was not lost; his relations with her were not just incidents of +the past; they were as much bound up with the present as courtship has +a continuity with married life. She existed—her very self—and +communication was possible between them....</p> + +<p>Laurie rolled over on to his back. The thought was violently +overwhelming; there was a furious, absorbing fascination in it. The +gulf had been bridged; it could be bridged again. Even if tales were +true, it could be bridged far more securely yet. It was possible that +the phantom he had seen could be brought yet more forward into the +world of sense, that he could touch again with his very hand a +tabernacle enclosing her soul. So far spiritualism had not failed him; +why should he suspect it of failure in the future? It had been done +before; it could, and should, be done again. Besides, there was the +pencil incident....</p> + +<p>He threw off the clothes and sprang out of bed. It was time to get up; +time to begin again this fascinating, absorbingly interesting earthly +life, which now had such enormous possibilities.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>The rooms of Mr. James Morton were conveniently situated up four +flights of stairs in one of those blocks of buildings, so mysterious +to the layman, that lie not a very long way from Charing Cross. There +is a silence always here as of college life, and the place is +frequented by the same curious selections from the human race as haunt +University courts. Here are to be seen cooks, aged and dignified men, +errand-boys, and rather shabby old women.</p> + +<p>The interior of the rooms, too, is not unlike that of an ordinary +rather second-rate college; and Mr. James Morton's taste did not +redeem the chambers in which he sat. From roof to floor the particular +apartment in which he sat was lined with bookshelves filled with +unprepossessing volumes and large black tin boxes. A large table stood +in the middle of the room, littered with papers, with bulwarks of the +same kind of tin boxes rising at either end.</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton himself was a square-built man of some forty years, +clean-shaven, and rather pale and stout, with strongly marked +features, a good loud voice, and the pleasant, brusque manners that +befit a University and public school man who has taken seriously to +business.</p> + +<p>Laurie and he got on excellently together. The younger man had an +admiration for the older, whose reputation as a rather distinguished +barrister certainly deserved it, and was sufficiently in awe of him to +pay attention to his directions in all matters connected with law. But +they did not meet much on other planes. Laurie had asked the other +down to Stantons once, and had dined with him three or four times in +return. And there their acquaintance found its limitations.</p> + +<p>This morning, however, the boy's interested air, with its hints of +suppressed excitement and his marked inattention to the books and +papers which were his business, at last caused the older man to make a +remark. It was in his best manner.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, eh?" he suddenly shot at him, without prelude of +any kind.</p> + +<p>Laurie's attention came back with a jump, and he flushed a little.</p> + +<p>"Oh!—er—nothing particular," he murmured. And he set himself down to +his books again in silence, conscious of the watchful roving eye on +the other side of the table.</p> + +<p>About half-past twelve Mr. Morton shut his own book with a slap, +leaned back, and began to fill his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Nothing seems very important," he said.</p> + +<p>As the last uttered word had been spoken an hour previously, Laurie +was bewildered, and looked it.</p> + +<p>"It won't do, Baxter," went on the other. "You haven't turned a page +an hour this morning."</p> + +<p>Laurie smiled doubtfully, and leaned back too. Then he had a spasm of +confidence.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'm rather upset this morning," he said. "The fact is, last +night..."</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton waited.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said. "Oh! don't tell if me you don't want to."</p> + +<p>Laurie looked at him.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what you'd say," he said at last.</p> + +<p>The other got up with an abrupt movement, pushed his books together, +selected a hat, and put it on.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to lunch," he said. "Got to be in the Courts at two; +and...."</p> + +<p>"Oh! wait a minute," said Laurie. "I think I want to tell you."</p> + +<p>"Well, make haste." He stood, in attitude to go.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of spiritualism?"</p> + +<p>"Blasted rot," said Mr. Morton. "Anything more I can do for you?"</p> + +<p>"Do you know anything about it?"</p> + +<p>"No. Don't want to. Is that all?"</p> + +<p>"Well, look here;" said Laurie.... "Oh! sit down for two minutes."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Then he began. He described carefully his experiences of the night +before, explaining so much as was necessary of antecedent events. The +other during the course of it tilted his hat back, and half leaned, +half sat against a side-table, watching the boy at first with a genial +contempt, and finally with the same curious interest that one gives to +a man with a new disease.</p> + +<p>"Now, what d'you make of that?" ended Laurie, flushed and superb.</p> + +<p>"D'you want to know?" came after a short silence.</p> + +<p>Laurie nodded.</p> + +<p>"What I said at the beginning, then."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Blasted rot," said Mr. Morton again.</p> + +<p>Laurie frowned sharply, and affected to put his books together.</p> + +<p>"Of course, if you take it like that," he said. "But I don't know what +respect you can possibly have for any evidence, if...."</p> + +<p>"My dear chap, that isn't evidence. No evidence in the world could +make me believe that the earth was upside down. These things don't +happen."</p> + +<p>"Then how do you explain...?"</p> + +<p>"I don't explain," said Mr. Morton. "The thing's simply not worth +looking into. If you really saw that, you're either mad or else there +was a trick.... Now come along to lunch."</p> + +<p>"But I'm not the only one," cried Laurie hotly.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed you're not.... Look here, Baxter, that sort of thing plays +the devil with nerves. Just drop it once and for all. I knew a chap +once who went in for all that. Well, the end was what everybody knew +would happen...."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said Laurie.</p> + +<p>"Went off his chump," said the other briefly. "Nasty mess all over the +floor. Now come to lunch."</p> + +<p>"Wait a second. You can't argue from particulars to universals. Was he +the only one you ever knew?"</p> + +<p>The other paused a moment.</p> + +<p>"No," he said. "As it happens, he wasn't. I knew another chap—he's a +solicitor.... Oh! by the way, he's one of your people—a Catholic, I +mean."</p> + +<p>"Well, what about him?" "Oh! he's all right," admitted Mr. Morton, +with a grudging air. "But he gave it up and took to religion instead."</p> + +<p>"Yes? What's his name?"</p> + +<p>"Cathcart."</p> + +<p>He glanced up at the clock.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord," he said, "ten to one."</p> + +<p>Then he was gone.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Laurie was far too exalted to be much depressed by this counsel's +opinion; and had, indeed, several minutes of delightful meditation on +the crass complacency of a clever man when taken off his ground. It +was deplorable, he said to himself, that men should be so content with +their limitations. But it was always the way, he reflected. To be a +specialist in one point involved the pruning of all growth on every +other. Here was Morton, almost in the front rank of his particular +subject, and, besides, very far from being a bookworm; yet, when taken +an inch out of his rut, he could do nothing but flounder. He wondered +what Morton would make of these things if he saw them himself.</p> + +<p>In the course of the afternoon Morton himself turned up again. The +case had ended unexpectedly soon. Laurie waited till the closing of +the shutters offered an opportunity for a break in the work, and once +more returned to the charge.</p> + +<p>"Morton," he said, "I wish you'd come with me one day."</p> + +<p>The other looked up.</p> + +<p>"Eh?"</p> + +<p>"To see for yourself what I told you."</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton snorted abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Lord!" he said, "I thought we'd done with that. No, thank you: +Egyptian Hall's all I need."</p> + +<p>Laurie sighed elaborately.</p> + +<p>"Oh! of course, if you won't face facts, one can't expect...."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Baxter," said the other almost kindly, "I advise you to +give this up. It plays the very devil with nerves, as I told you. Why, +you're as jumpy as a cat yourself. And it isn't worth it. If there was +anything in it, why it would be another thing; but...."</p> + +<p>"I ... I wouldn't give it up for all the world," stammered Laurie in +his zeal. "You simply don't know what you're talking about. Why ... +why, I'm not a fool ... I know that. And do you think I'm ass enough +to be taken in by a trick? And as if a trick could be played like that +in a drawing-room! I tell you I examined every inch...."</p> + +<p>"Look here," said Morton, looking curiously at the boy—for there was +something rather impressive about Laurie's manner—"look here; you'd +better see old Cathcart. Know him...? Well, I'll introduce you any +time. He'll tell you another tale. Of course, I don't believe all the +rot he talks; but, at any rate, he's sensible enough to have given it +all up. Says he wouldn't touch it with a pole. And he was rather a big +bug at it in his time, I believe."</p> + +<p>Laurie sneered audibly.</p> + +<p>"Got frightened, I suppose," he said. "Of course, I know well enough +that it's rather startling—"</p> + +<p>"My dear man, he was in the thick of it for ten years. I'll +acknowledge his stories are hair-raising, if one believed them; but +then, you see—"</p> + +<p>"What's his address?"</p> + +<p>Morton jerked his head towards the directories in the bookshelf.</p> + +<p>"Find him there," he said. "I'll give you an introduction if you want +it. Though, mind you, I think he talks as much rot as anyone—"</p> + +<p>"What does he say?"</p> + +<p>"Lord!—I don't know. Some theory or other. But, at any rate, he's +given it up."</p> + +<p>Laurie pursed his lips.</p> + +<p>"I daresay I'll ask you some time," he said. "Meanwhile—"</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile, for the Lord's sake, get on with that business you've got +there."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mr. Morton was indeed, as Laurie had reflected, extraordinarily +uninterested in things outside his beat; and his beat was not a very +extended one. He was a quite admirable barrister, competent, alert, +merciless and kindly at the proper times, and, while at his business, +thought of hardly anything else at all. And when he was not at his +business, he threw himself with equal zest into two or three other +occupations—golf, dining out, and the collection of a particular kind +of chairs. Beyond these things there was for him really nothing of +value.</p> + +<p>But, owing to circumstances, his beat had been further extended to +include Laurie Baxter, whom he was beginning to like extremely. There +was an air of romance about Laurie, a pleasant enthusiasm, excellent +manners, and a rather delightful faculty of hero-worship. Mr. Morton +himself, too, while possessing nothing even resembling a religion, +was, like many other people, not altogether unattracted towards those +who had, though he thought religiousness to be a sign of a slightly +incompetent character; and he rather liked Laurie's Catholicism, such +as it was. It must be rather pleasant, he considered (when he +considered it at all), to believe "all that," as he would have said.</p> + +<p>So this new phase of Laurie's interested him far more than he would +have allowed, so soon as he became aware that it was not merely +superficial; and, indeed, Laurie's constant return to the subject, as +well as his air of enthusiastic conviction, soon convinced him that +this was so.</p> + +<p>Further, after a week or two, he became aware that the young man's +work was suffering; and he heard from his lips the expression of +certain views that seemed to the elder man extremely unhealthy.</p> + +<p>For example, on a Friday evening, not much afterwards, as Laurie was +putting his books together, Mr. Morton asked him where he was going to +spend the week-end.</p> + +<p>"Stopping in town," said the boy briefly.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'm going to my brother's cottage. Care to come? Afraid there's +no Catholic church near."</p> + +<p>Laurie smiled.</p> + +<p>"That wouldn't deter me," he said. "I've made up my mind—"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it doesn't matter," said Laurie. "No—thanks awfully, but I've +got to stop in town."</p> + +<p>"Lady Laura's again?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Same old game?"</p> + +<p>Laurie sat down.</p> + +<p>"Look here," he said, "I know you don't mean anything; but I wish +you'd understand."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>The boy's face flushed with sudden nervous enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Do you understand," he said, "that this is just everything to me? Do +you know it's beginning to seem to me just the only thing that +matters? I'm quite aware that you think it all the most utter bunkum; +but, you see, I know it's true. And the whole thing is just like +heaven opening.... Look here ... I didn't tell you half the other +day. The fact is, that I was just as much in love with this girl +as—as a man could be. She died; and now—"</p> + +<p>"Look here, what were you up to last Sunday?"</p> + +<p>Laurie quieted a little.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't understand," he said.</p> + +<p>"Have you done any more of that business?"</p> + +<p>"What business?"</p> + +<p>"Well—thinking you saw her—All right, seeing her, if you like."</p> + +<p>The boy shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No. Vincent's away in Ireland. We've been going on other lines."</p> + +<p>"Tell me; I swear I won't laugh."</p> + +<p>"All right; I don't care if you do.... Well, automatic handwriting."</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>Laurie hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Well, I go into trance, you see, and—"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, what next?"</p> + +<p>"And then this girl writes through my hand," said Laurie deliberately, +"when I'm unconscious. See?"</p> + +<p>"I see you're a damned young fool," said Morton seriously.</p> + +<p>"But if it's all rot, as you think?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it's all rot! Do you think I believe for one instant—" He +broke off. "And so's a nervous breakdown all rot, isn't it, and D.T.? +They aren't real snakes, you know."</p> + +<p>Laurie smiled in a superior manner.</p> + +<p>"And you're getting yourself absorbed in all this—"</p> + +<p>Laurie looked at him with a sudden flash of fanaticism.</p> + +<p>"I tell you," he said, "that it's all the world to me. And so would it +be to you, if—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord! don't become Salvation Army.... Seen Cathcart yet?"</p> + +<p>"No. I haven't the least wish to see Cathcart."</p> + +<p>Morton rose, put his pens in the drawer, locked it; slid half a dozen +papers into a black tin box, locked that too, and went towards his +coat and hat, all in silence.</p> + +<p>As he went out he turned on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"When's that man coming back from Ireland?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Who? Vincent? Oh! another month yet. We're going to have another try +when he comes."</p> + +<p>"Try? What at?"</p> + +<p>"Materialization," said Laurie. "That's to say—"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to know what the foul thing means."</p> + +<p>He still paused, looking hard at the boy. Then he sniffed.</p> + +<p>"A young fool," he said. "I repeat it.... Lock up when you come.... +Good night."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_X" id="Chapter_X" /><i>Chapter X</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter possessed one of the two secrets of serenity. The other +need not be specified; but hers arose from the most pleasant and most +human form of narrow-mindedness. As has been said before, when things +did not fit with her own scheme, either they were not things, but only +fancies of somebody inconsiderable, or else she resolutely disregarded +them. She had an opportunity of testing her serenity on one day early +in February.</p> + +<p>She rose as usual at a fixed hour—eight o'clock—and when she was +ready knelt down at her <i>prie-Dieu</i>. This was quite an elaborate +structure, far more elaborate than the devotions offered there. It was +a very beautiful inlaid Florentine affair, and had a little shelf +above it filled with a number of the little leather-bound books in +which her soul delighted. She did not use these books very much; but +she liked to see them there. It would not be decent to enter the +sanctuary of Mrs. Baxter's prayers; it is enough to say that they were +not very long. Then she rose from her knees, left her large +comfortable bedroom, redolent with soap and hot water, and came +downstairs, a beautiful slender little figure in black lace veil and +rich dress, through the sunlight of the staircase, into the +dining-room.</p> + +<p>There she took up her letters and packets. They were not exciting. +There was an unimportant note from a friend, a couple of bills, and a +<i>Bon Marché</i> catalogue; and she scrutinized these through her +spectacles, sitting by the fire. When she had done she noticed a +letter lying by Maggie's place, directed in a masculine hand. An +instant later Maggie came in herself, in her hat and furs, a charming +picture, fresh from the winter sunlight and air, and kissed her.</p> + +<p>While Mrs. Baxter poured out tea she addressed a remark or two to the +girl, but only got back those vague inattentive murmurs that are the +sign of a distracted mind; and, looking up presently with a sense of +injury, noticed that Maggie was reading her letter with extraordinary +diligence.</p> + +<p>"My dear, I am speaking to you," said Mrs. Baxter, with an air of +slightly humorous dignity.</p> + +<p>"Er—I am sorry," murmured Maggie, and continued reading.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter put out her hand for the <i>Bon Marché</i> catalogue in order +to drive home her sense of injury, and met Maggie's eyes, suddenly +raised to meet her own, with a curious strained look in them.</p> + +<p>"Darling, what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>Maggie still stared at her a moment, as if questioning both herself +and the other, and finally handed the letter across with an abrupt +movement.</p> + +<p>"Read it," she said.</p> + +<p>It was rather a business to read it. It involved spectacles, a pushing +aside of a plate, and a slight turning to catch the light. Mrs. Baxter +read it, and handed it back, making three or four times the sound +written as "Tut."</p> + +<p>"The tiresome boy!" she said querulously, but without alarm.</p> + +<p>"What are we to do? You see, Mr. Morton thinks we ought to do +something. He mentions a Mr. Cathcart."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter reached out for the toast-rack.</p> + +<p>"My dear, there's nothing to be done. You know what Laurie is. It'll +only make him worse."</p> + +<p>Maggie looked at her uneasily.</p> + +<p>"I wish we could do something," she said.</p> + +<p>"My dear, he'd have written to me—Mr. Morton, I mean—if Laurie had +been really unwell. You see he only says he doesn't attend to his work +as he ought."</p> + +<p>Maggie took up the letter, put it carefully back into the envelope, +and went on with breakfast. There was nothing more to be said just +then.</p> + +<p>But she was uneasy, and after breakfast went out into the garden, spud +in hand, to think it all over, with the letter in her pocket.</p> + +<p>Certainly the letter was not alarming <i>per se</i>, but <i>per +accidens</i>—that is to say, taking into account who it was that had +written, she was not so sure. She had met Mr. Morton but once, and had +formed of him the kind of impression that a girl would form of such a +man in the hours of a week-end—a brusque, ordinary kind of barrister +without much imagination and a good deal of shrewd force. It was +surely rather an extreme step for a man like this to write to a girl +in such a condition of things, asking her to use her influence to +dissuade Laurie from his present course of life. Plainly the man meant +what he said; he had not written to Mrs. Baxter, as he explained in +the letter, for fear of alarming her unduly, and, as he expressly +said, there was nothing to be alarmed about. Yet he had written.</p> + +<p>Maggie stopped at the lower end of the orchard path, took out the +letter, and read the last three or four sentences again:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +Please forgive me if you think it was unnecessary to +write. Of course I have no doubt whatever that the whole +thing is nothing but nonsense; but even nonsense can have +a bad effect, and Mr. Baxter seems to me to be far too +much wrapped up in it. I enclose the address of a friend +of mine in case you would care to write to him on the +subject. He was once a Spiritualist, and is now a devout +Catholic. He takes a view of it that I do not take; but at +any rate his advice could do no harm. You can trust him to +be absolutely discreet.<br /><br /> + +Believe me,<br /> +Yours sincerely,<br /> +James Morton +</div> + +<p>It really was very odd and unconventional; and Mr. Morton had not +seemed at all an odd or unconventional person. He mentioned, too, a +particular date, February 25, as the date by which the medium would +have returned, and some sort of further effort was going to be made; +but he did not attempt to explain this, nor did Maggie understand it. +It only seemed to her rather sinister and unpleasant.</p> + +<p>She turned over the page, and there was the address he had +mentioned—a Mr. Cathcart. Surely he did not expect her to write to +this stranger....</p> + +<p>She walked up and down with her spud for another half-hour before she +could come to any conclusion. Certainly she agreed with Mr. James +Morton that the whole thing was nonsense; yet, further, that this +nonsense was capable of doing a good deal of harm to an excitable +person. Besides, Laurie obviously had a bad conscience about it, or he +would have mentioned it.</p> + +<p>She caught sight of Mrs. Baxter presently through the thick hedge, +walking with her dainty, dignified step along the paths of the kitchen +garden; and a certain impatience seized her at the sight. This boy's +mother was so annoyingly serene. Surely it was her business, rather +than Maggie's own, to look after Laurie; yet the girl knew perfectly +well that if Laurie was left to his mother nothing at all would be +done. Mrs. Baxter would deplore it all, of course, gently and +tranquilly, in Laurie's absence, and would, perhaps, if she were hard +pressed, utter a feeble protest even in his presence; and that was +absolutely all....</p> + +<p>"Maggie! Maggie!" came the gentle old voice, calling presently; and +then to some unseen person, "Have you seen Miss Deronnais anywhere?"</p> + +<p>Maggie put the letter in her pocket and hurried through from the +orchard.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" she said, with a half hope.</p> + +<p>"Come in, my dear, and tell me what you think of those new teacups in +the <i>Bon Marché</i> catalogue," said the old lady. "There seem some +beautiful new designs, and we want another set."</p> + +<p>Maggie bowed to the inevitable. But as they passed up the garden her +resolution was precipitated.</p> + +<p>"Can you let me go by twelve," she said. "I rather want to see Father +Mahon about something."</p> + +<p>"My dear, I shall not keep you three minutes," protested the old lady.</p> + +<p>And they went in to talk for an hour and three-quarters.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>Father Mahon was a conscientious priest. He said his mass at eight +o'clock; he breakfasted at nine; he performed certain devotions till +half-past ten; read the paper till eleven, and theology till twelve. +Then he considered himself at liberty to do what he liked till his +dinner at one. (The rest of his day does not concern us just now.)</p> + +<p>He, too, was looking round his garden this morning—a fine, solid +figure of a man, in rather baggy trousers, short coat, and expansive +waistcoat, with every button doing its duty. He too, like Mr. James +Morton, had his beat, an even narrower one than the barrister's, and +even better trodden, for he never strayed off it at all, except for +four short weeks in the summer, when he hurried across to Ireland and +got up late, and went on picnics with other ecclesiastics in straw +hats, and joined in cheerful songs in the evening. He was a priest, +with perfectly defined duties, and of admirable punctuality and +conscientiousness in doing them. He disliked the English quite +extraordinarily; but his sense of duty was such that they never +suspected it; and his flock of Saxons adored him as people only can +adore a brisk, businesslike man with a large heart and peremptory +ways, who is their guide and father, and is perfectly aware of it. His +sermons consisted of cold-cut blocks of dogma taken perseveringly from +sermon outlines and served up Sunday by Sunday with a sauce of a +slight and delightful brogue. He could never have kindled the Thames, +nor indeed any river at all, but he could bridge them with solid +stones; and this is, perhaps, even more desirable.</p> + +<p>Maggie had begun by disliking him. She had thought him rather coarse +and stupid; but she had changed her mind. He was not what may be +called subtle; he had no patience at all with such things as scruples, +<i>nuances</i>, and shades of tone and meaning; but if you put a plain +question to him plainly, he gave you a plain answer, if he knew it; if +not, he looked it up then and there; and that is always a relief in +this intricate world. Maggie therefore did not bother him much; she +went to him only on plain issues; and he respected and liked her +accordingly.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, my child," he said in his loud, breezy voice, as he +came in to find her in his hideous little sitting-room. "I hope you +don't mind the smell of tobacco-smoke."</p> + +<p>The room indeed reeked; he had started a cigar, according to rule, as +the clock struck twelve, and had left it just now upon a stump outside +when his housekeeper had come to announce a visitor.</p> + +<p>"Not in the least, thanks, father.... May I sit down? It's rather a +long business, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>The priest pulled out an arm-chair covered with horsehair and an +antimacassar.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, my child."</p> + +<p>Then he sat down himself, opposite her, in his trousers at once tight +and baggy, with his rather large boots cocked one over the other, and +his genial red face smiling at her.</p> + +<p>"Now then," he said.</p> + +<p>"It's not about myself, father," she began rather hurriedly. "It's +about Laurie Baxter. May I begin at the beginning?"</p> + +<p>He nodded. He was not sorry to hear something about this boy, whom he +didn't like at all, but for whom he knew himself at least partly +responsible. The English were bad enough, but English converts were +indescribably trying; and Laurie had been on his mind lately, he +scarcely knew why.</p> + +<p>Then Maggie began at the beginning, and told the whole thing, from +Amy's death down to Mr. Morton's letter. He put a question or two to +her during her story, looking at her with pressed lips, and finally +put out his hand for the letter itself.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Baxter doesn't know what I've come about," said the girl. "You +won't give her a hint, will you, father?"</p> + +<p>He nodded reassuringly to her, absorbed in the letter, and presently +handed it back, with a large smile.</p> + +<p>"He seems a sensible fellow," he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's what I wanted to ask you, father. I don't know anything at +all about spiritualism. Is it—is it really all nonsense? Is there +nothing in it at all?"</p> + +<p>He laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you need be afraid," he said. "Of course we know that +souls don't come back like that. They're somewhere else."</p> + +<p>"Then it's all fraud?"</p> + +<p>"It's practically all fraud," he said, "but it's very superstitious, +and is forbidden by the Church."</p> + +<p>This was straight enough. It was at least a clear issue to begin to +attack Laurie upon.</p> + +<p>"Then—then that's the evil of it?" she said. "There's no real power +underneath? That's what Mr. Rymer said to Mrs. Baxter; and it's what +I've always thought myself."</p> + +<p>The priest's face became theological.</p> + +<p>"Let's see what Sabetti says," he said. "I fancy—"</p> + +<p>He turned in his chair and fetched out a volume behind him.</p> + +<p>"Here we are...."</p> + +<p>He ran his finger down the heavy paragraphs, turned a page or two, and +began a running comment and translation: "'<i>Necromantia ex</i>'.... +'Necromancy arising from invocation of the dead'.... Let's see ... +yes, 'Spiritism, or the consulting of spirits in order to know hidden +things, especially that pertain to the future life, certainly is +divination properly so called, and is ... is full of even more impiety +than is magnetism, or the use of turning tables. The reason is, as the +Baltimore fathers testify, that such knowledge must necessarily be +ascribed to Satanic intervention, since in no other manner can it be +explained.'"</p> + +<p>"Then—" began Maggie.</p> + +<p>"One moment, my child.... Yes ... just so. 'Express divination'.... +No, no. Ah! here we are, 'Tacit divination, ... even if it is openly +protested that no commerce with the Demon is intended, is <i>per se</i> +grave sin; but it can sometimes be excused from mortal sin, on account +of simplicity or ignorance or a lack of certain faith.' You see, my +child—" he set the book back in its place "—so far as it's not fraud +it's diabolical. And that's an end of it."</p> + +<p>"But do you think it's not all fraud, then?" asked the girl, paling a +little.</p> + +<p>He laughed again, with a resonance that warmed her heart.</p> + +<p>"I should pay just no attention to it all. Tell him, if you like, what +I've said, and that it's grave sin for him to play with it; but don't +get thinking that the devil's in everything."</p> + +<p>Maggie was puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Then it's not the devil?" she asked—"at least not in this case, you +think?"</p> + +<p>He smiled again reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"I should suspect it was a clever trick," he said. "I don't think +Master Laurie's likely to get mixed up with the devil in that way. +There's plenty of easier ways than that."</p> + +<p>"Do you think I should write to Mr. Cathcart?"</p> + +<p>"Just as you like. He's a convert, isn't he? I believe I've heard his +name."</p> + +<p>"I think so."</p> + +<p>"Well, it wouldn't do any harm; though I should suspect not much +good."</p> + +<p>Maggie was silent.</p> + +<p>"Just tell Master Laurie not to play tricks," said the priest. "He's +got a good, sensible friend in Mr. Morton. I can see that. And don't +trouble your head too much about it, my child."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When Maggie was gone, he went out to finish his cigar, and found to +his pleasure that it was still alight, and after a puff or two it went +very well.</p> + +<p>He thought about his interview for a few minutes as he walked up and +down, taking the bright winter air. It explained a good deal. He had +begun to be a little anxious about this boy. It was not that Laurie +had actually neglected his religion while at Stantons; he was always +in his place at mass on Sundays, and even, very occasionally, on +weekdays as well. And he had had a mass said for Amy Nugent. But even +as far back as the beginning of the previous year, there had been an +air about him not altogether reassuring.</p> + +<p>Well, this at any rate was a small commentary on the present +situation.... (The priest stopped to look at some bulbs that were +coming up in the bed beside him, and stooped, breathing heavily, to +smooth the earth round one of them with a large finger.)... And as for +this Spiritualistic nonsense—of course the whole thing was a trick. +Things did not happen like that. Of course the devil could do +extraordinary things: or at any rate had been able to do them in the +past; but as for Master Laurie Baxter—whose home was down there in +the hamlet, and who had been at Oxford and was now reading law—as for +the thought that this rather superior Saxon young man was in direct +communication with Satan at the present time—well, that needed no +comment but loud laughter.</p> + +<p>Yet it was very unwholesome and unhealthy. That was the worst of these +converts; they could not be content with the sober workaday facts of +the Catholic creed. They must be always running after some novelty or +other.... And it was mortal sin anyhow, if the sinner had the faintest +idea—</p> + +<p>A large dinner-bell pealed from the back door; and the priest went in +to roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, apple dumplings, and a single +glass of port-wine to end up with.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>It was strange how Maggie felt steadied and encouraged in the presence +of something at least resembling danger. So long as Laurie was merely +tiresome and foolish, she distrusted herself, she made little rules +and resolutions, and deliberately kept herself interiorly detached +from him. But now that there was something definite to look to, her +sensitiveness vanished.</p> + +<p>As to what that something was, she did not trust herself to decide. +Father Mahon had given her a point to work at—the fact that the +thing, as a serious pursuit, was forbidden; as to what the reality +behind was, whether indeed there were any reality at all, she did not +allow herself to consider. Laurie was in a state of nerves +sufficiently troublesome to bring a letter from his friend and guide; +and he was in that state through playing tricks on forbidden ground; +that was enough.</p> + +<p>Her interview with Father Mahon precipitated her half-formed +resolution; and after tea she went upstairs to write to Mr. Cathcart.</p> + +<p>It was an unconventional thing to do, but she was sufficiently +perturbed to disregard that drawback, and she wrote a very sensible +letter, explaining first who she was; then, without any names being +mentioned, she described her adopted brother's position, and indicated +his experiences: she occupied the last page in asking two or three +questions, and begging for general advice.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter displayed some symptoms after dinner which the girl +recognized well enough. They comprised a resolute avoidance of +Laurie's name, a funny stiff little air of dignity, and a touch of +patronage. And the interpretation of these things was that the old +lady did not wish the subject to be mentioned again, and that, +interiorly, she was doing her best ignore and forget it. Maggie felt, +again, vaguely comforted; it left her a freer hand.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>She lay awake a long time that night.</p> + +<p>Her room was a little square one on the top of the stairs, above the +smoking-room where she had that odd scene with Laurie a month or so +before, and looking out upon the yew walk that led to the orchard. It +was a cheerful little place enough, papered in brown, hung all over +with water colors, with her bed in one corner; and it looked a +reassuring familiar kind of place in the firelight, as she lay +open-eyed and thinking.</p> + +<p>It was not that she was at all frightened; it was no more than a +little natural anxiety; and half a dozen times in the hour or two that +she lay thinking, she turned resolutely over in bed, dismissed the +little pictures that her mind formed in spite of herself, and began to +think of pleasant, sane subjects.</p> + +<p>But the images recurred. They were no more than little +vignettes—Laurie talking to a severe-looking tall man with a sardonic +smile; Laurie having tea with Mrs. Stapleton; Laurie in an empty room, +looking at a closed door....</p> + +<p>It was this last picture that recurred three or four times at the very +instant that the girl was drowsing off into sleep; and it had +therefore that particular vividness that characterizes the thoughts +when the conscious attention is dormant. It had too a strangely +perturbing effect upon her; and she could not imagine why.</p> + +<p>After the third return of it her sense of humor came to the rescue: it +was too ridiculous, she said, to be alarmed at an empty room and +Laurie's back. Once more she turned on her side, away from the +firelight, and resolved, if it recurred again, to examine the details +closely.</p> + +<p>Again the moments passed: thought followed thought, in those quiet +waves that lull the mind towards sleep; finally once more the picture +was there, clear and distinct.</p> + +<p>Yes; she would look at it this time.</p> + +<p>It was a bare room, wainscoted round the walls a few inches up, +papered beyond in some common palish pattern. Laurie stood in the +center of the uncarpeted boards, with his back turned to her, looking, +it seemed, with an intense expectation at the very dull door in the +wall opposite him. He was in his evening dress, she saw, knee-breeches +and buckles all complete; and his hands were clenched, as they hung +held out a little from his sides, as he himself, crouching a little, +stared at the door.</p> + +<p>She, too, looked at the door, at its conventional panels and its brass +handle; and it appeared to her as if both he and she were expectant of +some visitor. The door would open presently, she perceived; and the +reason why Laurie was so intent upon the entrance, was that he, no +more than she, had any idea as to the character of the person who was +to come in. She became quite interested as she watched—it was a +method she followed sometimes when wooing sleep—and she began, in her +fancy, to go past Laurie as if to open the door. But as she passed him +she was aware that he put out a hand to check her, as if to hold her +back from some danger; and she stopped, hesitating, still looking, not +at Laurie, but at the door.</p> + +<p>She began then, with the irresponsibility of deepening sleep, to +imagine instead what lay beyond the door—to perceive by intuitive +vision the character of the house. She got so far as understanding +that it was all as unfurnished as this room, that the house stood +solitary among trees, and that even these, and the tangled garden that +she determined must surround the house, were as listening and as +expectant as herself and the waiting figure of the boy. Once more, as +if to verify her semi-passive imaginative excursion, she moved to the +door....</p> + +<p>Ah! what nonsense it was. Here she was, wide awake again, in her own +familiar room, with the firelight on the walls.</p> + +<p>... Well, well; sleep was a curious thing; and so was imagination....</p> + +<p>... At any rate she had written to Mr. Cathcart.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XI" id="Chapter_XI" /><i>Chapter XI</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>The "Cock Inn" is situated in Fleet Street, not twenty yards from +Mitre Court and scarcely fifty from the passage that leads down to the +court where Mr. James Morton still has his chambers.</p> + +<p>It was a convenient place, therefore, for Laurie to lunch in, and he +generally made his appearance there a few minutes before one o'clock +to partake of a small rump steak and a pewter mug of beer. Sometimes +he came alone, sometimes in company; and by a carefully thought out +system of tips he usually managed to have reserved for him at least +until one o'clock a particular seat in a particular partition in that +row of stable-like shelters that run the length of the room opposite +the door on the first floor.</p> + +<p>On the twenty-third of February, however—it was a Friday, by the way, +and boiled plaice would have to be eaten instead of rump steak—he was +a little annoyed to find his seat already occupied by a small, +brisk-looking man with a grey beard and spectacles, who, with a +newspaper propped in front of him, was also engaged in the consumption +of boiled plaice.</p> + +<p>The little man looked up at him sharply, like a bird disturbed in a +meal, and then down again upon the paper. Laurie noticed that his hat +and stick were laid upon the adjoining chair as if to retain it. He +hesitated an instant; then he slid in on the other side, opposite the +stranger, tapped his glass with his knife, and sat down.</p> + +<p>When the waiter came, a familiarly deferential man with whiskers, +Laurie, with a slight look of peevishness, gave his order, and glanced +reproachfully at the occupied seat. The waiter gave the ghost of a +shrug with his shoulders, significant of apologetic helplessness, and +went away.</p> + +<p>A minute later Mr. Morton entered, glanced this way and that, nodding +imperceptibly to Laurie, and was just moving off to a less occupied +table when the stranger looked up.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Morton," he cried, "Mr. Morton!" in an odd voice that seemed on +the point of cracking into falsetto. Certainly he was very like a +portly bird, thought Laurie.</p> + +<p>The other turned round, nodded with short geniality, and slid into the +chair from which the old man moved his hat and stick with zealous +haste.</p> + +<p>"And what are you doing here?" said Mr. Morton.</p> + +<p>"Just taking a bite like yourself," said the other. "Friday—worse +luck."</p> + +<p>Laurie was conscious of a touch of interest. This man was a Catholic, +then, he supposed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, by the way," said Mr. Morton, "have you—er—" and he indicated +Laurie. "No...? Baxter, let me introduce Mr. Cathcart."</p> + +<p>For a moment the name meant nothing to Laurie; then he remembered; but +his rising suspicions were quelled instantly by his friend's next +remark.</p> + +<p>"By the way, Cathcart, we were talking of you a week or two ago."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! I am flattered," said the old man perkily. Yes, "perky" was +the word, thought Laurie.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Baxter here is interested in Spiritualism—rump steak, waiter, +and pint of bitter—and I told him you were the man for him."</p> + +<p>Laurie interiorly drew in his horns.</p> + +<p>"A—er—an experimenter?" asked the old man, with courteous interest, +his eyes giving a quick gleam beneath his glasses.</p> + +<p>"A little."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Most dangerous—most dangerous.... And any success, Mr. +Baxter?"</p> + +<p>Laurie felt his annoyance deepen.</p> + +<p>"Very considerable success," he said shortly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes—you must forgive me, sir; but I have had a good deal of +experience, and I must say—You are a Catholic, I see," he said, +interrupting himself. "Or a High Churchman."</p> + +<p>"I am a Catholic," said Laurie.</p> + +<p>"So'm I. But I gave up spiritualism as soon as I became one. Very +interesting experiences, too; but—well, I value my soul too much, Mr. +Baxter."</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton put a large piece of potato into his mouth with a detached +air.</p> + +<p>It was really rather trying, thought Laurie, to be catechized in this +way; so he determined to show superiority.</p> + +<p>"And you think it all superstition and nonsense?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, no," said the old man shortly.</p> + +<p>Laurie pushed his plate on one side, and drew the cheese towards him. +This was a little more interesting, he thought, but he was still far +from feeling communicative.</p> + +<p>"What then?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very real indeed," said the old man. "That is just the danger."</p> + +<p>"The danger?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Baxter. Of course there's plenty of fraud and trickery; we +all know that. But it's the part that's not fraud that's—May I ask +what medium you go to?"</p> + +<p>"I know Mr. Vincent. And I've been to some public <i>séances</i>, too."</p> + +<p>The old man looked at him with sudden interest, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>"You think he's not honest?" said Laurie, with cool offensiveness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; he's perfectly honest," said the other deliberately. "I'll +trouble you for the sugar, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>Laurie was determined not to begin the subject again. He felt that he +was being patronized and lectured, and did not like it. And once again +the suspicion crossed his mind that this was an arranged meeting. It +was so very neat—two days before the <i>séance</i>—the entry of +Morton—his own seat occupied. Yet he did not feel quite courageous +enough to challenge either of them. He ate his cheese deliberately and +waited, listening to the talk between the two on quite irrelevant +subjects, and presently determined on a bit of bravado.</p> + +<p>"May I look at the <i>Daily Mirror</i>, Mr. Cathcart?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"There is no doubt of his guilt," the old man said, as he handed the +paper across (the two were deep in a law case now). "I said so to +Markham a dozen times—" and so on.</p> + +<p>But there was no more word of spiritualism. Laurie propped the paper +before him as he finished his cheese, and waited for coffee, and read +with unseeing eyes. He was resenting as hard as he could the +abruptness of the opening and closing of the subject, and the complete +disregard now shown to him. He drank his coffee, still leisurely, and +lit a cigarette; and still the two talked.</p> + +<p>He stood up at last and reached down his hat and stick. The old man +looked up.</p> + +<p>"You are going, Mr. Baxter...? Good day.... Well then; and as I was +waiting in court—"</p> + +<p>Laurie passed out indignantly, and went down the stairs.</p> + +<p>So that was Mr. Cathcart. Well, he was thankful he hadn't written to +him, after all. He was not his kind in the least.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>The moment he passed out of the door the old man stopped his fluent +talking and waited, looking after the boy. Then he turned again to his +friend.</p> + +<p>"I'm a blundering idiot," he said.</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton sniffed.</p> + +<p>"I've put him against me now—Lord knows how; but I've done it; and he +won't listen to me."</p> + +<p>"Gad!" said Mr. Morton; "what funny people you all are! And you really +meant what you said?"</p> + +<p>"Every word," said the old man cheerfully.... "Well; our little plot's +over."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you ask him to come and see you?"</p> + +<p>"First," said the old man, with the same unruffled cheerfulness, "he +wouldn't have come. We've muddled it. We'd much better have been +straightforward. Secondly, he thinks me an old fool—as you do, only +more so. No; we must set to work some other way now.... Tell me about +Miss Deronnais: I showed you her letter?"</p> + +<p>The other nodded, helping himself to cheese.</p> + +<p>"I told her that I was at her service, of course; and I haven't heard +again. Sensible girl?"</p> + +<p>"Very sensible, I should say."</p> + +<p>"Sort of girl that wouldn't scream or faint in a crisis?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly the opposite, I should say. But I've hardly seen her, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Well, well.... And the mother?"</p> + +<p>"No good at all," said Mr. Morton.</p> + +<p>"Then the girl's the sheet anchor.... In love with him, do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Lord! How d'you expect me to know that?"</p> + +<p>The old man pondered in silence, seeming to assimilate the situation.</p> + +<p>"He's in a devil of a mess," he said, with abrupt cheerfulness. "That +man Vincent—"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"He's the most dangerous of the lot. Just because he's honest."</p> + +<p>"Good God!" broke in the other again suddenly. "Do all Catholics +believe this rubbish?"</p> + +<p>"My dear friend, of course they don't. Not one in a thousand. I wish +they did. That's what's the matter. But they laugh at it—laugh at +it!"... His voice cracked into shrill falsetto.... "Laugh at +hell-fire.... Is Sunday the day, did you say?"</p> + +<p>"He told me the twenty-fifth."</p> + +<p>"And at that woman's in Queen's Gate, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Expect so. He didn't say. Or I forget."</p> + +<p>"I heard they were at their games there again," said Mr. Cathcart with +meditative geniality. "I'd like to blow up the stinking hole."</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton chuckled audibly.</p> + +<p>"You're the youngest man of your years I've ever come across," he +said. "No wonder you believe all that stuff. When are you going to +grow up, Cathcart?"</p> + +<p>The old man paid no attention at all.</p> + +<p>"Well—that plot's over," he said again. "Now for Miss Deronnais. But +we can't stop this Sunday affair; that's certain. Did he tell you +anything about it? Materialization? Automatic—"</p> + +<p>"Lord, I don't know all that jargon...."</p> + +<p>"My dear Morton, for a lawyer, you're the worst witness I've +ever—Well, I'm off. No more to be done today."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The other sat on a few minutes over his pipe.</p> + +<p>It seemed to him quite amazing that a sensible man like Cathcart could +take such rubbish seriously. In every other department of life the +solicitor was an eminently shrewd and sane man, with, moreover, a +youthful kind of brisk humor that is perhaps the surest symptom of +sanity that it is possible to have.</p> + +<p>He had seen him in court for years past under every sort of +circumstance, and if it had been required of him to select a character +with which superstition and morbid humbug could have had nothing in +common, he would have laid his hand upon the senior partner of +Cathcart and Cathcart. Yet here was this sane man, taking this +fantastic nonsense as if there were really something in it. He had +first heard him speak of the subject at a small bachelor dinner party +of four in the rooms of a mutual friend; and, as he had listened, he +had had the same sensation as one would have upon hearing a Cabinet +Minister, let us say, discussing stump-cricket with enthusiasm. +Cathcart had said all kinds of things when once he was started—all +with that air of businesslike briskness that was so characteristic of +him and so disconcerting in such a connection. If he had apologized +for it as an amiable weakness, if he had been in the least shamefaced +or deprecatory, it would have been another matter; one would have +forgiven it as one forgives any little exceptional eccentricity. But +to hear him speak of materialization as of a process as normal (though +unusual) as the production of radium, and of planchette as of wireless +telegraphy—as established, indubitable facts, though out of the range +of common experience—this had amazed this very practical man. +Cathcart had hinted too of other things—things which he would not +amplify—of a still more disconcertingly impossible nature—matters +which Morton had scarcely thought had been credible even to the +darkest medievalists; and all this with that same sharp, sane humor +that lent an air of reality to all that he said.</p> + +<p>For romantic young asses like Laurie Baxter such things were not so +hopelessly incongruous, though obviously they were bad for him; they +were all part of the wild credulousness of a religious youth; but for +Cathcart, aged sixty-two, a solicitor in good practice, with a wife +and two grown-up daughters, and a reputation for exceptionally sound +shrewdness—! But it must be remembered he was a Catholic!</p> + +<p>So Mr. James Morton sat in the "Cock" and pondered. He was not sorry +he had tried to take steps to choke off this young fool, and he was +just a little sorry that so far they had failed. He had written to +Miss Deronnais in an impulse, after an unusually feverish outburst +from the boy; and she, he had learnt later, had written to Mr. +Cathcart. The rest had been of the other's devising.</p> + +<p>Well, it had failed so far. Perhaps next week things would be better.</p> + +<p>He paid his bill, left two pence for the waiter, and went out. He had +a case that afternoon.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>Laurie left chambers as it was growing dark that afternoon, and went +back to his rooms for tea. He had passed, as was usual now, an +extremely distracted couple of hours, sitting over his books with +spasmodic efforts only to attend to them. He was beginning, in fact, +to be not quite sure whether Law after all was his vocation....</p> + +<p>His kettle was singing pleasantly on the hob, and a tray glimmered in +the firelight on the little table, as the woman had left it; and it +was not until he had poured himself out a cup of tea that he saw on +the white cloth an envelope, directed to him, inscribed "By hand," in +the usual handwriting of persons engaged in business. Even then he did +not open it at once; it was probably only some note connected with his +chief's affairs.</p> + +<p>For half an hour more he sat on, smoking after tea, pondering that +which was always in his mind now, and dwelling with a vague pleasant +expectancy on what Sunday night should bring forth. Mr. Vincent, he +knew, was returning to town that afternoon. Perhaps, even, he might +look in for a few minutes, if there were any last instructions to be +given.</p> + +<p>The effect of the medium on the young man's mind had increased +enormously during these past weeks. That air of virile masterfulness, +all the more impressive because of its extreme quiet assurance, had +proved even more deep than had at first appeared.</p> + +<p>It is very hard to analyze the elements of a boy's adoration for a +solid middle-aged gentleman with a "personality"; yet the thing is an +enormously potent fact, and plays at least as big a part in the +sub-currents that run about the world as any more normal human +emotions. Psychologists of the materialistic school would probably say +that it was a survival of the tribe-and-war instinct. At any rate, +there it is.</p> + +<p>Added to all this was the peculiar relation in which the medium stood +to the boy; it was he who had first opened the door towards that +strange other world that so persistently haunts the imaginations of +certain temperaments; it was through him that Laurie had had brought +before the evidence of his senses, as he thought, the actuality of the +things of which he had dreamed—an actuality which his religion had +somehow succeeded in evading. It was not that Laurie had been +insincere in his religion; there had been moments, and there still +were, occasionally, when the world that the Catholic religion preached +by word and symbol and sacrament, became apparent; but the whole thing +was upon a different plane. Religion bade him approach in one way, +spiritualism in the other. The senses had nothing to do with one; they +were the only ultimate channels of the other. And it is +extraordinarily easy for human beings to regard as more fundamentally +real the evidence of the senses than the evidence of faith....</p> + +<p>Here then were the two choices—a world of spirit, to be taken largely +on trust, to be discerned only in shadow and outline upon rare and +unusual occasions of exaltation, of a particular quality which had +almost lost its appeal; and a world of spirit that took shape and form +and practical intelligibility, in ordinary rooms and under very nearly +ordinary circumstances—a world, in short, not of a transcendent God +and the spirits of just men made perfect, of vast dogmas and theories, +but of a familiar atmosphere, impregnated with experience, inhabited +by known souls who in this method or that made themselves apparent to +those senses which, Laurie believed, could not lie.... And the point +of contact was Amy Nugent herself....</p> + +<p>As regards his exact attitude to this girl it is more difficult to +write. On the one side the human element—those associations directly +connected with the senses—her actual face and hands, physical +atmosphere and surroundings—those had disappeared; they were +dispersed, or they lay underground; and it had been with a certain +shock of surprise, in spite of the explanations given to him, that he +had seen what he believed to be her face in the drawing-room in +Queen's Gate. But he had tried to arrange all this in his +imagination, and it had fallen into shape and proportion again. In +short, he thought he understood now that it is character which gives +unity to the transient qualities of a person on earth, and that, when +those qualities disappear, it is as unimportant as the wasting of +tissue: when, according to the spiritualists' gospel that character +manifests itself from the other side, it naturally reconstitutes the +form by which it had been recognized on earth.</p> + +<p>Yet, in spite of this sense of familiarity with what he had seen, +there had fallen between Amy and himself that august shadow that is +called Death.... And in spite of the assurances he had received, even +at the hands of his own senses, that this was indeed the same girl +that he had known on earth, there was a strange awe mingled with his +old rather shallow passion. There were moments, as he sat alone in his +rooms at night, when it rose almost to terror; just as there were +other moments when awe vanished for a while, and his whole being was +flooded with an extraordinary ecstatic semi-earthly happiness at the +thought that he and she could yet speak with one another.... Imagine, +if you please, a child who on returning home finds that his mother has +become Queen, and meets her in the glory of ermine and diadem....</p> + +<p>But the real deciding point—which, somehow, he knew must come—the +moment at which these conflicting notes should become a chord, was +fixed for Sunday evening next. Up to now he had had evidence of her +presence, he had received intelligible messages, though fragmentary +and half stammered through the mysterious veil, he had for an instant +or two looked upon her face; but the real point, he hoped, would come +in two days. The public <i>séances</i> had not impressed him. He had been +to three or four of these in a certain road off Baker Street, and had +been astonished and disappointed. The kind of people that he had met +there—sentimental bourgeois with less power of sifting evidence than +the average child, with a credulity that was almost supernatural—the +medium, a stout woman who rolled her eyes and had damp fat fingers; +the hymn-singing, the wheezy harmonium, the amazing pseudo-mystical +oracular messages that revealed nothing which a religiose fool could +not invent—in fact the whole affair, from the sham stained-glass +lamp-shade to the ghostly tambourines overhead, the puerility of the +tricks played on the inquirers, and all the rest of it—this seemed as +little connected with what he had experienced with Mr. Vincent as a +dervish dance with High Mass. He had reflected with almost ludicrous +horror upon the impression it would make on Maggie, and the remarks it +would elicit.</p> + +<p>But this other engagement was a very different matter.</p> + +<p>They were going to attempt a further advance. It had, indeed, been +explained to him that these attempts were but tentative and +experimental; it was impossible to dictate exactly what should fall; +but the object on Sunday night was to go a step further, and to bring +about, if possible, the materialization process to such a point that +the figure could be handled, and could speak. And it seemed to Laurie +as if this would be final indeed....</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>So he sat this evening, within forty-eight hours of the crisis, +thinking steadily. Half a dozen times, perhaps, the thought of Maggie +recurred to him; but he was learning how to get rid of that.</p> + +<p>Then he took up the note and opened it. It was filled with four pages +of writing. He turned to the end and read the signature. Then he +turned back and read the whole letter.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was very quiet as he sat there thinking over what he had read. The +noise of Fleet Street came up here only as the soothing murmur of the +sea upon a beach; and he himself sat motionless, the firelight falling +upwards upon his young face, his eyes, and his curly hair. About him +stood his familiar furniture, the grand piano a pool of glimmering +dark wood in the background, the tall curtained windows suggestive of +shelter and warmth and protection.</p> + +<p>Yet, if he had but known it, he was making an enormous choice. The +letter was from the man he had met at midday, and he was deciding how +to answer it. He was soothed and quieted by his loneliness, and his +irritation had disappeared: he regarded the letter from a youthfully +philosophical standpoint, pleased with his moderation, as the work of +a fanatic; he was considering only whether he would yield, for +politeness' sake, to the importunity, or answer shortly and +decisively. It seemed to him remarkable that a mature and experienced +man could write such a letter.</p> + +<p>At last he got up, went to his writing-table, and sat down. Still he +hesitated for a minute; then he dipped his pen and wrote.</p> + +<p>When he had finished and directed it, he went back to the fire. He had +an hour yet in which to think and think before he need dress. He had +promised to dine with Mrs. Stapleton at half-past seven. He had a +touch of headache, and perhaps might sleep it off.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XII" id="Chapter_XII" /><i>Chapter XII</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>Lady Laura crossed the road by Knightsbridge Barracks and turned again +homewards through the Park.</p> + +<p>It was one of those days that occasionally fall in late February which +almost cheer the beholder into a belief that spring has really begun. +Overhead the sky was a clear pale blue, flecked with summer-looking +clouds, gauzy and white; beneath, the whole earth was waking drowsily +from a frost so slight as only to emphasize the essential softness of +the day that followed: the crocuses were alight in the grass, and an +indescribable tint lay over all that had life, like the flush in the +face of an awakening child. But these days are too good to last, and +Lady Laura, who had looked at the forecast of a Sunday paper, had +determined to take her exercise immediately after church.</p> + +<p>She had come out not long before from All Saints'; she had listened to +an excellent though unexciting sermon and some extremely beautiful +singing; and even now, saturated with that atmosphere and with the +soothing physical air in which she walked, her anxieties seemed less +acute. There were enough of her acquaintances, too, in groups here and +there—she had to bow and smile sufficiently often—to prevent these +anxieties from reasserting themselves too forcibly. And it may be +supposed that not a creature who observed her, in her exceedingly +graceful hat and mantle, with her fair head a little on one side, and +her gold-rimmed pince-nez delicately gleaming in the sunlight, had the +very faintest suspicion that she had any anxieties at all.</p> + +<p>Yet she felt strangely unwilling even to go home.</p> + +<p>The men were to set about clearing the drawing-room while she was at +church; and somehow the thought that it would be done when she got +home, that the temple would, so to speak, be cleared for sacrifice, +was a distasteful one.</p> + +<p>She did not quite know when the change had begun; in fact, she was +scarcely yet aware that there was a change at all. Upon one point only +her attention fixed itself, and that was the increasing desire she +felt that Laurie Baxter should go no further in his researches under +her auspices.</p> + +<p>Up to within a few weeks ago she had been all ardor. It had seemed to +her, as has been said, that the apparent results of spiritualism were +all to the good, that they were in no point contrary to the religion +she happened to believe—in fact, that they made real, as does an +actual tree in the foreground of a panorama, the rather misty sky and +hills of Christianity. She had even called them very "teaching."</p> + +<p>It was about eighteen months since she had first taken this up under +the onslaught of Mrs. Stapleton's enthusiasm; but things had not been +as satisfactory as she wished, until Mr. Vincent had appeared. Then +indeed matters had moved forward; she had seen extraordinary things, +and the effect of them had been doubled by the medium's obvious +honesty and his strong personality. He was to her as a resolute priest +to a timid penitent; he had led her forward, supported by his own +conviction and his extremely steady will, until she had begun to feel +at home in this amazing new world, and eager to make proselytes.</p> + +<p>Then Laurie had appeared, and almost immediately a dread had seized +her that she could neither explain nor understand. She had attempted a +little tentative conversation on the point with dearest Maud, but +dearest Maud had appeared so entirely incapable of understanding her +scruples that she had said no more. But her inexplicable anxiety had +already reached such a point that she had determined to say a word to +Laurie on the subject. This had been done, without avail; and now a +new step forward was to be made.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As to of what this step consisted she was perfectly aware.</p> + +<p>The "controls," she believed—the spirits that desired to +communicate—had a series of graduated steps by which the +communications could be made, from mere incoherent noises (as a man +may rap a message from one room to another), through appearances, also +incoherent and intangible, right up to the final point of assuming +visible tangible form, and of speaking in an audible voice. This +process, she believed, consisted first in a mere connection between +spirit and matter, and finally passed into an actual assumption of +matter, molded into the form of the body once worn by the spirit on +earth. For nearly all of this process she had had the evidence of her +own senses; she had received messages, inexplicable to her except on +the hypothesis put forward, from departed relations of her own; she +had seen lights, and faces, and even figures formed before her eyes, +in her own drawing-room; but she had not as yet, though dearest Maud +had been more fortunate, been able to handle and grasp such figures, +to satisfy the sense of touch, as well as of sight, in proof of the +reality of the phenomenon.</p> + +<p>Yes; she was satisfied even with what she had seen; she had no manner +of doubt as to the theories put before her by Mr. Vincent; yet she +shrank (and she scarcely knew why) from that final consummation which +it was proposed to carry out if possible that evening. But the +shrinking centered round some half-discerned danger to Laurie Baxter +rather than to herself.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was these kinds of thoughts that beset her as she walked up beneath +the trees on her way homewards—checked and soothed now somewhat by +the pleasant air and the radiant sunlight, yet perceptible beneath +everything. And it was not only of Laurie Baxter that she thought; she +spared a little attention for herself.</p> + +<p>For she had begun to be aware, for the first time since her +initiation, of a very faint distaste—as slight and yet as suggestive +as that caused by a half-perceived consciousness of a delicately +disagreeable smell. There comes such a moment in the life of cut +flowers in water, when the impetus of growing energy ceases, and a new +tone makes itself felt in their scent, of which the end is certain. It +is not sufficient to cause the flowers to be thrown away; they still +possess volumes of fragrance; yet these decrease, and the new scent +increases, until it has the victory.</p> + +<p>So it was now to the perceptions of this lady. Oh! yes. Spiritualism +was very "teaching" and beautiful; it was perfectly compatible with +orthodox religion; it was undeniably true. She would not dream of +giving it up. Only it would be better if Laurie Baxter did not meddle +with it: he was too sensitive.... However, he was coming that evening +again.... There was the fact.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As she turned southwards at last, crossing the road again towards her +own street, it seemed to her that the day even now was beginning to +cloud over. Over the roofs of Kensington a haze was beginning to make +itself visible, as impalpable as a skein of smoke; yet there it was. +She felt a little languid, too. Perhaps she had walked too far. She +would rest a little after lunch, if dearest Maud did not mind; for +dearest Maud was to lunch with her, as was usual on Sundays when the +Colonel was away.</p> + +<p>As she came, slower than ever, down the broad opulent pavement of +Queen's Gate, through the silence and emptiness of Sunday—for the +church bells were long ago silent—she noticed coming towards her, +with a sauntering step, an old gentleman in frock coat and silk hat of +a slightly antique appearance, spatted and gloved, carrying his hands +behind his back, as if he were waiting to be joined by some friend +from one of the houses. She noticed that he looked at her through his +glasses, but thought no more of it till she turned up the steps of her +own house. Then she was startled by the sound of quick footsteps and +a voice.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, madam ..."</p> + +<p>She turned, with her key in the door, and there he stood, hat in hand.</p> + +<p>"Have I the pleasure of speaking to Lady Laura Bethell?"</p> + +<p>There was a pleasant brisk ring about his voice that inclined her +rather favorably towards him.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything.... Did you want to speak to me...? Yes, I am Lady +Laura Bethell."</p> + +<p>"I was told you were at church, madam, and that you were not at home +to visitors on Sunday."</p> + +<p>"That is quite right.... May I ask...?"</p> + +<p>"Only a few minutes, Lady Laura, I promise you. Will you forgive my +persistence?"</p> + +<p>Yes; the man was a gentleman; there was no doubt of that.</p> + +<p>"Would not tomorrow do? I am rather engaged today."</p> + +<p>He had his card-case ready, and without answering her at once, he came +up the steps and handed it to her.</p> + +<p>The name meant nothing at all to her.</p> + +<p>"Will not tomorrow...?" she began again.</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow will be too late," said the old gentleman. "I beg of you, +Lady Laura. It is on an extremely important matter."</p> + +<p>She still hesitated an instant; then she pushed the door open and went +in.</p> + +<p>"Please come in," she said.</p> + +<p>She was so taken aback by the sudden situation that she forgot +completely that the drawing-room would be upside down, and led the way +straight upstairs; and it was not till she was actually within the +door, with the old gentleman close on her heels, that she saw that, +with the exception of three or four chairs about the fire and the +table set out near the hearthrug, the room was empty of furniture.</p> + +<p>"I forgot," she said; "but will you mind coming in here.... We ... we +have a meeting here this evening."</p> + +<p>She led the way to the fire, and at first did not notice that he was +not following her. When she turned round she saw the old gentleman, +with his air of antique politeness completely vanished, standing and +looking about him with a very peculiar expression. She also noticed, +to her annoyance, that the cabinet was already in place in the little +ante-room and that his eyes almost immediately rested upon it. Yet +there was no look of wonder in his face; rather it was such a look +as a man might have on visiting the scene of a well-known +crime—interest, knowledge, and loathing.</p> + +<p>"So it is here—" he said in quite a low voice.</p> + +<p>Then he came across the room towards her.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>For an instant his bearded face looked so strangely at her that she +half moved towards the bell. Then he smiled, with a little reassuring +gesture.</p> + +<p>"No, no," he said. "May I sit down a moment?"</p> + +<p>She began hastily to cover her confusion.</p> + +<p>"It is a meeting," she said, "for this evening. I am sorry—"</p> + +<p>"Just so," he said. "It is about that that I have come."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon...?"</p> + +<p>"Please sit down, Lady Laura.... May I say in a sentence what I have +come to say?"</p> + +<p>This seemed a very odd old man.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes—" she said.</p> + +<p>"I have come to beg you not to allow Mr. Baxter to enter the +house.... No, I have no authority from anyone, least of all from Mr. +Baxter. He has no idea that I have come. He would think it an +unwarrantable piece of impertinence."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Cathcart ... I—I cannot—"</p> + +<p>"Allow me," he said, with a little compelling gesture that silenced +her. "I have been asked to interfere by a couple of people very much +interested in Mr. Baxter; one of them, if not both, completely +disbelieves in spiritualism."</p> + +<p>"Then you know—"</p> + +<p>He waved his hand towards the cabinet.</p> + +<p>"Of course I know," he said. "Why, I was a spiritualist for ten years +myself. No, not a medium; not a professional, that is to say. I know +all about Mr. Vincent; all about Mrs. Stapleton and yourself, Lady +Laura. I still follow the news closely; I know perfectly well—"</p> + +<p>"And you have given it up?"</p> + +<p>"I have given it up for a long while," he said quietly. "And I have +come to ask you to forbid Mr. Baxter to be present this evening, +for—for the same reason for which I have given it up myself."</p> + +<p>"Yes? And that—"</p> + +<p>"I don't think we need go into that," he said. "It is enough, is it +not, for me to say that Mr. Baxter's work, and, in fact, his whole +nervous system, is suffering considerably from the excitement; that +one of the persons who have asked me to do what I can is Mr. Baxter's +own law-coach: and that even if he had not asked me, Mr. Baxter's own +appearance—"</p> + +<p>"You know him?"</p> + +<p>"Practically, no. I lunched at the same table with him on Friday; the +symptoms are quite unmistakable."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand. Symptoms?"</p> + +<p>"Well, we will say symptoms of nervous excitement. You are aware, no +doubt, that he is exceptionally sensitive. Probably you have seen for +yourself—"</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment," said Lady Laura, her own heart beating furiously. +"Why do you not go to Mr. Baxter himself?"</p> + +<p>"I have done so. I arranged to meet him at lunch, and somehow I took a +wrong turn with him: I have no tact whatever, as you perceive. But I +wrote to him on Friday night, offering to call upon him, and just +giving him a hint. Well, it was useless. He refused to see me."</p> + +<p>"I don't see what I—"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," chirped the old gentleman almost gaily. "It would be quite +unusual and unconventional. I just ask you to send him a line—I will +take it myself, if you wish it—telling him that you think it would be +better for him not to come, and saying that you are making other +arrangements for tonight."</p> + +<p>He looked at her with that odd little air of birdlike briskness that +she had noticed in the street; and it pleasantly affected her even in +the midst of the uneasiness that now surged upon her again tenfold +more than before. She could see that there was something else behind +his manner; it had just looked out in the glance he had given round +the room on entering; but she could not trouble at this moment to +analyze what it was. She was completely bewildered by the strangeness +of the encounter, and the extraordinary coincidence of this man's +judgment with her own. Yet there were a hundred reasons against her +taking his advice. What would the others say? What of all the +arrangements ... the expectation...?</p> + +<p>"I don't see how it's possible now," she began. "I think I know what +you mean. But—"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I trust you have no idea," cried the old gentleman, with a +queer little falsetto note coming into his voice—"no idea at all. I +come to you merely on the plea of nervous excitement; it is injuring +his health, Lady Laura."</p> + +<p>She looked at him curiously.</p> + +<p>"But—" she began.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I will go further," he said. "Have you never heard of—of +insanity in connection with all this? We will call it insanity, if you +wish."</p> + +<p>For a moment her heart stood still. The word had a sinister sound, in +view of an incident she had once witnessed; but it seemed to her that +some meaning behind, unknown to her, was still more sinister. Why had +he said that it might be "called insanity" only...?</p> + +<p>"Yes.... I—I have once seen a case," she stammered.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the old gentleman, "is it not enough when I tell you that +I—I who was a spiritualist for ten years—have never seen a more +dangerous subject than Mr. Baxter? Is the risk worth it...? Lady +Laura, do you quite understand what you are doing?"</p> + +<p>He leaned forward a little; and again she felt anxiety, sickening and +horrible, surge within her. Yet, on the other hand....</p> + +<p>The door opened suddenly, and Mr. Vincent came in.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>There was silence for a moment; then the old gentleman turned round, +and in an instant was on his feet, quiet, but with an air of bristling +about his thrust-out chin and his tense attitude.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vincent paused, looking from one to the other.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Lady Laura," he said courteously. "Your man told +me to wait here; I think he did not know you had come in."</p> + +<p>"Well—er—this gentleman..." began Lady Laura. "Why, do you know +Mr. Vincent?" she asked suddenly, startled by the expression in the +old gentleman's face.</p> + +<p>"I used to know Mr. Vincent," he said shortly.</p> + +<p>"You have the advantage of me," smiled the medium, coming forward to +the fire.</p> + +<p>"My name is Cathcart, sir."</p> + +<p>The other started, almost imperceptibly.</p> + +<p>"Ah! yes," he said quietly. "We did meet a few times, I remember."</p> + +<p>Lady Laura was conscious of distinct relief at the interruption: it +seemed to her a providential escape from a troublesome decision.</p> + +<p>"I think there is nothing more to be said, Mr. Cathcart.... No, don't +go, Mr. Vincent. We had finished our talk."</p> + +<p>"Lady Laura," said the old gentleman with a rather determined air, "I +beg of you to give me ten minutes more private conversation."</p> + +<p>She hesitated, clearly foreseeing trouble either way. Then she +decided.</p> + +<p>"There is no necessity today," she said. "If you care to make an +appointment for one day next week, Mr. Cathcart—"</p> + +<p>"I am to understand that you refuse me a few minutes now?"</p> + +<p>"There is no necessity that I can see—"</p> + +<p>"Then I must say what I have to say before Mr. Vincent—"</p> + +<p>"One moment, sir," put in the medium, with that sudden slight air of +imperiousness that Lady Laura knew very well by now. "If Lady Laura +consents to hear you, I must take it on myself to see that nothing +offensive is said." He glanced as if for leave towards the woman.</p> + +<p>She made an effort.</p> + +<p>"If you will say it quickly," she began. "Otherwise—"</p> + +<p>The old gentleman drew a breath as if to steady himself. It was plain +that he was very strongly moved beneath his self-command: his air of +cheerful geniality was gone.</p> + +<p>"I will say it in one sentence," he said. "It is this: You are ruining +that boy between you, body and soul; and you are responsible before +his Maker and yours. And if—"</p> + +<p>"Lady Laura," said the medium, "do you wish to hear any more?"</p> + +<p>She made a doubtful little gesture of assent.</p> + +<p>"And if you wish to know my reasons for saying this," went on Mr. +Cathcart, "you have only to ask for them from Mr. Vincent. He knows +well enough why I left spiritualism—if he dares to tell you."</p> + +<p>Lady Laura glanced at the medium. He was perfectly still and +quiet—looking, watching the old man curiously and half humorously +under his heavy eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"And I understand," went on the other, "that tonight you are to make +an attempt at complete materialization. Very good; then after tonight +it may be too late. I have tried to appeal to the boy: he will not +hear me. And you too have refused to hear me out. I could give you +evidence, if you wished. Ask this gentleman how many cases he has +known in the last five years, where complete ruin, body and soul—"</p> + +<p>The medium turned a little to the fire, sighing as if for weariness: +and at the sound the old man stopped, trembling. It was more obvious +than ever that he only held himself in restraint by a very violent +effort: it was as if the presence of the medium affected him in an +extraordinary degree.</p> + +<p>Lady Laura glanced again from one to the other.</p> + +<p>"That is all, then?" she said.</p> + +<p>His lips worked. Then he burst out—</p> + +<p>"I am sick of talking," he cried—"sick of it! I have warned you. That +is enough. I cannot do more."</p> + +<p>He wheeled on his heel and went out. A minute later the two heard the +front door bang.</p> + +<p>She looked at Mr. Vincent. He was twirling softly in his strong +fingers a little bronze candlestick that stood on the mantelpiece: his +manner was completely unconcerned; he even seemed to be smiling a +little.</p> + +<p>For herself she felt helpless. She had taken her choice, impelled to +it, though she scarcely recognized the fact, by the entrance of this +strong personality; and now she needed reassurance once again. But +before she had a word to say, he spoke—still in his serene manner.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he said. "I remember now. I used to know Mr. Cathcart +once. A very violent old gentleman."</p> + +<p>"What did he mean?"</p> + +<p>"His reasons for leaving us? Indeed I scarcely remember. I suppose it +was because he became a Catholic."</p> + +<p>"Was there nothing more?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"Why, I daresay there was. I really can't remember, Lady Laura. I +suppose he had his nerves shaken. You can see for yourself what a +fanatic he is."</p> + +<p>But in spite of his presence, once more a gust of anxiety shook her.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent, are you sure it's safe—for Mr. Baxter, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Safe? Why, he's as safe as any of us can be. We all have nervous +systems, of course."</p> + +<p>"But he's particularly sensitive, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, yes. That is why even this evening he must not go into +trance. That must come later, after a good training."</p> + +<p>She stood up, and came herself to stand by the mantelpiece.</p> + +<p>"Then really there's no danger?"</p> + +<p>He turned straight to her, looking at her with kind, smiling eyes.</p> + +<p>"Lady Laura," he said, "have I ever yet told you that there was no +danger? I think not. There is always danger, for every one of us, as +there is for the scientist in the laboratory, and the engineer in his +machinery. But what we can do is to reduce that danger to a minimum, +so that, humanly speaking, we are reasonably and sufficiently safe. No +doubt you remember the case of that girl? Well, that was an accident: +and accidents will happen; but do me the justice to remember that it +was the first time that I had seen her. It was absolutely impossible +to foresee. She was on the very edge of a nervous breakdown before +she entered the room. But with regard to Mr. Baxter, I have seen him +again and again; and I tell you that I consider him to be running a +certain risk—but a perfectly justifiable one, and one that is reduced +to a minimum, if I did not think that we were taking every precaution, +I would not have him in the room for all the world.... Are you +satisfied, Lady Laura?"</p> + +<p>Every word he said helped her back to assurance. It was all so +reasonable and well weighed. If he had said there was no danger, she +would have feared the more, but his very recognition of it gave her +security. And above all, his tranquility and his strength were +enormous assets on his side.</p> + +<p>She drew a breath, and decided to go forward.</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Cathcart?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He smiled again.</p> + +<p>"You can see what he is," he said. "I should advise you not to see him +again. It's of no sort of use."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XIII" id="Chapter_XIII" /><i>Chapter XIII</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>The weather forecasts had been in the right; and the few that +struggled homewards that night from church fought against a south-west +wind that tore, laden with driving rain, up the streets and across the +open spaces, till the very lights were dimmed in the tall street lamps +and shone only through streaming panes that seemed half opaque with +mist and vapor. In Queen's Gate hardly one lighted window showed that +the houses were inhabited. So fierce was the clamor and storm of the +broad street that men made haste to shut out every glimpse of the +night, and the fanlights above the doors, or here and there a line of +brightness where some draught had tossed the curtains apart, were the +only signs of human life. Outside the broad pavements stared like +surfaces of some canal, black and mirror-like, empty of passengers, +catching every spark or hint of light from house and lamp, +transforming it to a tall streak of glimmering wetness.</p> + +<p>The housekeeper's room in this house on the right was the more +delightful from the contrast. It was here that the august assembly was +held every evening after supper, set about with rigid etiquette and +ancient rite. Its windows looked on to the little square garden at the +back, but were now tight shuttered and curtained; and the room was a +very model of comfort and warmth. Before the fire a square table was +drawn up, set out with pudding and fruit, for it was here that the +upper servants withdrew after the cold meat and beer of the servants' +hall, to be waited upon by the butler's boy: and it was round this +that the four sat in state—housekeeper, butler, lady's maid, and +cook.</p> + +<p>It was already after ten o'clock; and Mr. Parker was permitted to +smoke a small cigar. They had discussed the weather, the sermon that +Miss Baker had heard in the morning, and the prospects of a +Dissolution; and they had once more returned to the mysteries that +were being enacted upstairs. They were getting accustomed to them now, +and there was not a great deal to say, unless they repeated +themselves, which they had no objection to do. Their attitude was one +of tolerant skepticism, tempered by an agreeable tendency on the part +of Miss Baker to become agitated after a certain point. Mr. Vincent, +it was generally conceded, was a respectable sort of man, with an air +about him that could hardly be put into words, and it was thought to +be a pity that he lent himself to such superstition. Mrs. Stapleton +had been long ago dismissed as a silly sort of woman, though with a +will of her own; and her ladyship, of course, must have her way; it +could not last long, it was thought.</p> + +<p>But young Mr. Baxter was another matter, and there was a deal to say +about him. He was a gentleman—that was certain; and he seemed to have +sense; but it was a pity that he was so often here now on this +business. He had not said one word to Mr. Parker this evening as he +took off his coat; Mr. Parker had not thought that he looked very +well.</p> + +<p>"He was too quiet-like," said the butler.</p> + +<p>As to the details of the affair upstairs—these were considered in a +purely humorous light. It was understood that tables danced a +hornpipe, and that tambourines were beaten by invisible hands; and it +was not necessary to go further into principles, particularly since +all these things were done by machinery at the Egyptian Hall. Faces +also, it was believed, were seen looking out of the cabinet which +Mr. Parker had once more helped to erect this morning; but these, it +was explained, were "done" by luminous paint. Finally, if people +insisted on looking into causes, Electricity was a sufficient answer +for all the rest. No one actually suggested water-power.</p> + +<p>As for human motives, these were not called in question at all. It +appeared to amuse some people to do this kind of thing, as others +might collect old china or practice the cotillion. There it was, a +fact, and there was no more to be said about it. Old Lady Carraden, +where Mr. Parker had once been under-butler, had gone in for pouter +pigeons; and Miss Baker had heard tell of a nobleman who had a +carpenter's shop of his own.</p> + +<p>These things were so, then; and meantime here was a cigar to be smoked +by Mr. Parker, and a little weak tea to be taken by the three ladies.</p> + +<p>It was about a quarter-past ten when a reversion was made to the +weather. Within here all was supremely comfortable. A black stuff mat, +with a red fringed border, lay before the blazing fire, convenient to +the feet; the heavy red curtains shut out the darkness, and where the +glass cases of china permitted it, large photographs of wedding groups +and the houses of the nobility hung upon the walls. A King Charles' +spaniel, in another glass case, looked upon the company with an +eternal snarl belied by the mildness of his brown eyes; and, +corresponding to him on the other side of the fire, a numerous family +of humming-birds, a little dusty and dim, poised perpetually above the +flowers of a lichened tree, with a flaming sunset to show them up.</p> + +<p>But, without, the wind tore unceasingly, laden with rain, through the +gusty darkness of the little garden, and, in the pauses, the swift +dripping from the roof splashed and splashed upon the paved walk. It +was a very wild night, as Mr. Parker observed four times: he only +hoped that no one would require a hansom cab. He had been foolish +enough to take the responsibility tonight of letting the guests out +himself, and of allowing William to go to bed when he wished. And +these were late affairs, seldom over before eleven, and often not till +nearly midnight.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Martin, in her blouse, moved a little nearer the fire, and said +she must be off soon to bed; Mrs. Mayle, in her black silk, added that +there was no telling when her ladyship would get to bed, what with +Mrs. Stapleton and all, and commiserated Miss Baker; Miss Baker +moaned a little in self-pity; and Mr. Parker remarked for the fifth +time that it was a wild night. It was an astonishingly serene and +domestic atmosphere: no effort of imagination or wit was required from +anybody; it was enough to make observations when they occurred to the +brain, and they would meet with a tranquil response.</p> + +<p>As half-past ten tinkled out from the little yellow marble clock on +the mantelpiece—it had been won by Mrs. Mayle's deceased husband in a +horticultural exhibition—Mrs. Martin said that she must go and have a +look at the scullery to see that all was as it should be; there was no +knowing with these girls nowadays what they might not leave undone; +and Mrs. Mayle preened herself gently with the thought that her +responsibilities were on a higher plane. Mr. Parker made a courteous +movement as if to rise, and remained seated, as the cook rustled out. +Miss Baker sighed again as she contemplated the long conversation that +might take place between the two ladies upstairs before she could get +her mistress to bed.</p> + +<p>Once more the tranquil atmosphere settled down on the warm room; the +brass lamp burned brightly with a faint and reassuring smell of +paraffin; the fire presented a radiant cavern of red coals fringed by +dancing flames; and Mr. Parker leaned forwards to shake off the ash of +his cigar.</p> + +<p>Then, on a sudden, he paused, for from the passage outside came the +passionless tinkle of an electric bell—then another, and another, and +another, as if some person overhead strove by reiteration on that +single note to cry out some overwhelming need.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>Overhead in the great empty drawing-room the noise of the wind and +rain, the almost continuous spatter on the glass, and the long hooting +of the gusts, had been far more noticeable than in the basement +beneath. Below stairs the company had been natural and normal, talking +of this and that, in a brightly lighted room, dwelling only on matters +that fell beneath the range of their senses, lulled by warmth and food +and cigar-smoke into a kind of rapt self-contemplation. But up here, +in the gloom, lighted only on this occasion by a single shaded candle, +in a complete interior silence, three persons had sat round a table +for more than an hour, striving by passivity and a kind of +indescribable concentration to ignore all that was presented by the +senses, and to await some movement from that which lies beyond them.</p> + +<p>Lady Laura had sat down that night in a state of mind which she could +not analyze. It was not that her anxieties had been lulled so much as +counterbalanced; they were still there, at once poignant and heavy, +but on the other side there had been the assured air of the medium, +his reasonableness and his personality, as well as the enthusiasm of +her friend, and her astonished remonstrances. She had decided to +acquiesce, not because she was satisfied, but because on the whole +anxiety was outweighed by confidence. She could not have taken action +under such circumstances, but she could at least refrain from it.</p> + +<p>Laurie, as Mr. Parker had noticed, had been "quiet-like"; he had said +very little indeed, but a nervous strain was evident in the brightness +of his eyes; but in answer to a conventional inquiry he had declared +himself extremely well. Mr. Vincent had looked at him for just an +instant longer than usual as he shook hands, but he said nothing. Mrs. +Stapleton had made an ecstatic remark or two on the envy with which +she regarded the boy's sensitive faculties.</p> + +<p>At the beginning of the <i>séance</i> the medium had repeated his warnings as +to Laurie's avoiding of trance, and had added one or two other +precautions. Then he had gone into the cabinet; the fire had been +pressed down under ashes, and a single candle lighted and placed +behind the angle of the little adjoining room in such a position that +its shaded light fell upon the cabinet only and the figure of the +medium within.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When the silence became fixed, Lady Laura for the first time perceived +the rage of wind and rain outside. The very intensity of the interior +stillness and the rapture of attention emphasized to an extraordinary +degree the windy roar without. Yet the silence seemed to her, now as +always, to have a peculiar faculty of detaching the psychical from the +physical atmosphere. In spite of the batter of rain not ten feet away, +the sighing between the shutters, and even the lift now and again of +the heavy curtains in the draught, she seemed to herself as remote +from it as does a man crouching in the dark under some ruin feel +himself at an almost infinite distance from the pick and the hammer of +the rescuers. These were in one world, she in another.</p> + +<p>For over an hour no movement was made. She herself sat facing the +fire, Laurie on her left looking towards the cabinet with his back to +the windows, Mrs. Stapleton opposite to her.</p> + +<p>An endless procession of thoughts defiled before her as she sat, yet +these too were somewhat remote—far up, so to speak, on the +superficies of consciousness: they did not approach that realm of the +will poised now and attentive on another range of existence. Once and +again she glanced up without moving her head at the three-quarter +profile on her left, at the somewhat Zulu-like outline opposite to +her; then down again at the polished little round table and the six +hands laid upon it. And meanwhile her brain revolved images rather +than thoughts, memories rather than reflections—vignettes, so to +speak,—old Mr. Cathcart in his spats and frock-coat, the look on the +medium's face, there and gone again in an instant as he had heard the +stranger's name; the carved oak stalls of the chancel towards which +she had faced this morning, the look of the park, the bloom upon the +still leafless trees, the radiance of the blue spring sky....</p> + +<p>It must have been, she thought, after a little over an hour that the +first expected movement made itself felt—a long trembling shudder +through the wood beneath her hands, followed by a strange sensation of +lightness, as if the whole table rose a little from the floor. Then, +almost before the movement subsided, a torrent of little taps poured +itself out, as delicate and as swift and, it seemed, as perfectly +calculated, as the rapping of some minute electric hammer. This was +new to her, yet not so unlike other experiences as to seem strange or +perturbing in any way.... Again she bent her attention to the table as +the vibration ceased.</p> + +<p>There followed a long silence.</p> + +<p>It must have been about ten minutes later that she became aware of the +next phenomenon; and her attention had been called to it by a sudden +noiseless uplifting of the profile on her left. She turned her face to +the cabinet and looked; and there, perfectly discernible, was some +movement going on between the curtains. For the moment she could see +the medium clearly, his arms folded, indicated by the white lines of +his cuffs across his breast, his head sunk forward in deep sleep; and +at the next instant the curtains flapped two or three times, as if +jerked from within, and finally rested completely closed.</p> + +<p>She glanced quickly at the boy on her left, and in the diffused light +from the other room could see him distinctly, his eyes open and +watching, his lips compressed as if in some tense effort of +self-control.</p> + +<p>When she looked at the cabinet again she could see that some movement +had begun again behind the curtains, for these swayed and jerked +convulsively, as if some person with but little room was moving there. +And she could hear now, as the gusts outside lulled for a moment, the +steady rather stertorous breathing of the medium. Then once again the +wind gathered strength outside; the rain tore at the glass like a +streaming handful of tiny pebbles, and the great curtains at her side +lifted and sighed in the draught through the shutters.</p> + +<p>When it quieted again the breathing had become a measured moaning, as +that which a dreaming dog emits at the end of each expiration; and she +herself drew a long trembling breath, overwhelmed by the sense of some +struggle in the room such as she had not experienced before.</p> + +<p>It was impossible for her to express this even to herself; yet the +perception was clear—as clear as some presentment of the senses. She +knew during those moments, as she watched the swaying curtains of the +cabinet in the shaded light that fell upon them, and heard now and +again that low moan from behind them, that some kind of stress lay +upon something that was new to her in this connection. For the time +she forgot her undertone of anxiety as to this boy at her side, and a +curious terrified excitement took its place. Once, even then, she +glanced at him again, and saw the motionless profile watching, always +watching....</p> + +<p>Then in an instant the climax came, and this is what she saw.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The commotion of the curtains ceased suddenly, and they hung in +straight folds from roof to floor of the little cabinet. Then they +gently parted—she saw the long fingers that laid hold of them—and +the form of a person came out, descended the single step, and stood on +the floor before her eyes, in the plain candlelight, not four steps +away.</p> + +<p>It was the figure of a young girl, perfectly formed in all its parts, +swathed in some light stuff resembling muslin that fell almost to the +feet and shrouded the upper part of the head. Her hands were clasped +across her breast, her bare feet were visible against the dark floor, +and her features were unmistakably clear. There was a certain beauty +in the face—in the young lips, the open eyes, and the dark lines of +the brows over them; and the complexion was waxen, clear as of a +blonde. But, as the observer had noticed before on the three or four +occasions on which she had seen these phenomena, there was a strange +mask-like set of the features, as if the life that lay behind them had +not perfectly saturated that which expressed it. It was something +utterly different from the face of a dead person, yet also not +completely alive, though the eyes turned a little in their sockets, +and the young down-curved lips smiled. Behind her, plain between the +tossed-back curtains, was the figure of the medium sunk in sleep.</p> + +<p>And so for a few seconds the apparition remained.</p> + +<p>It seemed to the watcher that during those seconds the whole world was +still. Whether in truth the wind had dropped, or whether the absorbed +attention perceived nothing but the marvel before it, yet so it +seemed. Even the breathing of the medium had stopped; Lady Laura heard +only the ticking of the watch upon her own wrist.</p> + +<p>Then, as once more a gust tore up from the south-west, the figure +moved forward a step nearer the table, coming with a motion as of a +living person, causing, it even appeared, that faint vibration on the +floor as of a living body.</p> + +<p>She stood so near now, though with her back to the diffused light of +the ante-room, that her features were more plain than before—the +stained lips, the open eyes, the shadow beneath the nostrils and chin, +even the white fingers clasped across the breast. There was none of +that vague mistiness that had been seen once before in that room; +every line was as clear-cut as in the face of a living person; even +the swell of the breast beneath the hands, the slender sloping +shoulders, the long curved line from hip to ankle, all were real and +discernible. And once again the staring eyes of the watcher took in, +and her mind perceived, that slight mask-like look on the pretty +appealing face.</p> + +<p>Once again the figure came forward, straight on to the table; and +then, so swift that not a motion or a word could check it, the +catastrophe fell.</p> + +<p>There was a violent movement on Lady Laura's left hand, a chair shot +back and fell, and with a horrible tearing cry from the throat, the +boy dashed himself face forwards across the table, snatched at and for +an instant seized something real and concrete that stood there; and as +the two women sprang up, losing sight for an instant of the figure +that had been there a moment ago, the boy sank forward, moaning and +sobbing, and a crash as of a heavy body falling sounded from the +cabinet.</p> + +<p>For a space of reckonable time there was complete silence. Then once +more a blast of wind tore up from the south-west, rain shattered +against the window, and the house vibrated to the shock.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XIV" id="Chapter_XIV" /><i>Chapter XIV</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>As the date approached Maggie felt her anxieties settle down, like a +fire, from turbulence to steady flame. On the Sunday she had with real +difficulty kept it to herself, and the fringe of the storm of wind and +rain that broke over Herefordshire in the evening had not been +reassuring. Yet on one thing her will kept steady hold, and that was +that Mrs. Baxter must not be consulted. No conceivable good could +result, and there might even be harm: either the old lady would be too +much or not enough concerned: she might insist on Laurie's return to +Stantons, or might write him a cheering letter encouraging him to +amuse himself in any direction that he pleased. So Maggie passed the +evening in fits of alternate silence and small conversation, and +succeeded in making Mrs. Baxter recommend a good long night.</p> + +<p>Monday morning, however, broke with a cloudless sky, an air like wine, +and the chatter of birds; and by the time that Maggie went to look at +the crocuses immediately before breakfast, she was all but at her ease +again. Enough, however, of anxiety remained to make her hurry out to +the stable-yard when she heard the postman on his way to the back +door.</p> + +<p>There was one letter for her, in Mr. Cathcart's handwriting; and she +opened it rather hastily as she turned in again to the garden.</p> + +<p>It was reassuring. It stated that the writer had approached—that was +the word—Mr. Baxter, though unfortunately with ill-success, and that +he proposed on the following day—the letter was dated on Saturday +evening—also to approach Lady Laura Bethell. He felt fairly +confident, he said, that his efforts would succeed in postponing, at +any rate, Mr. Baxter's visit to Lady Laura; and in that case he would +write further as to what was best to be done. In the meanwhile Miss +Deronnais was not to be in the least anxious. Whatever happened, it +was extremely improbable that one visit more or less to a <i>séance</i> +would carry any great harm: it was the habit, rather than the act, +that was usually harmful to the nervous system. And the writer begged +to remain her obedient servant.</p> + +<p>Maggie's spirits rose with a bound. How extraordinarily foolish she +had been, she told herself, to have been filled with such forebodings +last night! It was more than likely that the <i>séance</i> had taken place +without Laurie; and, even at the worst, as Mr. Cathcart said, he was +probably only a little more excited than usual this morning.</p> + +<p>So she began to think about future arrangements; and by the time that +Mrs. Baxter looked benignantly out at her from beneath the Queen Anne +doorway to tell her that breakfast was waiting, she was conceiving of +the possibility of going up herself to London in a week or two on some +shopping excuse, and of making one more genial attempt to persuade +Laurie to be a sensible boy again.</p> + +<p>During her visit to the fowl-yard after breakfast she began to +elaborate these plans.</p> + +<p>She was clear now, once again, that the whole thing was a fantastic +delusion, and that its sole harm was that it was superstitious and +nerve-shaking. (She threw a large handful of maize, with a meditative +eye.) It was on that ground and that only that she would approach +Laurie. Perhaps even it would be better for her not to go and see him; +it might appear that she was making too much of it: a good sensible +letter might do the work equally well.... Well, she would wait at +least to hear from Mr. Cathcart once more. The second post would +probably bring a letter from him. (She emptied her bowl.)</p> + +<p>She was out again in the spring sunshine, walking up and down before +the house with a book, by the time that the second post was due. But +this time, through the iron gate, she saw the postman go past the +house without stopping. Once more her spirits rose, this time, one +might say, to par; and she went indoors.</p> + +<p>Her window looked out on to the front; and she moved her writing-table +to it to catch as much as possible of the radiant air and light of the +spring day. She proposed to begin to sketch out what she would say to +Laurie, and suggest, if he wished it, to come up and see him in a week +or two. She would apologize for her fussiness, and say that the reason +why she was writing was that she did not want his mother to be made +anxious.</p> + +<p>"My dear Laurie..."</p> + +<p>She bit her pen gently, and looked out of the window to catch +inspiration for the particular frame of words with which she should +begin. And as she looked an old gentleman suddenly appeared beyond the +iron gate, shook it gently, glanced up in vain for a name on the stone +posts, and stood irresolute. It was an old trap, that of the front +gate; there was no bell, and it was necessary for visitors to come +straight in to the front door.</p> + +<p>Then, so swiftly that she could not formulate it, an anxiety leapt at +her, and she laid her pen down, staring. Who was this?</p> + +<p>She went quickly to the bell and rang it; standing there waiting, with +beating heart and face suddenly gone white....</p> + +<p>"Susan," she said, "there is an old gentleman at the gate. Go out and +see who it is.... Stop: if it is anyone for me ... if—if he gives the +name of Mr. Cathcart, ask him to be so kind as to go round the turn to +the village and wait for me.... Susan, don't say anything to +Mrs. Baxter; it may just possibly be bad news."</p> + +<p>From behind the curtain she watched the maid go down the path, saw a +few words pass between her and the stranger, and then the maid come +back. She waited breathless.</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss. It is a Mr. Cathcart. He said he would wait for you."</p> + +<p>Maggie nodded.</p> + +<p>"I will go," she said. "Remember, please do not say a word to anyone. +It may be bad news, as I said."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As she walked through the hamlet three minutes later, she began to +recognize that the news must be really serious; and that beneath all +her serenity she had been aware of its possibility. So intense now was +that anxiety—though perfectly formless in its details—that all other +faculties seemed absorbed into it. She could not frame any imagination +as to what it meant; she could form no plan, alternative or absolute, +as to what must be done. She was only aware that something had +happened, and that she would know the facts in a few seconds.</p> + +<p>About fifty yards up the turning she saw the old gentleman waiting. +He was in his London clothes, silk-hatted and spatted, and made a +curiously incongruous picture there in the deep-banked lane that led +upwards to the village. On either side towered the trees, still +leafless, yet bursting with life; and overhead chattered the birds +against the tender midday sky of spring.</p> + +<p>He lifted his hat as she came to him; but they spoke no word of +greeting.</p> + +<p>"Tell me quickly," she said. "I am Maggie Deronnais."</p> + +<p>He turned to walk by her side, saying nothing for a moment.</p> + +<p>"The facts or the interpretation?" he asked in his brisk manner. "I +will just say first that I have seen him this morning."</p> + +<p>"Oh! the facts," she said. "Quickly, please."</p> + +<p>"Well, he is going to Mr. Morton's chambers this afternoon; he +says..."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"One moment, please.... Oh! he is not seriously ill, as the world +counts illness. He thought he was just very tired this morning. I went +round to call on him. He was in bed at half-past ten when I left him. +Then I came straight down here."</p> + +<p>For a moment she thought the old man mad. The relief was so intense +that she flushed scarlet, and stopped dead in the middle of the road.</p> + +<p>"You came down here," she repeated. "Why, I thought—"</p> + +<p>He looked at her gravely, in spite of the incessant twinkle in his +eyes. She perceived that this old man's eyes would twinkle at a +death-bed. He stroked his grey beard smoothly down.</p> + +<p>"Yes; you thought that he was dead, perhaps? Oh, no. But for all that, +Miss Deronnais, it is just as serious as it can be."</p> + +<p>She did not know what to think. Was the man a madman himself?</p> + +<p>"Listen, please. I am telling you simply the facts. I was anxious, and +I went round this morning first to Lady Laura Bethell. To my +astonishment she saw me. I will not tell you all that she said, just +now. She was in a terrible state, though she did not know one-tenth +of the harm—Well, after what she told me I went round straight to +Mitre Court. The porter was inclined not to let me in. Well, I went +in, and straight into Mr. Baxter's bedroom; and I found there—"</p> + +<p>He stopped.</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"I found exactly what I had feared, and expected."</p> + +<p>"Oh! tell me quickly," she cried, wheeling on him in anger.</p> + +<p>He looked at her as if critically for a moment. Then he went on +abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I found Mr. Baxter in bed. I made no apology at all. I said simply +that I had come to see how he was after the <i>séance</i>."</p> + +<p>"It took place, then—"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes.... I forgot to mention that Lady Laura would pay no +attention to me yesterday.... Yes, it took place.... Well, Mr. Baxter +did not seem surprised to see me. He told me he felt tired. He said +that the <i>séance</i> had been a success. And while he talked I watched +him. Then I came away and caught the ten-fifty."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand in the least," said Maggie.</p> + +<p>"So I suppose," said the other dryly. "I imagine you do not believe in +spiritualism at all—I mean that you think that the whole thing is +fraud or hysteria?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," said Maggie bravely.</p> + +<p>He nodded once or twice.</p> + +<p>"So do most sensible people. Well, Miss Deronnais, I have come to warn +you. I did not write, because it was impossible to know what to say +until I had seen you and heard your answer to that question. At the +same time, I wanted to lose no time. Anything may happen now at any +moment.... I wanted to tell you this: that I am at your service now +altogether. When—" he stopped; then he began again, "If you hear no +further news for the present, may I ask when you expect to see Mr. +Baxter again?"</p> + +<p>"In Easter week."</p> + +<p>"That is a fortnight off.... Do you think you could persuade him to +come down here next week instead? I should like you to see him for +yourself: or even sooner."</p> + +<p>She was still hopelessly confused with these apparent alternations. +She still wondered whether Mr. Cathcart were as mad as he seemed. They +turned, as the village came in sight ahead, up the hill.</p> + +<p>"Next week? I could try," she said mechanically. "But I don't +understand—"</p> + +<p>He held up a gloved hand.</p> + +<p>"Wait till you have seen him," he said. "For myself, I shall make a +point of seeing Mr. Morton every day to hear the news.... Miss +Deronnais, I tell you plainly that you alone will have to bear the +weight of all this, unless Mrs. Baxter—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, do explain," she said almost irritably.</p> + +<p>He looked at her with those irresistibly twinkling eyes, but she +perceived a very steady will behind them.</p> + +<p>"I will explain nothing at all," he said, "now that I have seen you, +and heard what you think, except this single point. What you have to +be prepared for is the news that Mr. Baxter has suddenly gone out of +his mind."</p> + +<p>It was said in exactly the same tone as his previous sentences, and +for a moment she did not catch the full weight of its meaning. She +stopped and looked at him, paling gradually.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you took that very well," he said, still meeting her eyes +steadily. "Stop.... Keep a strong hold on yourself. That is the worst +you have to hear, for the present. Now tell me immediately whether you +think Mrs. Baxter should be informed or not."</p> + +<p>Her leaping heart slowed down into three or four gulping blows at the +base of her throat. She swallowed with difficulty.</p> + +<p>"How do you know—"</p> + +<p>"Kindly answer my question," he said. "Do you think Mrs. Baxter—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, God! Oh, God!" sobbed Maggie.</p> + +<p>"Steady, steady," said the old man. "Take my arm, Miss Deronnais."</p> + +<p>She shook her head, keeping her eyes fixed on his.</p> + +<p>He smiled in his grey beard.</p> + +<p>"Very good," he said, "very good. And do you think—"</p> + +<p>She shook her head again.</p> + +<p>"No: not one word. She is his mother. Besides—she is not the +kind—she would be of no use."</p> + +<p>"Yes: it is as I thought. Very well, Miss Deronnais; you will have to +be responsible. You can wire for me at any moment. You have my +address?"</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then I have one or two things to add. Whatever happens, do not lose +heart for one moment. I have seen these cases again and again.... +Whatever happens, too, do not put yourself into a doctor's hands until +I have seen Mr. Baxter for myself. The thing may come suddenly or +gradually. And the very instant you are convinced it is coming, +telegraph to me. I will be here two hours after.... Do you +understand?"</p> + +<p>They halted twenty yards from the turning into the hamlet. He looked +at her again with his kindly humorous eyes.</p> + +<p>She nodded slowly and deliberately, repeating in her own mind his +instructions; and beneath, like a whirl of waters, questions surged to +and fro, clamoring for answer. But her self-control was coming back +each instant.</p> + +<p>"You understand, Miss Deronnais?" he said again.</p> + +<p>"I understand. Will you write to me?"</p> + +<p>"I will write this evening.... Once more, then. Get him down next +week. Watch him carefully when he comes. Consult no doctor until you +have telegraphed to me, and I have seen him."</p> + +<p>She drew a long breath, nodding almost mechanically.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Miss Deronnais. Let me tell you that you are taking it +magnificently. Fear nothing; pray much."</p> + +<p>He took her hand for a moment. Then he raised his hat and left her +standing there.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter was exceedingly absorbed just now in a new pious book of +meditations written by a clergyman. A nicely bound copy of it, which +she had ordered specially, had arrived by the parcels post that +morning; and she had been sitting in the drawing-room ever since +looking through it, and marking it with a small silver pencil. +Religion was to this lady what horticulture was to Maggie, except of +course that it was really important, while horticulture was not. She +often wondered that Maggie did not seem to understand: of course she +went to mass every morning, dear girl; but religion surely was much +more than that; one should be able to sit for two or three hours over +a book in the drawing-room, before the fire, with a silver pencil.</p> + +<p>So at lunch she prattled of the book almost continuously, and at the +end of it thought Maggie more unsubtle than ever: she looked rather +tired and strained, thought the old lady, and she hardly said a word +from beginning to end.</p> + +<p>The drive in the afternoon was equally unsatisfactory. Mrs. Baxter +took the book with her, and the pencil, in order to read aloud a few +extracts here and there; and she again seemed to find Maggie rather +vacuous and silent.</p> + +<p>"Dearest child, you are not very well, I think," she said at last.</p> + +<p>Maggie roused herself suddenly.</p> + +<p>"What, Auntie?"</p> + +<p>"You are not very well, I think. Did you sleep well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I slept all right," said Maggie vaguely.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>But after tea Mrs. Baxter did not feel very well herself. She said she +thought she must have taken a little chill. Maggie looked at her with +unperceptive eyes.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," she said mechanically.</p> + +<p>"Dearest, you don't seem very overwhelmed. I think perhaps I shall +have dinner in bed. Give me my book, child.... Yes, and the +pencil-case."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter's room was so comfortable, and the book so fascinatingly +spiritual, that she determined to keep her resolution and go to bed. +She felt feverish, just to the extent of being very sleepy and at her +ease. She rang her bell and issued her commands.</p> + +<p>"A little of the <i>volaille</i>," she said, "with a spoonful of soup +before it.... No, no meat; but a custard or so, and a little fruit. +Oh! yes, Charlotte, and tell Miss Maggie not to come and see me after +dinner."</p> + +<p>It seemed that the message had roused the dear girl at last, for +Maggie appeared ten minutes later in quite a different mood. There was +really some animation in her face.</p> + +<p>"Dear Auntie, I am so very sorry.... Yes; do go to bed, and breakfast +there in the morning too. I'm just writing to Laurie, by the way."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter nodded sleepily from her deep chair.</p> + +<p>"He's coming down in Easter week, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"So he says, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't he come next week instead, Auntie, and be with us for +Easter? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Very nice indeed, dear child; but don't bother the boy."</p> + +<p>"And you don't think it's influenza?" put in Maggie swiftly, laying a +cool hand on the old lady's.</p> + +<p>She maintained it was not. It was just a little chill, such as she had +had this time last year: and it became necessary to rouse herself a +little to enumerate the symptoms. By the time she had done, Maggie's +attention had begun to wander again: the old lady had never known her +so unsympathetic before, and said so with gentle peevishness.</p> + +<p>Maggie kissed her quickly.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Auntie," she said. "I was just thinking of +something. Sleep well; and don't get up in the morning."</p> + +<p>Then she left her to a spoonful of soup, a little <i>volaille</i>, a +custard, some fruit, her spiritual book and contentment.</p> + +<p>Downstairs she dined alone in the green-hung dining-room; and she +revolved for the twentieth time the thoughts that had been +continuously with her since midday, moving before her like a +kaleidoscope, incessantly changing their relations, their shapes, and +their suggestions. These tended to form themselves into two main +alternative classes. Either Mr. Cathcart was a harmless fanatic, or he +was unusually sharp. But these again had almost endless subdivisions, +for at present she had no idea of what was really in his mind—as to +what his hints meant. Either this curious old gentleman with shrewd, +humorous eyes was entirely wrong, and Laurie was just suffering from a +nervous strain, not severe enough to hinder him from reading law in +Mr. Morton's chambers; and this was all the substratum of Mr. +Cathcart's mysteries: or else Mr. Cathcart was right, and Laurie was +in the presence of some danger called insanity which Mr. Cathcart +interpreted in some strange fashion she could not understand. And +beneath all this again moved the further questions as to what +spiritualism really was—what it professed to be, or mere +superstitious nonsense, or something else.</p> + +<p>She was amazed that she had not demanded greater explicitness this +morning; but the thing had been so startling, so suggestive at first, +so insignificant in its substance, that her ordinary common sense had +deserted her. The old gentleman had come and gone like a wraith, had +uttered a few inconclusive sentences, and promised to write, had been +disappointed with her at one moment and enthusiastic the next. +Obviously their planes ran neither parallel nor opposing; they cut at +unexpected points; and Maggie had no notion as to the direction in +which his lay. All she saw plainly was that there was some point of +view other than hers.</p> + +<p>So, then, she revolved theories, questioned, argued, doubted with +herself. One thing only emerged—the old lady's feverish cold afforded +her exactly the opportunity she wished; she could write to Laurie with +perfect truthfulness that his mother had taken to her bed, and that +she hoped he would come down next week instead of the week after.</p> + +<p>After dinner she sat down and wrote it, pausing many times to consider +a phrase.</p> + +<p>Then she read a little, and soon after ten went upstairs to bed.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>It was a little before sunset on that day that Mr. James Morton turned +down on to the Embankment to walk up to the Westminster underground to +take him home. He was a great man on physical exercise, and it was a +matter of principle with him to live far from his work. As he came +down the little passage he found his friend waiting for him, and +together they turned up towards where in the distance the Westminster +towers rose high and blue against the evening sky.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said the old man.</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton looked at him with a humorous eye.</p> + +<p>"You are a hopeless case," he said.</p> + +<p>"Kindly tell me what you noticed."</p> + +<p>"My dear man," he said, "there's absolutely nothing to say. I did +exactly what you said: I hardly spoke to him at all: I watched him +very carefully indeed. I really can't go on doing that day after day. +I've got my own work to do. It's the most utter bunkum I ever—"</p> + +<p>"Tell me anything odd that you saw."</p> + +<p>"There was nothing odd at all, except that the boy looked tired, as +you saw for yourself this morning."</p> + +<p>"Did he behave exactly as usual?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly, except that he was quieter. He fidgeted a little with his +fingers."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"And he seemed very hard at work. I caught him looking at me once or +twice."</p> + +<p>"Yes? How did he look?"</p> + +<p>"He just looked at me—that was all. Good Lord! what do you want—"</p> + +<p>"And there was nothing else—absolutely nothing else?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely nothing else."</p> + +<p>"He didn't complain of ... of anything?"</p> + +<p>"Lord...! Oh, yes; he did say something about a headache."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" The old man leaned forward. "A headache? What kind?"</p> + +<p>"Back of his head."</p> + +<p>The old man sat back with pursed lips.</p> + +<p>"Did he talk about last night?" he went on again suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Not a word."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton burst into a rude uproarious laugh.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word!" he said. "I think, Cathcart, you're the most +amazingly—"</p> + +<p>The other held up a gloved hand in deprecation; but he did not seem at +all ruffled.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; we can take all that as said.... I'm accustomed to it, my +dear fellow. Well, I saw Miss Deronnais, as I told you I should in my +note.... You're quite right about her."</p> + +<p>"Pleased to hear it, I'm sure," said Mr. Morton solemnly.</p> + +<p>"She's one in a thousand. I told her right out, you know, that I +feared insanity."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you did! That's tactful! How did she—"</p> + +<p>"She took it admirably."</p> + +<p>"And did you tell her your delightful theories?"</p> + +<p>"I did not. She will see all that for herself, I expect. Meantime—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you didn't tell me about your interview with Lady Laura."</p> + +<p>The old face grew a little grim.</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's not finished yet," he said. "I'm on my way to her now. I +don't think she'll play with the thing again just yet."</p> + +<p>"And the others—the medium, and so on?"</p> + +<p>"They will have to take their chance. It's absolutely useless going to +them."</p> + +<p>"They're as bad as I am, I expect."</p> + +<p>The old man turned a sharp face to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh! you know nothing whatever about it," he said. "You don't +count. But they do know quite enough."</p> + +<p>In the underground the two talked no more; but Mr. Morton, affecting +to read his paper, glanced up once or twice at the old shrewd face +opposite that stared so steadily out of the window into the roaring +darkness. And once more he reflected how astonishing it was that +anyone in these days—anyone, at least, possessing common sense—and +common sense was written all over that old bearded face—could believe +such fantastic rubbish as that which had been lately discussed. It +was not only the particular points that regarded Laurie Baxter—all +these absurd, though disquieting hints about insanity and suicide and +the rest of it—but the principles that old Cathcart declared to be +beneath—those principles which he had, apparently, not confided to +Miss Deronnais. Here was the twentieth century; here was an electric +railway, padded seats, and the <i>Pall Mall</i>...! Was further comment +required?</p> + +<p>The train began to slow up at Gloucester Road; and old Cathcart +gathered up his umbrella and gloves.</p> + +<p>"Then tomorrow," he said, "at the same time?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton made a resigned gesture.</p> + +<p>"But why don't you go and have it out with him yourself?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"He would not listen to me—less than ever now. Good night!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The train slid on again into the darkness; and the lawyer sat for a +moment with pursed lips. Yes, of course the boy was overwrought: +anyone could see that: he had stammered a little—a sure sign. But why +make all this fuss? A week in the country would set him right.</p> + +<p>Then he opened the <i>Pall Mall</i> again resolutely.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XV" id="Chapter_XV" /><i>Chapter XV</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Nugent were enjoying their holiday exceedingly. On Good +Friday they had driven laboriously in a waggonette to Royston, where +they had visited the hermit's cave in company with other grandees of +their village, and held a stately picnic on the downs. They had +returned, the gentlemen of the party slightly flushed with brandy and +water from the various hostelries on the home journey, and the ladies +severe, with watercress on their laps. Accordingly, on the Saturday, +Mrs. Nugent had thought it better to stay indoors and dispatch her +husband to the scene of the first cricket match of the season, a +couple of miles away.</p> + +<p>At about five o'clock she made herself a cup of tea, and did not wake +up from the sleep which followed until the evening was closing in. She +awoke with a start, remembering that she had intended to give a good +look between the spare bedroom that had been her daughter's, and +possibly make a change or two of the furniture. There was a mahogany +wardrobe ... and so forth.</p> + +<p>She had not entered this room very often since the death. It had come +to resemble to her mind a sort of melancholy sanctuary, symbolical of +glories that might have been; for she and her husband were full of the +glorious day that had begun to dawn when Laurie, very constrained +though very ardent, had called upon them in state to disclose his +intentions. Well, it had been a false dawn; but at least it could be, +and was, still talked about in sad and suggestive whispers.</p> + +<p>It seemed full then of a mysterious splendor when she entered it this +evening, candle in hand, and stood regarding it from the threshold. To +the outward eye it was nothing very startling. A shrouded bed +protruded from the wall opposite with the words "The Lord preserve +thee from all evil" illuminated in pink and gold by the girl's own +hand. An oleograph of Queen Victoria in coronation robes hung on one +side and the painted photograph of a Nonconformist divine, Bible in +hand, whiskered and cravatted, upon the other. There was a small +cloth-covered table at the foot of the bed, adorned with an almost +continuous line of brass-headed nails as a kind of beading round the +edge, in the center of which rested the plaster image of a young +person clasping a cross. A hymn-book and a Bible stood before this, +and a small jar of wilted flowers. Against the opposite wall, flanked +by dejected-looking wedding-groups, and another text or two, stood the +great mahogany wardrobe, whose removal was vaguely in contemplation.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Nugent regarded the whole with a tender kind of severity, shaking +her head slowly from side to side, with the tin candlestick slightly +tilted. She was a full-bodied lady, in clothes rather too tight for +her, and she panted a little after the ascent of the stairs. It seemed +to her once more a strangely and inexplicably perverse act of +Providence, to whom she had always paid deference, by which so +incalculable a rise in the social scale had been denied to her.</p> + +<p>Then she advanced a step, her eyes straying from the shrouded bed to +the wardrobe and back again. Then she set the candlestick upon the +table and turned round.</p> + +<p>It must now be premised that Mrs. Nugent was utterly without a trace +of what is known as superstition; for the whole evidential value of +what follows, such as it is, depends upon that fact. She would not, by +preference, sleep in a room immediately after a death had taken place +in it, but solely for the reason of certain ill-defined physical +theories which she would have summed up under the expression that "it +was but right that the air should be changed." Her views on human +nature and its component parts were undoubtedly practical and +common-sense. To put it brutally, Amy's body was in the churchyard and +Amy's soul, crowned and robed, in heaven; so there was no more to +account for. She knew nothing of modern theories, nothing of the +revival of ancient beliefs; she would have regarded with kindly +compassion, and met with practical comments, that unwilling shrinking +from scenes of death occasionally manifested by certain kind of +temperaments.</p> + +<p>She turned, then, and looked at the wardrobe, still full of Amy's +belongings, with her back to the bed in which Amy had died, without +even the faintest premonitory symptom of the unreasoning terror that +presently seized upon her.</p> + +<p>It came about in this way.</p> + +<p>She kneeled down, after a careful scrutiny of the polished surface of +the mahogany, pulled out a drawer filled to brimming over with linen +of various kinds and uses, and began to dive among these with careful +housewifely hands to discover their tale. Simultaneously, as she +remembered afterwards, there came from the hill leading down from the +direction of the station, the sound of a trotting horse.</p> + +<p>She paused to listen, her mind full of that faint gossipy surmise that +surges so quickly up in the thoughts of village dwellers, her hands +for an instant motionless among the linen. It might be the doctor, or +Mr. Paton, or Mr. Grove. Those names flashed upon her; but an instant +later were drowned again in a kind of fear of which she could give +afterwards no account.</p> + +<p>It seemed to her, she said, that there was something coming towards +her that set her a-tremble; and when, a moment later, the trotting +hoofs rang out sharp and near, she positively relapsed into a kind of +sitting position on the floor, helpless and paralyzed by a furious +up-rush of terror.</p> + +<p>For it appeared, so far as Mrs. Nugent could afterwards make it out, +as if a sort of double process went on. It was not merely that Fear, +full-armed, rushed upon with the approaching wheels, outside and +therefore harmless; but that the room itself in which she crouched, +itself filled with some atmosphere, swift as water in a rising lock, +that held her there motionless, blind and dumb with horror, unable to +move, even to lift her hands or turn her head. As one approached, the +other rose.</p> + +<p>Again sounded the hoofs and wheels, near now and imminent. Again they +hushed as the corner was approached. Then once more, as they broke +out, clear and distinct, not twenty yards away at the turning into the +village, Mrs. Nugent, no longer able even to keep that rigid position +of fear, sank gently backwards and relapsed in a huddle on the floor.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>Mr. Nugent was astonished and even a little peevish when, on arriving +home after dark, he found the parlor lamp a-smoke and his wife absent.</p> + +<p>He inquired for her; the mistress had slipped upstairs scarcely ten +minutes ago. He shouted at the bottom of the stairs, but there was no +response. And after he had taken his boots off, and his desire for +supper had become poignant, he himself stepped upstairs to see into +the matter....</p> + +<p>It was several minutes, even after the conveyal of an apparently +inanimate body downstairs, before his wife first made clear signs of +intelligence; and even these were little more than grotesque +expressions of fear—rolling eyes and exclamations. It was another +quarter of an hour before any kind of connected story could be got out +of her. One conclusion only was evident, that Mrs. Nugent did not +propose to fetch the forgotten candle still burning on the +cloth-covered, brass-nailed table, but that it must be fetched +instantly; the door locked on the outside, and the key laid before her +on that tablecloth. These were the terms that must be conceded before +any further details were gone into.</p> + +<p>Plainly there was but one person to carry out these instructions, for +the little servant-maid was already all eyes and mouth at the few +pregnant sentences that had fallen from her mistress's lips. So +Mr. Nugent himself, cloth cap and all, stepped upstairs once more.</p> + +<p>He paused at the door and looked in.</p> + +<p>All was entirely as usual. In spite of the unpleasant expectancy +roused, in spite of himself and his godliness, by the words of his +wife and her awful head-nodding, the room gave back to him no echo or +lingering scent of horror. The little bed stood there, white and +innocent in the candlelight, the drawer still gaped, showing its +pathetic contents; the furniture, pictures, texts, and all the rest +remained in their places, harmless and undefiled as when Amy herself +had set them there.</p> + +<p>He looked carefully round before entering; then, stepping forward, he +took the candle, closed the drawer, not without difficulty, glanced +round once more, and went out, locking the door behind him.</p> + +<p>"A pack of nonsense!" he said, as he tossed the key on to the table +before his wife.</p> + +<p>The theological discussion waxed late that night, and by ten o'clock +Mrs. Nugent, under the influence of an excellent supper and a touch of +stimulant, had begun to condemn her own terrors, or rather to cease to +protest when her husband condemned them for her. A number of solutions +had been proposed for the startling little incident, to none of which +did she give an unqualified denial. It was the stooping that had done +it; there had been a rush of blood to the head that had emptied the +heart and caused the sinking feeling. It was the watercress eaten in +such abundance on the previous afternoon. It was the fact that she had +passed an unoccupied morning, owing to the closing of the shop. It was +one of those things, or all of them, or some other like one of them. +Even the little maid was reassured, when she came to take away the +supper things, by the cheerful conversation of the couple, though she +registered a private vow that for no consideration under heaven would +she enter the bedroom on the right at the top of the stairs.</p> + +<p>About half-past ten Mrs. Nugent said that she would step up to bed; +and in that direction she went, accompanied by her husband, whose +program it was presently to step round to the "Wheatsheaf" for an hour +with the landlord after the bar was shut up.</p> + +<p>At the door on the right hand he hesitated, but his wife passed on +sternly; and as she passed into their own bedroom a piece of news came +to his mind.</p> + +<p>"That was Mr. Laurie you heard, Mary," said he. "Jim told me he saw +him go past just after dark.... Well, I'll take the house-key with +me."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XVI" id="Chapter_XVI" /><i>Chapter XVI</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>"When is he coming?" asked Mrs. Baxter with a touch of peevishness, as +she sat propped up in her tall chair before the bedroom fire.</p> + +<p>"He will be here about six," said Maggie. "Are you sure you have +finished?"</p> + +<p>The old lady turned away her head from the rice pudding in a kind of +gesture of repulsion. She was in the fractious period of influenza, +and Maggie had had a hard time with her.</p> + +<p>Nothing particular had happened for the last ten days. Mrs. Baxter's +feverish cold had developed, and she was but now emerging from the +nightdress and flannel-jacket stage to that of the petticoat and +dressing-gown. It was all very ordinary and untragic, and Maggie had +had but little time to consider the events on which her subconscious +attention still dwelt. Mr. Cathcart had had no particular news to give +her. Laurie, it seemed, was working silently with his coach, talking +little. Yet the old man did not for one instant withdraw one word that +he had said. Only, in answer to a series of positive inquiries from +the girl two days before, he had told her to wait and see him for +herself, warning her at the same time to show no signs of perturbation +to the boy.</p> + +<p>And now the day was come—Easter Eve, as it happened—and she would +see him before night. He had sent no answer to her first letter; then, +finally, a telegram had come that morning announcing his train.</p> + +<p>She was wondering with all her might that afternoon as to what she +would see. In a way she was terrified; in another way she was +contemptuous. The evidence was so extraordinarily confused. If he were +in danger of insanity, how was it that. Mr. Cathcart advised her to +get him down to a house with only two women and a few maids? Who was +there besides this old gentleman who ever dreamed that such a danger +was possible? How, if it was so obvious that she would see the change +for herself, was it that others—Mr. Morton, for example—had not seen +it too? More than ever the theory gained force in her mind that the +whole thing was grossly exaggerated by this old man, and that all that +was the matter with Laurie was a certain nervous strain.</p> + +<p>Yet, for all that, as the afternoon closed in, she felt her nerves +tightening. She walked a little in the garden while the old lady took +her nap; she came in to read to her again from the vellum-bound little +book as the afternoon light began to fade. Then, after tea, she went +under orders to see for herself whether Laurie's room was as it should +be.</p> + +<p>It struck her with an odd sense of strangeness as she went in; she +scarcely knew why; she told herself it was because of what she had +heard of him lately. But all was as it should be. There were spring +flowers on the table and mantelshelf, and a pleasant fire on the +hearth. It was even reassuring after she had been there a minute or +two.</p> + +<p>Then she went to look at the smoking-room where she had sat with him +and heard the curious noise of the cracking wood on the night of the +thaw, when the boy had behaved so foolishly. Here, too, was a fire, a +tall porter's chair drawn on one side with its back to the door, and a +deep leather couch set opposite. There was a box of Laurie's +cigarettes set ready on the table—candles, matches, flowers, the +illustrated papers—yes, everything.</p> + +<p>But she stood looking on it all for a few moments with an odd emotion. +It was familiar, homely, domestic—yet it was strange. There was an +air of expectation about it all.... Then on a sudden the emotions +precipitated themselves in tenderness.... Ah! poor Laurie....</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"It is all perfectly right," she said to the old lady.</p> + +<p>"Are the cigarettes there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes: I noticed them particularly."</p> + +<p>"And flowers?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, flowers too."</p> + +<p>"What time is it, my dear? I can't see."</p> + +<p>Maggie peered at the clock.</p> + +<p>"It's just after six, Auntie. Will you have the candles?"</p> + +<p>The old lady shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear: my eyes can't stand the light. Why hasn't the boy come?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it's hardly time yet. Shall I bring him up at once?"</p> + +<p>"Just for two minutes," sighed the old lady. "My head's bad again."</p> + +<p>"Poor dear," said Maggie.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, my dearest, for a few minutes. You'll hear the wheels from +here.... No, don't talk or read."</p> + +<p>There, then, the two women sat waiting.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Outside the twilight was falling, layer on layer, over the spring +garden, in a great stillness. The chilly wind of the afternoon had +dropped, and there was scarcely a sound to be heard from the living +things about the house that once more were renewing their strength. +Yet over all, to the Catholic's mind at least, there lay a shadow of +death, from associations with that strange anniversary that was +passing, hour by hour....</p> + +<p>As to what Maggie thought during those minutes of waiting, she could +have given afterwards no coherent description. Matters were too +complicated to think clearly; she knew so little; there were so many +hypotheses. Yet one emotion dominated the rest—expectancy with a +tinge of fear. Here she sat, in this peaceful room, with all the +homely paraphernalia of convalescence about her—the fire, the bed +laid invitingly open with a couple of books, and a reading-lamp on the +little table at the side, the faint smell of sandalwood; and before +the fire dozed a peaceful old lady full too of gentle expectation of +her son, yet knowing nothing whatever of the vague perils that were +about him, that had, indeed, whatever they were, already closed in on +him.... And that son was approaching nearer every instant through the +country lanes....</p> + +<p>She rose at last and went on tiptoe to the window. The curtains had +not yet been drawn, and she could see in the fading light the +elaborate ironwork of the tall gate in the fence, and the common road +outside it, gleaming here and there in puddles that caught the green +color from the dying western sky. In front, on the lawn on this side, +burned tiny patches of white where the crocuses sprouted.</p> + +<p>As she stood there, there came a sound of wheels, and a carriage came +in sight. It drew up at the gate, and the door opened.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>"He is come," said the girl softly, as she saw the tall ulstered +figure appear from the carriage. There was no answer, and as she went +on tiptoe to the fire, she saw that the old lady was asleep. She went +noiselessly out of the room, and stood for an instant, every pulse +racing with horrible excitement, listening to the footsteps and voices +in the hall. Then she drew a long trembling breath, steadied herself +with a huge effort of the will, and went downstairs.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Laurie's gone into the smoking-room, miss," said the servant, +looking at her oddly.</p> + +<p>He was standing by the table as she went in; so much she could see: +but the candles were unlighted, and no more was visible of him than +his outline against the darkening window.</p> + +<p>"Well, Laurie?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Well, Maggie," said his voice in answer. And their hands met.</p> + +<p>Then in an instant she knew that something was wrong. Yet at the +moment she had not an idea as to what it was that told her that. It +was Laurie's voice surely!</p> + +<p>"You're all in the dark," she said.</p> + +<p>There was no movement or word in answer. She passed her hand along the +mantelpiece for the matches she had seen there just before; but her +hand shook so much that some little metal ornament fell with a crash +as she fumbled there, and she drew a long almost vocal breath of +sudden nervous alarm. And still there was no movement in answer. Only +the tall figure stood watching her it seemed—a pale luminous patch +showing her his face.</p> + +<p>Then she found the matches and struck one; and, keeping her face +downcast, lighted, with fingers that shook violently, the two candles +on the little table by the fire. She must just be natural and +ordinary, she kept on telling herself. Then with another fierce effort +of will she began to speak, lifting her eyes to his face as she did +so.</p> + +<p>"Auntie's just fallen..." (her voice died suddenly for an instant, as +she saw him looking at her)—then she finished—"just fallen asleep. +Will ... you come up presently ... Laurie?"</p> + +<p>Every word was an effort, as she looked steadily into the eyes that +looked so steadily into hers.</p> + +<p>It was Laurie—yes—but, good God...!</p> + +<p>"You must just kiss her and come away," she said, driving out the +words with effort after effort. "She has a bad headache this +evening.... Laurie—a bad headache."</p> + +<p>With a sudden twitch she turned away from those eyes.</p> + +<p>"Come, Laurie," she said. And she heard his steps following her.</p> + +<p>They passed so through the inner hall and upstairs: and, without +turning again, holding herself steady only by the consciousness that +some appalling catastrophe was imminent if she did not, she opened the +door of the old lady's room.</p> + +<p>"Here he is," she said. "Now, Laurie, just kiss her and come away."</p> + +<p>"My dearest," came the old voice from the gloom, and two hands were +lifted.</p> + +<p>Maggie watched, as the tall figure came obediently forward, in an +indescribable terror. It was as when one watches a man in a tiger's +den.... But the figure bent obediently, and kissed.</p> + +<p>Maggie instantly stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Not a word," she said. "Auntie's got a headache. Yes, Auntie, he's +very well; you'll see him in the morning. Go out at once, please, +Laurie."</p> + +<p>Without a word he passed out, and, as she closed the door after him, +she heard him stop irresolute on the landing.</p> + +<p>"My dearest child," came the peevish old voice, "you might have +allowed my own son—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Auntie, you really mustn't. I know how bad your head +is ... yes, yes; he's very well. You'll see him in the morning."</p> + +<p>And all the while she was conscious of the figure that must be faced +again presently, waiting on the landing.</p> + +<p>"Shall I go and see that everything's all right in his room?" she +said. "Perhaps they've forgotten—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dearest, go and see. And send Charlotte to me."</p> + +<p>The old voice was growing drowsy again.</p> + +<p>Maggie went out swiftly without a word. There again stood the figure +waiting. The landing lamp had been forgotten. She led the way to his +room.</p> + +<p>"Come, Laurie," she said. "I'll just see that everything's all right."</p> + +<p>She found the matches again, lighted the candles, and set them on his +table, still without a look at that face that turned always as she +went.</p> + +<p>"We shall have to dine alone," she said, striving to make her voice +natural, as she reached the door.</p> + +<p>Then once more she raised her eyes to his, and looked him bravely in +the face as he stood by the fire.</p> + +<p>"Do just as you like about dressing," she said. "I expect you're +tired."</p> + +<p>She could bear it no more. She went out without another word, passed +steadily across the length of the landing to her own room, locked the +door, and threw herself on her knees.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>She was roused by a tap on the door—how much later she did not +know. But the agony was passed for the present—the repulsion and the +horror of what she had seen. Perhaps it was that she did not yet +understand the whole truth. But at least her will was dominant; she +was as a man who has fought with fear alone, and walks, white and +trembling, yet perfectly himself, to the operating table.</p> + +<p>She opened the door; and Susan stood there with a candle in one hand +and a scrap of white in the other.</p> + +<p>"For you, miss," said the maid.</p> + +<p>Maggie took it without a word, and read the name and the penciled +message twice.</p> + +<p>"Just light the lamp out here," she said. "Oh ... and, by the way, +send Charlotte to Mrs. Baxter at once."</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss..."</p> + +<p>The maid still paused, eyeing her, as if with an unspoken +question. There was terror too in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Laurie is not very well," said Maggie steadily. "Please take no +notice of anything. And ... and, Susan, I think I shall dine alone +this evening, just a tray up here will do. If Mr. Laurie says +anything, just explain that I am looking after Mrs. Baxter. And.... +Susan—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss."</p> + +<p>"Please see that Mrs. Baxter is not told that I am not dining +downstairs."</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss."</p> + +<p>Maggie still stood an instant, hesitating. Then a thought recurred +again.</p> + +<p>"One moment," she said.</p> + +<p>She stepped across the room to her writing-table, beckoning the maid +to come inside and shut the door; then she wrote rapidly for a minute +or so, enclosed her note, directed it, and gave it to the girl.</p> + +<p>"Just send up someone at once, will you, with this to Father Mahon—on +a bicycle."</p> + +<p>When the maid was gone, she waited still for an instant looking across +the dark landing, expectant of some sound or movement. But all was +still. A line of light showed only under the door where the boy who +was called Laurie Baxter stood or sat. At least he was not moving +about. There in the darkness Maggie tested her power of resisting +panic. Panic was the one fatal thing: so much she understood. Even if +that silent door had opened, she knew she could stand there still.</p> + +<p>She went back, took a wrap from the chair where she had tossed it down +on coming in from the garden that afternoon, threw it over her head +and shoulders, passed down the stairs and out through the garden once +more in the darkness of the spring evening.</p> + +<p>All was quiet in the tiny hamlet as she went along the road. A blaze +of light shone from the tap-room window where the fathers of families +were talking together, and within Mr. Nugent's shuttered shop she +could see through the doorway the grocer himself in his shirt-sleeves, +shifting something on the counter. So great was the tension to which +she had strung herself that she did not even envy the ordinariness of +these people: they appeared to be in some other world, not attainable +by herself. These were busied with domestic affairs, with beer or +cheese or gossip. Her task was of another kind: so much she knew; and +as to what that task was, she was about to learn.</p> + +<p>As she turned the corner, the figure she expected was waiting there; +and she could see in the deep twilight that he lifted his hat to +her. She went straight up to him.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I have seen for myself. You are right so far. Now +tell me what to do."</p> + +<p>It was no time for conventionality. She did not ask why the solicitor +was there. It was enough that he had come.</p> + +<p>"Walk this way then with me," he said. "Now tell me what you have +seen."</p> + +<p>"I have seen a change I cannot describe at all. It's just someone +else—not Laurie at all. I don't understand it in the least. But I +just want to know what to do. I have written to Father Mahon to come."</p> + +<p>He was silent for a step or two.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you what to do. I must leave that to yourself. I can +only tell you what not to do."</p> + +<p>"Very well."</p> + +<p>"Miss Deronnais, you are magnificent...! There, it is said. Now then. +You must not get excited or frightened whatever happens. I do not +believe that you are in any danger—not of the ordinary kind, I mean. +But if you want me, I shall be at the inn. I have taken rooms there +for a night or so. And you must not yield to him interiorly. I wonder +if you understand."</p> + +<p>"I think I shall understand soon. At present I understand nothing. I +have said I cannot dine with him."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"I cannot ... before the servants. One of them at least suspects +something. But I will sit with him afterwards, if that is right."</p> + +<p>"Very good. You must be with him as much as you can. Remember, it is +not the worst yet. It is to prevent that worst happening that you must +use all the power you've got."</p> + +<p>"Am I to speak to him straight out? And what shall I tell Father +Mahon?"</p> + +<p>"You must use your judgment. Your object is to fight on his side, +remember, against this thing that is obsessing him. Miss Deronnais, I +must give you another warning."</p> + +<p>She bowed. She did not wish to use more words than were necessary. +The strain was frightful.</p> + +<p>"It is this: whatever you may see—little tricks of speech or +movement—you must not for one instant yield to the thought that the +creature that is obsessing him is what he thinks it is. Remember the +thing is wholly evil, wholly evil; but it may, perhaps, do its utmost +to hide that, and to keep up the illusion. It is intelligent, but not +brilliant; it has the intelligence only of some venomous brute in the +slime. Or it may try to frighten you. You must not be frightened."</p> + +<p>She understood hints here and there of what the old man said—enough, +at any rate, to act.</p> + +<p>"And you must keep up to the utmost pitch your sympathy with <i>him</i> +himself. You must remember that he is somewhere there, underneath, in +chains; and that, probably, he is struggling too, and needs you. It is +not Possession yet: he is still partly conscious.... Did he know you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he just knew me. He was puzzled, I think."</p> + +<p>"Has he seen anyone else he knows?"</p> + +<p>"His mother ... yes. He just knew her too. He did not speak to her. I +would not let him."</p> + +<p>"Miss Deronnais, you have acted admirably.... What is he doing now?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I left him in his room. He was quite quiet."</p> + +<p>"You must go back directly.... Shall we turn? I don't think there's +much more to say just now."</p> + +<p>Then she noticed that he had said nothing about the priest.</p> + +<p>"And what about Father Mahon?" she said.</p> + +<p>The old man was silent a moment.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she said again.</p> + +<p>"Miss Deronnais, I wouldn't rely on Father Mahon. I've hardly ever met +a priest who takes these things seriously. In theory—yes, of course; +but not in concrete instances. However, Father Mahon may be an +exception. And the worst of it is that the priesthood has enormous +power, if they only knew it."</p> + +<p>The tinkle of a bicycle bell sounded down the road behind them. +Maggie wheeled on the instant, and caught the profile she was +expecting.</p> + +<p>"Is that you?" she said, as the rider passed.</p> + +<p>The man jumped off, touched his hat, and handed her a note. She tore +it open, and glanced through it in the light of the bicycle lamp. Then +she crumpled it up and threw it into the ditch with a quick, impatient +movement.</p> + +<p>"All right," she said. "Good night."</p> + +<p>The gardener mounted his bicycle again and moved off.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said the old man.</p> + +<p>"Father Mahon's called away suddenly. It's from his housekeeper. +He'll only be back in time for the first mass tomorrow."</p> + +<p>The other nodded, three or four times, as if in assent.</p> + +<p>"Why do you do that?" asked the girl suddenly.</p> + +<p>"It is what I should have expected to happen."</p> + +<p>"What! Father Mahon?—Do you mean it ... it is arranged?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing. It may be coincidence. Speak no more of it. You have +the facts to think of."</p> + +<p>About them as they walked back in silence lay the quiet spring night. +From the direction of the hamlet came the banging of a door, then +voices wishing good night, and the sound of footsteps. The steps +passed the end of the lane and died away again. Over the trees to the +right were visible the high twisted chimney of the old house where the +terror dwelt.</p> + +<p>"Two points then to remember," said the voice in the +darkness—"Courage and Love. Can you remember?"</p> + +<p>Maggie bowed her head again in answer.</p> + +<p>"I will call and ask to see you as soon as the household is up. If you +can't see me, I shall understand that things are going well—or you +can send out a note to me. As for Mrs. Baxter—"</p> + +<p>"I shall not say one word to her until it becomes absolutely +necessary. And if—"</p> + +<p>"If it becomes necessary I will wire for a doctor from town. I will +undertake all the preliminary arrangements, if you will allow me."</p> + +<p>Ten steps before the corner they stopped.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, Miss Deronnais. Remember, I am at the inn if you need +me."</p> + + +<h2>IV</h2> + +<p>Mrs. Baxter dined placidly in bed at about half-past seven; but she +was more sleepy than ever when she had done. She was rash enough to +drink a little claret and water.</p> + +<p>"It always goes straight to my head, Charlotte," she explained. "Well, +set the book—no, not that one—the one bound in white parchment.... +Yes, just so, down here; and turn the reading lamp so that I can read +if I want to.... Oh! ask Miss Maggie to tap at my door very softly +when she comes out from dinner. Has she gone down yet?"</p> + +<p>"I think I heard her step just now, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Very well; then you can just tell Susan to let her know. How was +Mr. Laurie looking, Charlotte?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't seen him, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Then that is all, Charlotte. You can just look in here +after Miss Maggie and settle me for the night."</p> + +<p>Then the door closed, and Mrs. Baxter instantly began to doze off.</p> + +<p>She was one of those persons whose moments between sleeping and +waking, especially during a little attack of feverishness, are +occupied in contemplating a number of little vivid pictures of all +kinds that present themselves to the mental vision; and she saw as +usual a quantity of these, made up of tiny details of the day that was +gone, and of other details markedly unconnected with it. She saw for +example little scenes in which Maggie and Charlotte and medicine +bottles and Chinese faces and printed pages of a book all moved +together in a sort of convincing incoherence; and she was just +beginning to lose herself in the depths of sleep, and to forget her +firm resolution of reading another page or so of the book by her side, +when a little sound came, and she opened, as she thought, her eyes.</p> + +<p>Her reading lamp cast a funnel of light across her bed, and the rest +of the room was lit only by the fire dancing in the chimney. Yet this +was bright enough, she thought at the time, to show her perfectly +distinctly, though with shadows fleeting across it, her son's face +peering in at the door. She thought she said something; but she was +not sure afterwards. At any rate, the face did not move; and it seemed +to her that it bore an expression of such extraordinary malignity that +she would hardly have known it for her son's. In a sudden panic she +raised herself in bed, staring; and as the shadows came and went, as +she stared, the face was gone again. Mrs. Baxter drew a quick breath +or two as she looked; but there was nothing. Yet again she could have +sworn that she heard the faint jar of the closing door.</p> + +<p>She reached out and put her hand on the bell-string that hung down +over her bed. Then she hesitated. It was too ridiculous, she told +herself. Besides, Charlotte would have gone to her room.</p> + +<p>But the fear did not go immediately; though she told herself again and +again that it was just one of those little waking visions that she +knew so well.</p> + +<p>She lay back on the pillow, thinking.... Why, they would have reached +the fish by now. No; she would tell Maggie when she came up. How +Laurie would laugh tomorrow! Then, little by little, she dozed off +once more.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The next thing of which she was aware was Maggie bending over her.</p> + +<p>"Asleep, Auntie dear?" said the girl softly.</p> + +<p>The old lady murmured something. Then she sat up, suddenly.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear. Have you finished dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Auntie."</p> + +<p>"Where's Laurie? I should like to see him for a minute."</p> + +<p>"Not tonight, Auntie; you're too tired. Besides, I think he's gone to +the smoking-room."</p> + +<p>She acquiesced placidly.</p> + +<p>"Very well, dearest.... Oh! Maggie, such a queer thing happened just +now—when you were at dinner."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"I thought I saw Laurie look in, just for an instant. But he looked +awful, somehow. It was just one of my little waking visions I've told +you of, I suppose."</p> + +<p>The girl was silent; but the old lady saw her suddenly straighten +herself.</p> + +<p>"Just ask him whether he did look in, after all. It may just have been +the shadow on his face."</p> + +<p>"What time was it?"</p> + +<p>"About ten past eight, I suppose, dearest. You'll ask him, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Auntie.... I think I'd better lock your door when I go out. You +won't fancy such things then, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Very well, dearest. As you think best."</p> + +<p>The old voice was becoming sleepy again: and Maggie stood watching a +moment or two longer.</p> + +<p>"Send Charlotte to me, dearest.... Good night, my pet.... I'm too +sleepy again. My love to Laurie."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Auntie."</p> + +<p>The old lady felt the girl's warm lips on her forehead. They seemed to +linger a little. Then Mrs. Baxter lost herself once more.</p> + + +<h2>IV</h2> + +<p>The public bar of the Wheatsheaf Inn was the scene this evening of a +lively discussion. Some thought the old gentleman, arrived that day +from London, to be a new kind of commercial traveler, with designs +upon the gardens of the gentry; others that he was a sort of +scientific collector; others, again, that he was a private detective; +and since there was no evidence at all, good or bad, in support of any +one of these suggestions, a very pretty debate became possible.</p> + +<p>A silence fell when his step was heard to pass down the stairs and out +into the street, and another half an hour later when he returned. Then +once more the discussion began.</p> + +<p>At ten o'clock the majority of the men moved out into the moonlight to +disperse homewards, as the landlord began to put away the glasses and +glance at the clock. Overhead the lighted blind showed where the +mysterious stranger still kept vigil; and over the way, beyond the +still leafless trees, towered up the twisted chimneys of Mrs. Baxter's +house. No word had been spoken connecting the two, yet one or two of +the men glanced across the way in vague surmise.</p> + +<p>Nearly a couple of hours later the landlord himself came to the door +to give the great Mr. Nugent himself, with whom he had been sitting in +the inner parlor, a last good-night, and he too noticed that the +bedroom window was still lighted up. He jerked his finger in the +direction of it.</p> + +<p>"A late old party," he said in an undertone.</p> + +<p>Mr. Nugent nodded. He was still a little flushed with whisky and with +his previous recountings of what would have happened if his poor +daughter had lived to marry the young squire, of his (Mr. Nugent's) +swift social advancement and its outward evidences, and of the +hobnobbing with the gentry that would have taken place. He looked +reflectively across at the silhouette of the big house, all grey and +silver in the full moon. The landlord followed the direction of his +eyes; and for some reason unknown to them both, the two stood there +silent for a full half-minute. Yet there was nothing exceptional to be +seen.</p> + +<p>Immediately before them, across the road, rose the high oak paling +that enclosed the lawn on this side, and the immense limes that +towered, untrimmed and undipped, in delicate soaring filigree against +the peacock sky of night. Behind them showed the chimneys, above the +dusky front of red-brick and the parapet. The moon was not yet full +upon the house, and the windows glimmered only here and there, in +lines and sudden patches where they caught the reflected light.</p> + +<p>Yet the two looked at it in silence. They had seen such a sight fifty +times before, for the landlord and the other at least twice a week +spent such an evening together, and usually parted at the door. But +they stood here on this evening and looked.</p> + +<p>All was as still as a spring night can be. Unseen and unheard the life +of the earth streamed upwards in twig and blade and leaf, pushing on +to the miracle of the prophet Jonas, to be revealed in wealth of color +and scent and sound a fortnight later. The wind had fallen; the last +doors were shut, and the two figures standing here were as still as +all else. To neither of them occurred even the thinnest shadow of a +suspicion as to the cause that held them here—two plain men—in +silence, staring at an old house—not a thought of any hidden life +beyond that of matter, that life by which most men reckon existence. +For them this was but one more night such as they had known for half a +century. There was a moon. It was fine. That was Mrs. Baxter's house. +This was the village street:—that was the sum of the situation....</p> + +<p>Mr. Nugent moved off presently with a brisk air, bidding his friend +good night, and the landlord, after another look, went in. There came +the sound of bolts and bars, the light in the window of the parlor +beside the bar suddenly went out, footsteps creaked upstairs; a door +shut, and all was silence.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later a shadow moved across the blind upstairs: an arm +appeared to elongate itself; then, up went the blind, the window +followed it, and a bearded face looked out into the moonlight. Behind +was the table littered with papers, for Mr. Cathcart, laborious even +in the midst of anxiety, had brought down with him for the Sunday a +quantity of business that could not easily wait; and had sat there +patiently docketing, correcting, and writing ever since his interview +in the lane nearly five hours before.</p> + +<p>Even now his face seemed serene enough; it jerked softly this way and +that, up the street and down again; then once more settled down to +stare across the road at the grey and silver pile beyond the trees. +Yet even he saw nothing there beyond what the landlord had seen. It +stood there, uncrossed by lights or footsteps or sounds, keeping its +secret well, even from him who knew what it contained.</p> + +<p>Yet to the watcher the place was as sinister as a prison. Behind the +solemn walls and the superficial flash of the windows, beneath the +silence and the serenity, lay a life more terrible than death, engaged +now in some drama of which he could not guess the issue. A conflict +was proceeding there, more silent than the silence itself. Two souls +fought for one against a foe of unknown strength and unguessed +possibilities. The servants slept apart, and the old mistress apart, +yet in one of those rooms (and he did not know which) a battle was +locked of which the issue was more stupendous than that of any +struggle with disease. Yet he could do nothing to help, except what he +already did, with his fingers twisting and gripping a string of beads +beneath the window-sill. Such a battle as this must be fought by +picked champions; and since the priesthood in this instance could not +help, a girl's courage and love must take its place.</p> + +<p>From the village above the hill came the stroke of a single bell; a +bird in the garden-walk beyond the paling chirped softly to his mate; +then once more silence came down upon the moonlit street, the striped +shadows, the tall house and trees, and the bearded face watching at +the window.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XVII" id="Chapter_XVII" /><i>Chapter XVII</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>The little inner hall looked very quiet and familiar as Maggie +Deronnais stood on the landing, passing through her last struggle with +herself before the shock of battle. The stairs went straight down, +with the old carpet, up and down which she had gone a thousand times, +with every faint patch and line where it was a little worn at the +edges, visible in the lamplight from overhead; and she stared at +these, standing there silent in her white dress, bare-armed and +bare-necked, with her hair in great coils on her head, as upright as a +lance. Beneath lay the little hall, with the tiger-skin, the +red-papered walls, and a few miscellaneous things—an old cloak of +hers she used on rainy days in the garden, a straw hat of Laurie's, +and a cap or two, hanging on the pegs opposite. In front was the door +to the outer hall, to the left, that of the smoking-room. The house +was perfectly quiet. Dinner had been cleared away already through the +hatch into the kitchen passage, and the servants' quarters were on the +other side of the house. No sound of any kind came from the +smoking-room; not even the faint whiff of tobacco-smoke that had a way +of stealing out when Laurie was smoking really seriously within.</p> + +<p>She did not know why, she had stopped there, half-way down the stairs.</p> + +<p>She had dined from a tray in her own room, as she had said; and had +been there alone ever since, for the most part at her <i>prie-Dieu</i>, in +dead silence, conscious of nothing connected, listening to the +occasional tread of a maid in the hall beneath, passing to and from +the dining-room. There she had tried to face the ordeal that was +coming—the ordeal, at the nature of which even now she only half +guessed, and she had realized nothing, formed no plan, considered no +eventuality. Things were so wholly out of her experience that she had +no process whereby to deal with them. Just two words came over and +over again before her consciousness—Courage and Love.</p> + +<p>She looked again at the door.</p> + +<p>Laurie was there, she said. Then she questioned herself. Was it +Laurie...?</p> + +<p>"He is there, underneath," she whispered to herself softly; "he is +waiting for me to help him." She remembered that she must make that +act of faith. Yet was it Laurie who had looked in at his mother's +door...? Well, the door was locked now. But that secretive visit +seemed to her terrible.</p> + +<p>What, then, did she believe?</p> + +<p>She had put that question to herself fifty times, and found no answer. +The old man's solution was clear enough now: he believed no less than +that out of that infinitely mysterious void that lies beyond the veils +of sense there had come a Personality, strong, malignant, degraded, +and seeking to degrade, seizing upon this lad's soul, in the disguise +of a dead girl, and desiring to possess it. How fantastic that +sounded! Did she believe it? She did not know. Then there was the +solution of a nervous strain, rising to a climax of insanity. This was +the answer of the average doctor. Did she believe that? Was that +enough to account for the look in the boy's eyes? She did not know.</p> + +<p>She understood perfectly that the fact of herself living under +conditions of matter made the second solution the more natural; yet +that did not content her. For her religion informed her emphatically +that discarnate Personalities existed which desired the ruin of human +souls, and, indeed, forbade the practices of spiritualism for this +very reason. Yet there was hardly a Catholic she knew who regarded the +possibility in these days as more than a theoretical one. So she +hesitated, holding her judgment in suspense. One thing only she saw +clearly, and that was that she must act as if she believed the former +solution: she must treat the boy as one obsessed, whether indeed he +were so or not. There was no other manner in which she could +concentrate her force upon the heart of the struggle. If there were no +evil Personality in the affair, it was necessary to assume one.</p> + +<p>And still she waited.</p> + +<p>There came back to her an old childish memory.</p> + +<p>Once, as a child of ten, she had had to undergo a small operation. One +of the nuns had taken her to the doctor's house. When she had +understood that she must come into the next room and have it done, she +had stopped dead. The nun had encouraged her.</p> + +<p>"Leave me quite alone, please, Mother, just for one minute. Please +don't speak. I'll come in a minute."</p> + +<p>After a minute's waiting, while they looked at her, she had gone +forward, sat down in the chair and behaved quite perfectly. Yes; she +understood that now. It was necessary first to collect forces, to +concentrate energies, to subdue the imagination: after that almost +anything could be borne.</p> + +<p>So she stood here now, without even the thought of flight, not +arguing, not reassuring herself, not analyzing anything; but just +gathering strength, screwing the will tight, facing things.</p> + +<p>And there was yet another psychological fact that astonished her, +though she was only conscious of it in a parenthetical kind of way, +and that was the strength of her feeling for Laurie himself. It seemed +to her curious, when she considered it, how the horror of that which +lay over the boy seemed, like death itself, to throw out as on a clear +background the best of himself. His figure appeared to her memory as +wholly good and sweet; the shadows on his character seemed absorbed in +the darkness that lay over him; and towards this figure she +experienced a sense of protective love and energy that astonished +her. She desired with all her power to seize and rescue him.</p> + +<p>Then she drew a long steady breath, thrust out her strong white hand +to see if the fingers trembled; went down the stairs, and, without +knocking, opened the smoking-room door and went straight in, closing +it behind her. There was a screen to be passed round.</p> + +<p>She passed round it.</p> + +<p>And he sat there on the couch looking at her.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>For the first instant she remained there standing motionless; it was +like a declaration of war. In one or two of her fragmentary rehearsals +upstairs she had supposed she would say something conventional to +begin with. But the reality struck conventionality clean out of the +realm of the possible. Her silent pause there was as significant as +the crouch of a hound; and she perceived that it was recognized to be +so by the other that was there. There was in him that quick, silent +alertness she had expected: half defiant, half timid, as of a fierce +beast that expects a blow.</p> + +<p>Then she came a step forward and sideways to a chair, sat down in it +with a swift, almost menacing motion, and remained there still +looking.</p> + +<p>This is what she saw:</p> + +<p>There was the familiar background, the dark paneled wall, the +engraving, and the shelf of books convenient to the hand; the fire was +on her right, and the couch opposite. Upon the couch sat the figure of +the boy she knew so well.</p> + +<p>He was in the same suit in which he had traveled; he had not even +changed his shoes; they were splashed a little with London mud. These +things she noticed in the minutes that followed, though she kept her +eyes upon his face.</p> + +<p>The face itself was beyond her power of analysis. Line for line it was +Laurie's features, mouth, eyes and hair; yet its signification was not +Laurie's. One that was akin looked at her from out of those windows of +the soul—scrutinized her cautiously, questioningly, and suspiciously. +It was the face of an enemy who waits. And she sat and looked at it.</p> + +<p>A full minute must have passed before she spoke. The face had dropped +its eyes after the first long look, as if in a kind of relaxation, and +remained motionless, staring at the fire in a sort of dejection. Yet +beneath, she perceived plainly, there was the same alert hostility; +and when she spoke the eyes rose again with a quick furtive +attentiveness. The semi-intelligent beast was soothed, but not yet +reassured.</p> + +<p>"Laurie?" she said.</p> + +<p>The lips moved a little in answer; then again the face glanced down +sideways at the fire; the hands dangled almost helplessly between the +knees.</p> + +<p>There was an appearance of weakness about the attitude that astonished +and encouraged her; it appeared as if matters were not yet +consummated. Yet she had a sense of nausea at the sight....</p> + +<p>"Laurie?" she said again suddenly.</p> + +<p>Again the lips moved as if speaking rapidly, and the eyes looked up at +her quick and suspicious.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said the mouth; and still the hands dangled.</p> + +<p>"Laurie," she said steadily, bending all her will at the words, +"you're very unwell. Do you understand that?"</p> + +<p>Again the noiseless gabbling of the lips, and again a little +commonplace sentence, "I'm all right."</p> + +<p>His voice was unnatural—a little hoarse, and quite toneless. It was +as a voice from behind a mask.</p> + +<p>"No," said Maggie carefully, "you're not all right. Listen, Laurie. I +tell you you're all wrong; and I've come to help you as well as I can. +Will you do your best? I'm speaking to <i>you</i>, Laurie ... to <i>you</i>."</p> + +<p>Every time he answered, the lips flickered first as in rapid +conversation—as of a man seen talking through a window; but this time +he stammered a little over his vowels.</p> + +<p>"I—I—I'm all right."</p> + +<p>Maggie leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly, and her eyes fixed +steadily on that baffling face.</p> + +<p>"Laurie; it's you I'm speaking to—<i>you</i>.... Can you hear me? Do <i>you</i> +understand?"</p> + +<p>Again the eyes rose quick and suspicious; and her hands knit yet more +closely together as she fought down the rising nausea. She drew a long +breath first; then she delivered a little speech which she had half +rehearsed upstairs. As she spoke he looked at her again.</p> + +<p>"Laurie," she said, "I want you to listen to me very carefully, and to +trust me. I know what is the matter with you; and I think you know +too. You can't fight—fight him by yourself.... Just hold on as +tightly as you can to me—with your mind, I mean. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>For a moment she thought that he perceived something of what she +meant: he looked at her so earnestly with those odd questioning eyes. +Then he jerked ever so slightly, as if some string had been suddenly +pulled, and glanced down again at the fire....</p> + +<p>"I ... I ... I'm all right," he said.</p> + +<p>It was horrible to see that motionlessness of body. He sat there as he +had probably sat since entering the room. His eyes moved, but scarcely +his head; and his hands hung down helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Laurie ... attend ..." she began again. Then she broke off.</p> + +<p>"Have you prayed, Laurie...? Do you understand what has happened to +you? You aren't really ill—at least, not exactly, but—"</p> + +<p>Again those eyes lifted, looked, and dropped again.</p> + +<p>It was piteous. For the instant the sense of nausea vanished, +swallowed up in emotion. Why ... why, he was there all the +while—Laurie ... dear Laurie....</p> + +<p>With one motion, swift and impetuous, she had thrown herself forward +on to her knees, and clasped at the hanging hands.</p> + +<p>"Laurie! Laurie!" she cried. "You haven't prayed ... you've been +playing, and the machinery has caught you. But it isn't too late! Oh, +God! it's not too late. Pray with me! Say the Our Father...."</p> + +<p>Again slowly the eyes moved round. He had started ever so little at +her rush, and the seizing of his hands; and now she felt those hands +moving weakly in her own, as of a sleeping child who tries to detach +himself from his mother's arms.</p> + +<p>"I ... I ... I'm all—"</p> + +<p>She grasped his hands more fiercely, staring straight up into those +strange piteous eyes that revealed so little, except formless +commotion and uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Say the Our Father with me. 'Our Father—'"</p> + +<p>Then his hands tore back, with a movement as fierce as her own, and +the eyes blazed with an unreal light. She still clung to his wrists, +looking up, struck with a paralysis of fear at the change, and the +furious hostility that flamed up in the face. The lips writhed back, +half snarling, half smiling....</p> + +<p>"Let go! let go!" he hissed at her. "What are you—"</p> + +<p>"The Our Father, Laurie ... the Our—"</p> + +<p>He wrenched himself backwards, striking her under the chin with his +knee. The couch slid backwards a foot against the wall, and he was on +his feet. She remained terror-stricken, shocked, looking up at the +dully flushed face that glared down on her.</p> + +<p>"Laurie! Laurie...! Don't you understand? Say one prayer—"</p> + +<p>"How dare you?" he whispered; "how dare you—"</p> + +<p>She stood up suddenly—wrenching her will back to self-command. Her +breath still came quick and panting; and she waited until once more +she breathed naturally. And all the while he stood looking down at her +with eyes of extraordinary malevolence.</p> + +<p>"Well, will you sit quietly and listen?" she said. "Will you do that?"</p> + +<p>Still he stared at her, with lips closed, breathing rapidly through +his nostrils. With a sudden movement she turned and went to her chair, +sat down and waited.</p> + +<p>He still watched her; then, with his eyes on her, with movements as of +a man in the act of self-defense, wheeled out the sofa to its place, +and sat down. She waited till the tension of his figure seemed to +relax again, till the quick glances at her from beneath drooping +eyelids ceased, and once more he settled down with dangling hands to +look at the fire. Then she began again, quietly and decisively.</p> + +<p>"Your mother isn't well," she said. "No ... just listen quietly. What +is going to happen tomorrow? I'm speaking to <i>you</i>, Laurie to <i>you</i>. +Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"I'm all right," he said dully.</p> + +<p>She disregarded it.</p> + +<p>"I want to help you, Laurie. You know that, don't you? I'm Maggie +Deronnais. You remember?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—Maggie Deronnais," said the boy, staring at the fire.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm Maggie. You trust me, don't you, Laurie? You can believe +what I say? Well, I want you to fight too. You and I together. Will +you let me do what I can?"</p> + +<p>Again the eyes rose, with that odd questioning look. Maggie thought +she perceived something else there too. She gathered her forces +quietly in silence an instant or two, feeling her heart quicken like +the pulse of a moving engine. Then she sprang to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Listen, then—in the name of Jesus of Nazareth—"</p> + +<p>He recoiled violently with a movement so fierce that the words died on +her lips. For one moment she thought he was going to spring. And again +he was on his feet, snarling. There was silence for an interminable +instant; then a stream of words, scorching and ferocious, snarled at +her like the furious growling of a dog—a string of blasphemies and +filth.</p> + +<p>Just so much she understood. Yet she held her ground, unable to speak, +conscious of the torrent of language that swirled against her from +that suffused face opposite, yet not understanding a tenth part of +what she heard.</p> + +<p>... "In the name of..."</p> + +<p>On the instant the words ceased; but so overpowering was the venom and +malice of the silence that followed that again she was silent, +perceiving that the utmost she could do was to hold her ground. So the +two stood. If the words were horrible to hear, the silence was more +horrible a thousand times; it was as when a man faces the suddenly +opened door of a furnace and sees the white cavern within.</p> + +<p>He was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>"You had better take care," he said.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>She scarcely knew how it was that she found herself again in her +chair, with the figure seated opposite.</p> + +<p>It seemed that the direct assault was useless. And indeed she was no +longer capable of making it. The nausea had returned, and with it a +sensation of weakness. Her knees still were lax and useless; and her +hand, as she turned it on the chair-arm, shook violently. Yet she had +a curious sense of irresponsibility: there was no longer any +terror—nothing but an overpowering weakness of reaction.</p> + +<p>She sat back in silence for some minutes, looking now at the fire too, +now at the figure opposite, noticing, however, that the helplessness +seemed gone. His hands dangled no longer; he sat upright, his hands +clasped, yet with a curious look of stiffness and unnaturalness.</p> + +<p>Once more she began deliberately to attempt to gather her forces; but +the will, it appeared, had lost its nervous grasp of the faculties. It +had no longer that quick grip and command with which she had begun. +Passivity rather than activity seemed her strength....</p> + +<p>Then suddenly and, as it appeared, inevitably, without movement or +sound, she began internally to pray, closing her eyes, careless, and +indeed unfearing. It seemed her one hope. And behind the steady +movement of her will—sufficient at least to elicit acts of +petition—her intellect observed a thousand images and thoughts. She +perceived the silence of the house and of the breathless spring night +outside; she considered Mr. Cathcart in the inn across the road, Mrs. +Baxter upstairs: she contemplated the future as it would be on the +morrow—Easter Day, was it not?—the past, and scarcely at all the +present. She relinquished all plans, all intentions and hopes: she +leaned simply upon the supernatural, like a tired child, and looked at +pictures.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In remembering it all afterwards, she recalled to herself the fact +that this process of prayer seemed strangely tranquil; that there had +been in her a consciousness of rest and recuperation as marked as that +which a traveler feels who turns into a lighted house from a stormy +night. The presence of that other in the room was not even an +interruption; the nervous force that the other had generated just now +seemed harmless and ineffective. For a time, at least, that was so. +But there came a moment when it appeared as if her almost mechanical +and rhythmical action of internal effort began to grip something. It +was as when an engine after running free clenches itself again upon +some wheel or cog.</p> + +<p>The moment she was aware of this, she opened her eyes; and saw that +the other was looking straight at her intently and questioningly. And +in that moment she perceived for the first time that her conflict lay, +not externally, as she had thought, but in some interior region of +which she was wholly ignorant. It was not by word or action, but by +something else which she only half understood that she was to +struggle....</p> + +<p>She closed her eyes again with quite a new kind of determination. It +was not self-command that she needed, but a steady interior +concentration of forces.</p> + +<p>She began again that resolute wordless play of the will—dismissing +with a series of efforts the intellectual images of thought—that play +of the will which, it seemed, had affected the boy opposite in a new +way. She had no idea of what the crisis would be, or how it would +come. She only saw that she had struck upon a new path that led +somewhere. She must follow it.</p> + +<p>Some little sound roused her; she opened her eyes and looked up.</p> + +<p>He had shifted his position, and for a moment her heart leapt with +hope. For he sat now leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, and his +head in his hands, and in the shaded lamplight it seemed that he was +shaking.</p> + +<p>She too moved, and the rustle of her dress seemed to reach him. He +glanced up, and before he dropped his head again she caught a clear +sight of his face. He was laughing, silently and overpoweringly, +without a sound....</p> + +<p>For a moment the nausea seized her so fiercely that she gasped, +catching at her throat; and she stared at that bowed head and shaking +shoulders with a horror that she had not felt before. The laughter was +worse than all: and it was a little while before she perceived its +unreality. It was like a laughing machine. And the silence of it gave +it a peculiar touch.</p> + +<p>She wrestled with herself, driving down the despair that was on +her. Courage and love.</p> + +<p>Again she leaned back without speaking, closing her eyes to shut out +the terror, and began desperately and resolutely to bend her will +again to the task.</p> + +<p>Again a little sound disturbed her.</p> + +<p>Once more he had shifted his position, and was looking straight at her +with a curious air of detached interest. His face looked almost +natural, though it was still flushed with that forced laughter; but +the mirth itself was gone. Then he spoke abruptly and sharply, in the +tone of a man who speaks to a tiresome child; and a little +conversation followed, in which she found herself taking a part, as in +an unnatural dream.</p> + +<p>"You had better take care," he said.</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid."</p> + +<p>"Well—I have warned you. It is at your own risk. What are you doing?"</p> + +<p>"I am praying."</p> + +<p>"I thought so.... Well, you had better take care."</p> + +<p>She nodded at him; closed her eyes once more with new confidence, and +set to work.</p> + +<p>After that a series of little scenes followed, of which, a few days +later, she could only give a disconnected account.</p> + +<p>She had heard the locking of the front door a long while ago; and she +knew that the household was gone to bed. It was then that she realized +how long the struggle would be. But the next incident was marked in +her memory by her hearing the tall clock in the silent hall outside +beat one. It was immediately after this that he spoke once more.</p> + +<p>"I have stood it long enough," he said, in that same abrupt manner.</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes.</p> + +<p>"You are still praying?" he said.</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>He got up without a word and came over to her, leaning forward with +his hands on his knees to peer into her face. Again, to her +astonishment, she was not terrified. She just waited, looking narrowly +at the strange person who looked through Laurie's eyes and spoke +through his mouth. It was all as unreal as a fantastic dream. It +seemed like some abominable game or drama that had to be gone through.</p> + +<p>"And you mean to go on praying?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it's the slightest use?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>He smiled unnaturally, as if the muscles of his mouth were not +perfectly obedient.</p> + +<p>"Well, I have warned you," he said.</p> + +<p>Then he turned, went back to his couch, and this time lay down on it +flat, turning over on his side, away from her, as if to sleep. He +settled himself there like a dog. She looked at him a moment; then +closed her eyes and began again.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Five minutes later she understood.</p> + +<p>The first symptom of which she was aware was a powerlessness to +formulate her prayers. Up to that point she had leaned, as has been +said, on an enormous Power external to herself, yet approached by an +interior way. Now it required an effort of the will to hold to that +Power at all. In terms of space, let it be said that she had rested, +like a child in the dark, upon Something that sustained her: now she +was aware that it no longer sustained her; but that it needed a strong +continuous effort to apprehend it at all. There was still the dark +about her; but it was of a different quality—it cannot be expressed +otherwise—it was as the darkness of an unknown gulf compared to the +darkness of a familiar room. It was of such a nature that space and +form seemed meaningless....</p> + +<p>The next symptom was a sense of terror, comparable only to that which +she had succeeded in crushing down as she stood on the stairs four or +five hours before. That, however, had been external to her; she had +entered it. Now it had entered her, and lay, heavy as pitch, upon the +very springs of her interior life. It was terror of something to come. +That which it heralded was not yet come: but it was approaching.</p> + +<p>The third symptom was the approach itself—swift and silent, like the +running of a bear; so swift that it was upon her through the dark +before she could stir or act. It came upon her, in a flash at the +last; and she understood the whole secret.</p> + +<p>It is possible only to describe it as, afterwards, she described it +herself. The powerlessness and the terror were no more than the +far-off effect of its approach; the Thing itself was the center.</p> + +<p>Of that realm of being from which it came she had no previous +conception: she had known evil only in its effects—in sins of herself +and others—known it as a man passing through a hospital ward sees +flushed or pale faces, or bandaged wounds. Now she caught some glimpse +of its essence, in the atmosphere of this bear-like thing that was +upon her. As aches and pains are to Death, so were sins to this +Personality—symptoms, premonitions, causes, but not Itself. And she +was aware that the Thing had come from a spiritual distance so +unthinkable and immeasurable, that the very word distance meant +little.</p> + +<p>Of the Presence itself and its mode she could use nothing better than +metaphors. But those to whom she spoke were given to understand that +it was not this or that faculty of her being that, so to speak, pushed +against it; but that her entire being was saturated so entirely, that +it was but just possible to distinguish her inmost self from it. The +understanding no longer moved; the emotions no longer rebelled; memory +simply ceased. Yet through the worst there remained one minute, +infinitesimally small spark of identity that maintained "I am I; and I +am not that." There was no analysis or consideration; scarcely even a +sense of disgust. In fact for a while there was a period when to that +tiny spot of identity it appeared that it would be an incalculable +relief to cease from striving, and to let self itself be merged in +that Personality so amazingly strong and compelling, that had +precipitated itself upon the rest.... Relief? Certainly. For though +emotion as most men know it was crushed out—that emotion stirred by +human love or hatred—there remained an instinct which strove, which, +by one long continuous tension, maintained itself in being.</p> + +<p>For the malignity of the thing was overwhelming. It was not mere +pressure; it had a character of its own for which the girl afterwards +had no words. She could only say that, so far from being negation, or +emptiness, or non-being, it had an air, hot as flame, black as pitch, +and hard as iron.</p> + +<p>That then was the situation for a time which she could only afterwards +reckon by guesswork; there was no development or movement—no +measurable incidents; there was but the state that remained poised; +below all those comparatively superficial faculties with which men in +general carry on their affairs—that state in which two Personalities +faced one another, welded together in a grip that lay on the very +brink of fusion....</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_XVIII" id="Chapter_XVIII" /><i>Chapter XVIII</i></h2> + + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>The cocks were crowing from the yards behind the village when Maggie +opened her eyes, clear shrill music, answered from the hill as by +their echoes, and the yews outside were alive with the dawn-chirping +of the sparrows.</p> + +<p>She lay there quite quietly, watching under her tired eyelids, through +the still unshuttered windows, the splendid glow, seen behind the +twisted stems in front and the slender fairy forest of birches on the +further side of the garden. Immediately outside the window lay the +path, deep in yew-needles, the ground-ivy beyond, and the wet lawn +glistening in the strange mystical light of morning.</p> + +<p>She had no need to remember or consider. She knew every step and +process of the night. That was Laurie who lay opposite in a deep +sleep, his head on his arm, breathing deeply and regularly; and this +was the little smoking-room where she had seen the cigarettes laid +ready against his coming, last night.</p> + +<p>There was still a log just alight on the hearth, she noticed. She got +out of her chair, softly and stiffly, for she felt intolerably languid +and tired. Besides, she must not disturb the boy. So she went down on +her knees, and, with infinite craft, picked out a coal or two from the +fender and dropped them neatly into the core of red-heat that still +smoldered. But a fragment of wood detached itself and fell with a +sharp sound; and she knew, even without turning her head, that the boy +had awakened. There was a faint inarticulate murmur, a rustle and a +long sigh.</p> + +<p>Then she turned round.</p> + +<p>Laurie was lying on his back, his arms clasped behind his head, +looking at her with a quiet meditative air. He appeared no more +astonished or perplexed than herself. He was a little white-looking +and tired in the light of dawn, but his eyes were bright and sure.</p> + +<p>She rose from her knees again, still silent, and stood looking down on +him, and he looked back at her. There was no need of speech. It was +one of those moments in which one does not even say that there are no +words to use; one just regards the thing, like a stretch of open +country. It is contemplation, not comment, that is needed.</p> + +<p>Her eyes wandered away presently, with the same tranquility, to the +brightening garden outside; and her slowly awakening mind, expanding +within, sent up a little scrap of quotation to be answered.</p> + +<p>"While it was yet early ... there came to the sepulcher." How did it +run? "Mary..." Then she spoke.</p> + +<p>"It is Easter Day, Laurie."</p> + +<p>The boy nodded gently; and she saw his eyes slowly closing once more; +he was not yet half awake. So she went past him on tiptoe to the +window, turned the handle, and opened the white tall framework-like +door. A gush of air, sweet as wine, laden with the smell of dew and +spring flowers and wet lawns, stole in to meet her; and a blackbird, +in the shrubbery across the garden, broke into song, interrupted +himself, chattered melodiously, and scurried out to vanish in a long +curve behind the yews. The very world itself of beast and bird was +still but half awake, and from the hamlet outside the fence, beyond +the trees, rose as yet no skein of smoke and no sound of feet upon the +cobbles.</p> + +<p>For the time no future presented itself to her. The minutes that +passed were enough. She regarded indeed the fact of the old man asleep +in the inn, of the old lady upstairs, but she rehearsed nothing of +what should be said to them by and by. She did not even think of the +hour, or whether she should go to bed presently for a while. She +traced no sequence of thought; she scarcely gave a glance at what was +past; it was the present only that absorbed her; and even of the +present not more than a fraction lay before her attention—the wet +lawn, the brightening east, the cool air—those with the joy that had +come with the morning were enough.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Again came the long sigh behind her; and a moment afterwards there was +a step upon the floor, and Laurie himself stood by her. She glanced at +him sideways, wondering for an instant whether his mood was as hers; +and his grave, tired, boyish face was answer enough. He met her eyes, +and then again let his own stray out to the garden.</p> + +<p>He was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>"Maggie," he said, "I think we had best never speak of this again to +one another." She nodded, but he went on—</p> + +<p>"I understand very little. I wish to understand no more. I shall ask +no questions, and nothing need be said to anybody. You agree?"</p> + +<p>"I agree perfectly," she said.</p> + +<p>"And not a word to my mother, of course."</p> + +<p>"Of course not."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The two were silent again.</p> + +<p>And now reality—or rather, the faculties of memory and consideration +by which reality is apprehended—were once more coming back to the +girl and beginning to stir in her mind. She began, gently now, and +without perturbation, to recall what had passed, the long crescendo of +the previous months, the gathering mutter of the spiritual storm that +had burst last night—even the roar and flare of the storm itself, and +the mad instinctive fight for the conscious life and identity of +herself through which she had struggled. And it seemed to her as if +the storm, like others in the material plane, had washed things clean +again, and discharged an oppression of which she had been but half +conscious. Neither was it herself alone who had emerged into this +"clear shining after rain"; but the boy that stood by her seemed to +her to share in her joy. They stood here together now in a spiritual +garden, of which this lovely morning was no more than a clumsy +translation into another tongue. There stirred an air about them which +was as wine to the soul, a coolness and clearness that was beyond +thought, in a radiance that shone through all that was bathed within +it, as sunlight that filtered through water. She perceived then that +the experience had been an initiation for them both, that here they +stood, one by the other, each transparent to the other, or, at least, +he transparent to her; and she wondered, not whether he would see it +as she did, for of that she was confident, but when. For this space of +silence she perceived him through and through, and understood that +perception was everything. She saw the flaws in him as plainly as in +herself, the cracks in the crystal; yet these did not matter, for the +crystal was crystal....</p> + +<p>So she waited, confident, until he should understand it too.</p> + +<p>"But that is only one fraction of what is in my mind—" He broke off.</p> + +<p>Then for the first time since she had opened her eyes just now her +heart began to beat. That which had lain hidden for so long—that +which she had crushed down under stone and seal and bidden lie +still—yet that which had held her resolute, all unknown to herself, +through the night that was gone—once more asserted itself and waited +for liberation.</p> + +<p>"Yet how dare I—" began Laurie.</p> + +<p>Again she glanced at him, terrified lest that which was in her heart +should declare itself too plainly by eyes and lips; and she saw how he +still looked across the garden, yet seeing nothing but his own thought +written there against the glory of sky and leaf and grass. His face +caught the splendor from the east, and she saw in it the lines that +would tell always of the anguish through which he was come; and again +the terror in her heart leapt to the other side, in spite of her +confidence, and bade her fear lest through some mistake, some +conventional shame, he should say no more.</p> + +<p>Then he turned his troubled eyes and looked her in the face, and as he +looked the trouble cleared.</p> + +<p>"Why—Maggie!" he said.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Epilogue" id="Epilogue" /><i>Epilogue</i></h2> + + +<p>"The worst of it all is," said Maggie, four months later, to a very +patient female friend who adored her, and was her <i>confidante</i> just +then—"the worst of it is that I'm not in the least sure of what it is +that I believe even now."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, dear," said the girl.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The two were sitting out in a delightfully contrived retreat cut out +at the lower end of the double hedge. Above them and on two sides rose +masses of August greenery, hazel and beech, as close as the roof and +walls of a summer-house: the long path ran in green gloom up to the +old brick steps beneath the yews: and before the two girls rested the +pleasant apparatus of tea—silver, china and damask, all the more +delightful from its barbaric contrast with its surroundings.</p> + +<p>Maggie looked marvelously well, considering the nervous strain that +had come upon her about Easter-time. She had collapsed altogether, it +seemed, in Easter week itself, and had been for a long rest—one at +her own dear French convent until a week ago, being entirely forbidden +by the nuns to speak of her experiences at all, so soon as they had +heard the rough outline. Mrs. Baxter had spent the time in rather +melancholy travel on the Continent, and was coming back this evening.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me now exactly like a very bad dream," said Maggie +pensively, beginning to measure in the tea with a small silver scoop. +"Oh! Mabel; may I tell you exactly what is in my mind: and then we +won't talk of it any more at all?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! do," said the girl, with a little comfortable movement.</p> + +<p>When the tea had been poured out and the plates set ready to hand, +Maggie began.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"It seems perfectly dreadful of me to have any doubts at all, after all +this; but ... but you don't know how queer it seems. There's a kind of +thick hedge—" she waved a hand illustratively to the hazels beside +her—"a kind of thick hedge between me and Easter—I suppose it's the +illness: the nuns tell me so. Well, it's like that. I can see myself, +and Laurie, and Mr. Cathcart, and all the rest of them, like figures +moving beyond; and they all seem to me to be behaving rather madly, as +if they saw something that I can't see.... Oh! it's hopeless....</p> + +<p>"Well, the first theory I have is that these little figures, myself +included, really see something that I can't now: that there really was +something or somebody, which makes them dance about like that. (Yes: +that's not grammar; but you understand, don't you?) Well, I'll come +back to that presently.</p> + +<p>"And my next theory is this ... is this"—Maggie sipped her tea +meditatively—"my next theory is that the whole thing was simple +imagination, or, rather, imagination acting upon a few little facts +and coincidences, and perhaps a little fraud too. Do you know the way, +if you're jealous or irritable, the way in which everything seems to +fit in? Every single word the person you're suspicious of utters all +fits in and corroborates your idea. It isn't mere imagination: you +have real facts, of a kind; but what's the matter is that you choose +to take the facts in one way and not another. You select and arrange +until the thing is perfectly convincing. And yet, you know, in nine +cases out of ten it's simply a lie...! Oh! I can't explain all the +things, certainly. I can't explain, for instance, the pencil +affair—when it stood up on end before Laurie's eyes; that is, if it +did really stand up at all. He says himself that the whole thing seems +rather dim now, as if he had seen it in a very vivid dream. (Have one +of these sugar things?)</p> + +<p>"Then there are the appearances Laurie saw; and the extraordinary +effect they finally had upon him. Oh! yes; at the time, on the night +of Easter Eve, I mean, I was absolutely certain that the thing was +real, that he was actually obsessed, that the thing—the Personality, +I mean—came at me instead, and that somehow I won. Mr. Cathcart tells +me I'm right—Well; I'll come to that presently. But if it didn't +happen, I certainly can't explain what did; but there are a good many +things one can't explain; and yet one doesn't instantly rush to the +conclusion that they're done by the devil. People say that we know +very little indeed about the inner working of our own selves. There's +instinct, for instance. We know nothing about that except that it is +so. 'Inherited experience' is only rather a clumsy phrase—a piece of +paper gummed up to cover a crack in the wall.</p> + +<p>"And that brings me to my third theory."</p> + +<p>Maggie poured out for herself a second cup of tea.</p> + +<p>"My third theory I'm rather vague about, altogether. And yet I see +quite well that it may be the true one. (Please don't interrupt till +I've quite done.)</p> + +<p>"We've got in us certain powers that we don't understand at all. For +instance, there's thought-projection. There's not a shadow of doubt +that that is so. I can sit here and send you a message of what I'm +thinking about—oh! vaguely, of course. It's another form of what we +mean by Sympathy and Intuition. Well, you know, some people think that +haunted houses can be explained by this. When the murder is going on, +the murderer and the murdered person are probably fearfully +excited—anger, fear, and so on. That means that their whole being is +stirred up right to the bottom, and that their hidden powers are +frightfully active. Well, the idea is that these hidden powers are +almost like acids, or gas—Hudson tells us all about that—and that +they can actually stamp themselves upon the room to such a degree that +when a sympathetic person comes in, years afterwards, perhaps, he sees +the whole thing just as it happened. It acts upon his mind first, of +course, and then outwards through the senses—just the reverse order +to that in which we generally see things.</p> + +<p>"Well—that's only an illustration. Now my idea is this: How do we +know whether all the things that happened, from the pencil and the +rappings and the automatic writing, right up to the appearances Laurie +saw, were not just the result of these inner powers.... Look here. +When one person projects his thought to another it arrives generally +like a very faint phantom of the thing he's thinking about. If I'm +thinking of the ace of hearts, you see a white rectangle with a red +spot in the middle. See? Well, multiply all that a hundred times, and +one can just see how it might be possible that the thought of ... of +Mr. Vincent and Laurie together might produce a kind of unreal phantom +that could even be touched, perhaps.... Oh! I don't know."</p> + +<p>Maggie paused. The girl at her side gave an encouraging murmur.</p> + +<p>"Well—that's about all," said Maggie slowly.</p> + +<p>"But you haven't—"</p> + +<p>"Why, how stupid! Yes: the first theory.... Now that just shows how +unreal it is to me now. I'd forgotten it.</p> + +<p>"Well, the first theory, my dear brethren, divides itself into two +heads—first the theory of the spiritualists, secondly the theory of +Mr. Cathcart. (He's a dear, Mabel, even though I don't believe one +word he says.)</p> + +<p>"Well, the spiritualist theory seems to me simple R.-O.-T.—rot. Mr. +Vincent, Mrs. Stapleton, and the rest, really think that the souls of +people actually come back and do these things; that it was, really and +truly, poor dear Amy Nugent who led Laurie such a dance. I'm quite, +quite certain that that's not true whatever else is.... Yes, I'll come +to the coincidences presently. But how can it possibly be that Amy +should come back and do these things, and hurt Laurie so horribly? +Why, she couldn't if she tried. My dear, to be quite frank, she was a +very common little thing: and, besides, she wouldn't have hurt a hair +of his head.</p> + +<p>"Now for Mr. Cathcart."</p> + +<p>There was a long pause. A small cat stepped out suddenly from the +hazel tangle behind and eyed the two girls. Then, quite noiselessly, +as it caught Maggie's eye, it opened its mouth in a pathetic curve +intended to represent, an appeal.</p> + +<p>"You darling!" cried Maggie suddenly; seized a saucer, filled it with +milk, and set it on the ground. The small cat stepped daintily down, +and set to work.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said the other girl tentatively.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Mr. Cathcart.... Well, I must say that his theory fits in with +what Father Mahon says. But, you know, theology doesn't say that this +or that particular thing is the devil, or has actually happened in any +given instance—only that, if it really does happen, it is the devil. +Well, this is Mr. Cathcart's idea. It's a long story: you mustn't +mind.</p> + +<p>"First, he believes in the devil in quite an extraordinary way.... Oh! +yes, I know we do too; but it's so very real indeed with him. He +believes that the air is simply thick with them, all doing their very +utmost to get hold of human beings. Yes, I suppose we do believe that +too; but I expect that since there are such a quantity of things—like +bad dreams—that we used to think were the devil, and now only turn +out to be indigestion, that we're rather too skeptical. Well, Mr. +Cathcart believes both in indigestion, so to speak, <i>and</i> the devil. +He believes that those evil spirits are at us all the time, trying to +get in at any crack they can find—that in one person they produce +lunacy—I must say it seems to me rather odd the way in which lunatics +so very often become horribly blasphemous and things like that—and in +another just shattered nerves, and so on. They take advantage, he +says, of any weak spot anywhere.</p> + +<p>"Now one of the easiest ways of all is through spiritualism. +Spiritualism is wrong—we know that well enough; it is wrong because +it's trying to live a life and find out things that are beyond us at +present. It's 'wrong' on the very lowest estimate, because it's +outraging our human nature. Yes, Mabel, that's his phrase. Good +intentions, therefore, don't protect us in the least. To go to +<i>séances</i> with good intentions is like ... like ... holding a +smoking-concert in a powder-magazine on behalf of an orphan asylum. +It's not the least protection—I'm not being profane, my dear—it's +not the least protection to open the concert with prayer. We've got no +business there at all. So we're blown up just the same.</p> + +<p>"The danger...? Oh! the danger's this, Mr. Cathcart says. At +<i>séances</i>, if they're genuine, and with automatic handwriting and all +the rest, you deliberately approach those powers in a friendly way, +and by the sort of passivity which you've got to get yourself into, +you open yourself as widely as possible to their entrance. Very often +they can't get in; and then you're only bothered. But sometimes they +can, and then you're done. It's particularly hard to get them out +again.</p> + +<p>"Now, of course, no one in his senses—especially decent people—would +dream of doing all this if he knew what it all meant. So these +creatures, whatever they may be, always pretend to be somebody else. +They're very sharp: they can pick up all kinds of odds and ends, +little tricks, and little facts; and so, with these, they impersonate +someone whom the inquirer's very fond of; and they say all sorts of +pious, happy little things at first in order to lead them on. So they +go on for a long time saying that religion's quite true. (By the way, +it's rather too odd the way in which the Catholic Church seems the one +thing they don't like! You can be almost anything else, if you're a +spiritualist; but you can't be a Catholic.) Generally, though, they +tell you to say your prayers and sing hymns. (Father Mahon the other +day, when I was arguing with him about having some hymns in church, +said that heretics always went in for hymns!) And so you go on. Then +they begin to hint that religion's not worth much; and then they +attack morals. Mr. Cathcart wouldn't tell me about that; but he said +it got just as bad as it could be, if you didn't take care."</p> + +<p>Maggie paused again, looking rather serious. Her voice had risen a +little, and a new color had come to her face as she talked. She +stooped to pick up the saucer.</p> + +<p>"Dearest, had you better—"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes: I've just about done," said Maggie briskly. "There's hardly +any more. Well, there's the idea. They want to get possession of human +beings and move them, so they start like that.</p> + +<p>"Well; that's what Mr. Cathcart says happened to Laurie. One of those +Beasts came and impersonated poor Amy. He picked up certain things +about her—her appearance, her trick of stammering, and of playing +with her fingers, and about her grave and so on: and then, finally, +made his appearance in her shape."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand about that," murmured the girl.</p> + +<p>"Oh! my dear, I can't bother about that now. There's a lot about +astral substance, and so on. Besides, this is only what Mr. Cathcart +says. As I told you, I'm not at all sure that I believe one word of +it. But that's his idea."</p> + +<p>Maggie stopped again suddenly, and leaned back, staring out at the +luminous green roof of hazels above her. The small cat could be +discerned half-way up the leafy tunnel swaying its body in preparation +for a pounce, while overhead sounded an agitated twittering. Mabel +seized a pebble, and threw it with such success that the swaying +stopped, and a reproachful cat-face looked round at her.</p> + +<p>"There!" said Mabel comfortably; and then, "Well, what do you really +think?"</p> + +<p>Maggie smiled reflectively.</p> + +<p>"That's exactly what I don't know myself in the very least. As I said, +all this seems to me more like a dream—and a very bad one. I think +it's the ... the nastiest thing," she added vindictively, "that I've +ever come across; I don't want to hear one word more about it as long +as I live."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, why can't we be all just sensible and normal? I love +doing just ordinary little things—the garden, and the chickens, and +the cat and dog and complaining to the butcher. I cannot imagine what +anybody wants with anything else. Yes; I suppose I do, in a sort of +way, believe Mr. Cathcart. It seems to me, granted the spiritual world +at all—which, naturally, I do grant—far the most intelligent +explanation. It seems to me, intellectually, far the most broad-minded +explanation; because it really does take in all the facts—if they are +facts—and accounts for them reasonably. Whereas the subjective—self +business—oh, it's frightfully clever and ingenious—but it does +assume such a very great deal. It seems to me rather like the people +who say that electricity accounts for everything—electricity! And as +for the imagination theory—well, that's what appeals to me now, +emotionally—because I happen to be in the chickens and butcher mood; +but it doesn't in the least convince me. Yes; I suppose Mr. Cathcart's +theory is the one I ought to believe, and, in a way, the one I do +believe; but that doesn't in the least prevent me from feeling it +extraordinarily unreal and impossible. Anyhow, it doesn't matter +much."</p> + +<p>Again she leaned back comfortably, smiling to herself, and there was a +long silence.</p> + +<p>It was a divinely beautiful August evening. From where they sat little +could be seen except the long vista of the path, arched with hazels, +whence the cat had now disappeared, ending in three old brick steps, +wide and flat, lichened and mossed, set about with flower-pots and +leading up to the yew walk. But the whole air was full of summer sound +and life and scent, heavy and redolent, streaming in from the old +box-lined kitchen-garden on their right beyond the hedge and from the +orchard on the left. It was the kind of atmosphere suggesting Nature +in her most sensible mood, full-blooded, normal, perfectly fulfilling +her own vocation; utterly unmystical, except by very subtle +interpretation; unsuggestive, since she was already saying all that +could be said, and following out every principle by which she lived to +the furthest confine of its contents. It presented the same kind of +rounded-off completion and satisfactoriness as that suggested by an +entirely sensuous and comfortable person. There were no corners in it, +no vistas hinting at anything except at some perfectly normal lawn or +set garden, no mystery, no implication of any other theory or glimpse +of theory except that which itself proclaimed.</p> + +<p>Something of its air seemed now to breathe in Maggie's expression of +contentment, as she smiled softly and happily, clasping her arms +behind her head. She looked perfectly charming, thought Mabel; and she +laid a hand delicately on her friend's knee, as if to share in the +satisfaction—to verify it by participation, so to speak.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't seem to have done you much harm," she said.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you; I'm extremely well and very content. I've looked +through the door once, without in the least wishing to; and I don't in +the least want to look again. It's not a nice view."</p> + +<p>"But about—er—religion," said the younger girl rather awkwardly.</p> + +<p>"Oh! religion's all right," said Maggie. "The Church gives me just as +much of all that as is good for me; and, for the rest, just tells me +to be quiet and not bother—above all, not to peep or pry. Listeners +hear no good of themselves: and I suppose that's true of the other +senses too. At any rate, I'm going to do my best to mind nothing +except my own business."</p> + +<p>"Isn't that rather unenterprising?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly it is; that's why I like it.... Oh! Mabel, I do want to be +so absolutely ordinary all the rest of my life. It's so extremely rare +and original, you know. Didn't somebody say that there was nothing so +uncommon as common sense? Well, that's what I'm going to be. A genius! +Don't you understand?—the kind that is an infinite capacity for +taking pains, not the other sort."</p> + +<p>"What is the other sort?"</p> + +<p>"Why, an infinite capacity for doing without them. Like Wagner, you +know. Well, I wish to be the Bach sort—the kind of thing that anyone +ought to be able to do—only they can't."</p> + +<p>Mabel smiled doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Lady Laura was saying—" she began presently.</p> + +<p>Maggie's face turned suddenly severe.</p> + +<p>"I don't wish to hear one word."</p> + +<p>"But she's given it up," cried the girl. "She's given it up."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to hear it," said Maggie judicially. "And I hope now that +she'll spend the rest of her days in sackcloth—with a scourge," she +added. "Oh, did I tell you about Mrs. Nugent?"</p> + +<p>"About the evening Laurie came home? Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's all right. The poor old dear got all sorts of things on +her mind, when it leaked out. But I talked to her, and we went up +together and put flowers on the grave, and I said I'd have a mass said +for Amy, though I'm sure she doesn't require one. The poor darling! +But ... but ... (don't think me brutal, please) <i>how</i> providential her +death was! Just think!"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Baxter's coming home by the 6.10, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>Maggie nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes; but you know you mustn't say a word to her about all this. In +fact she won't have it. She's perfectly convinced that Laurie +overworked himself—Laurie, overworked!—and that that was just all +that was the matter with him. Auntie's what's called a sensible woman, +you know, and I must say it's rather restful. It's what I want to be; +but it's a far-off aspiration, I'm afraid, though I'm nearer it than I +was."</p> + +<p>"You mean she doesn't think anything odd happened at all?"</p> + +<p>"Just so. Nothing at all odd. All very natural. Oh, by the way, Laurie +swears he never put his nose inside her room that night, but I'm +absolutely certain he did, and didn't know it."</p> + +<p>"Where is Mr. Lawrence?"</p> + +<p>"Auntie made him go abroad."</p> + +<p>"And when does he come back?"</p> + +<p>There was a perceptible pause.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lawrence comes back on Saturday evening," said Maggie +deliberately.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14275 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |