“Don’t be alarmed, dear. It is all quite right. No one will hurt you.”
“It is someone who has never been through before,” she explained to the company. “Naturally it seems very strange to her. Just as strange as if we broke into their world. That’s right, dear. You are gaining strength, I can see. Well done!”
The figure was moving forward. Everyone sat spellbound, with staring eyes. Miss Badley began to giggle hysterically. Weatherby lay back in his chair, gasping with horror. Neither Malone nor Enid felt any fear, but were consumed with curiosity. How marvellous to hear the humdrum flow of life in the street outside and to be face to face with such a sight as that.
Slowly the figure moved round. Now it was close to Enid and between her and the red light. Stooping, she could get the silhouette sharply outlined. It was that of a little, elderly woman, with sharp, clear-cut features.
“It’s Susan!” cried Mrs. Bolsover. “Oh, Susan, don’t you know me?”
The figure turned and nodded her head.
“Yes, yes, dear, it is your sister Susie,” cried her husband. “I never saw her in anything but black. Susan, speak to us!”
The head was shaken.
“They seldom speak the first time they come,” said Mrs. Linden, whose rather blasé, business-like air was in contrast to the intense emotion of the company. “I’m afraid she can’t hold together long. Ah, there! She has gone!”
The figure had disappeared. There had been some backward movement towards the cabinet, but it seemed to the observers that she sank into the ground before she reached it. At any rate, she was gone.
“Gramophone, please!” said Mrs. Linden. Everyone relaxed and sat back with a sigh. The gramophone struck up a lively air. Suddenly the curtains parted, and a second figure appeared.
It was a young girl, with flowing hair down her back. She came forward swiftly and with perfect assurance to the centre of the circle.
Mrs. Linden laughed in a satisfied way.
“Now you will get something good,” she said. “Here is Lucille.”
“Good evening, Lucille!” cried the Duchess. “I met you last month, you will remember, when your medium came to Maltraver Towers.”
“Yes, yes, lady, I remember you. You have a little boy, Tommy, on our side of life. No, no, not dead, lady! We are far more alive than you are. All the fun and frolic are with us!” She spoke in a high clear voice and perfect English.
“Shall I show you what we do over here?” She began a graceful, gliding dance, while she whistled as melodiously as a bird. “Poor Susan could not do that. Susan has had no practice. Lucille knows how to use a built-up body.”
“Do you remember me, Lucille?” asked Mailey.
“I remember you, Mr. Mailey. Big man with yellow beard.”
For the second time in her life Enid had to pinch herself hard to satisfy herself that she was not dreaming. Was this graceful creature, who had now sat down in the centre of the circle, a real materialization of ectoplasm, used for the moment as a machine for expression by a soul that had passed, or was it an illusion of the senses, or was it a fraud? There were the three possibilities. An illusion was absurd when all had the same impression. Was it a fraud? But this was certainly not the little old woman. She was inches taller and fair, not dark. And the cabinet was fraud-proof. It had been meticulously examined. Then it was true. But if it were true, what a vista of possibilities opened out. Was it not for the greatest matter which could claim the attention of the world!
Meanwhile, Lucille had been so natural and the situation was so norma
l that even the most nervous had relaxed. The girl answered most cheerfully to every question, and they rained upon her from every side.
“Where did you live, Lucille?”
“Perhaps I had better answer that,” interposed Mrs. Linden. “It will save the power. Lucille was bred in South Dakota in the United States, and passed over at the age of fourteen. We have verified some of her statements.”
“Are you glad you died, Lucille?”
“Glad for my own sake. Sorry for mother.”
“Has your mother seen you since?”
“Poor mother is a shut box. Lucille cannot open the lid.”
“Are you happy?”
“Oh, yes, so gloriously happy.”