trange, deep voice.

"Where is Mrs. Delamere? It will not hurt her, I trust."

"The medium is happy in another plane of existence. She has taken my
place, as I have taken hers."

"Who are you?"

"It cannot matter to you who I am. I am one who has lived as you are
living, and who has died as you will die."

We heard the creak and grate of a cab pulling up next door. There was an
argument about the fare, and the cabman grumbled hoarsely down the
street. The green-yellow cloud still swirled faintly over the table,
dull elsewhere, but glowing into a dim luminosity in the direction of
the medium. It seemed to be piling itself up in front of her. A sense of
fear and cold struck into my heart. It seemed to me that lightly and
flippantly we had approached the most real and august of sacraments,
that communion with the dead of which the fathers of the Church had
spoken.

"Don't you think we are going too far? Should we not break up this
seance?" I cried.

But the others were all earnest to see the end of it. They laughed at my
scruples.

"All the powers are made for use," said Harvey Deacon. "If we _can_ do
this, we _should_ do this. Every new departure of knowledge has been
called unlawful in its inception. It is right and proper that we should
inquire into the nature of death."

"It is right and proper," said the voice.

"There, what more could you ask?" cried Moir, who was much excited. "Let
us have a test. Will you give us a test that you are really there?"

"What test do you demand?"

"Well, now--I have some coins in my pocket. Will you tell me how many?"

"We come back in the hope of teaching and of elevating, and not to guess
childish riddles."

"Ha, ha, Meester Moir, you catch it that time," cried the Frenchman.
"But surely this is very good sense what the Control is saying."

"It is a religion, not a game," said the cold, hard voice.

"Exactly--the very view I take of it," cried Moir. "I am sure I am very
sorry if I have asked a foolish question. You will not tell me who you
are?"

"What does it matter?"

"Have you been a spirit long?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"We cannot reckon time as you do. Our conditions are different."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes."

"You would not wish to come back to life?"

"No--certainly not."

"Are you busy?"

"We could not be happy if we were not busy."

"What do you do?"

"I have said that the conditions are entirely different."

"Can you give us no idea of