when he
summoned them, passed for a moment timidly and awfully into the solid,
coloured universe.... He could not say how it was brought about.... The
experience was a rough one for the body, and many such struggles would
lead to insanity and early death. That is why Backhouse was stern
and abrupt in his manner. The coarse, clumsy suspicion of some of the
witnesses, the frivolous aestheticism of others, were equally obnoxious
to his grim, bursting heart; but he was obliged to live, and, to pay his
way, must put up with these impertinences.

He sat down facing the wooden couch. His eyes remained open but seemed
to look inward. His cheeks paled, and he became noticeably thinner. The
spectators almost forgot to breathe. The more sensitive among them began
to feel, or imagine, strange presences all around them. Maskull's
eyes glittered with anticipation, and his brows went up and down, but
Nightspore appeared bored.

After a long ten minutes the pedestal of the statue was seen to become
slightly blurred, as though an intervening mist were rising from the
ground. This slowly developed into a visible cloud, coiling hither and
thither, and constantly changing shape. The professor half rose, and
held his glasses with one hand further forward on the bridge of his
nose.

By slow stages the cloud acquired the dimensions and approximate outline
of an adult human body, although all was still vague and blurred. It
hovered lightly in the air, a foot or so above the couch. Backhouse
looked haggard and ghastly. Mrs. Jameson quietly fainted in her chair,
but she was unnoticed, and presently revived. The apparition now settled
down upon the couch, and at the moment of doing so seemed suddenly to
grow dark, solid, and manlike. Many of the guests were as pale as the
medium himself, but Faull preserved his stoical apathy, and glanced once
or twice at Mrs. Trent. She was staring straight at the couch, and was
twisting a little lace handkerchief through the different fingers of her
hand. The music went on playing.

The figure was by this time unmistakably that of a man lying down. The
face focused itself into distinctness. The body was draped in a sort of
shroud, but the features were those of a young man. One smooth hand
fell over, nearly touching the floor, white and motionless. The weaker
spirits of the company stared at the vision in sick horror; the rest
were grave and perplexed. The seeming man was dead, but somehow it did
not appea