ritualist, ready to be humbugged by the first shrewd trickster that
came along. He went on:
"Now, this evening you will see a remarkable woman; I have been able to
control her in a remarkable way. I confess that I had never thought of
seeking the materialization of an inanimate object. But I believe that
it can be done. It shall be done. We shall have that journal this
night."
I was almost convinced by my friend's absolute confidence; then saddened
by the thought that this usually hard-headed, keen young lawyer had such
a weak spot in his brain. He was the last man you would expect to be
deluded by the tricks of the medium. At the same time I found myself, in
spite of my skepticism, wondering what would come of it all. That
evening I was seated in Judson's large parlor, one of about twenty
persons of the sort usually seen at such seances; the Spiritualists of
the place, I thought. The room had been arranged after the fashion
customary. There was an improvised cabinet in one corner, chairs in a
semi-circle in front of it, not too near. Judson seemed a sort of master
of ceremonies, passing in and out, greeting newcomers, whispering a word
here and there. He was pale, I thought, and seemed rather pre-occupied.
We waited perhaps a quarter of an hour, and then Judson ushered into the
room a tall, slender woman, middle-aged, gray-haired, with rather
strongly marked features and dark eyes that had a tired look. She seemed
a person of nerves. A trifle above the average medium in appearance of
intelligence and refinement, and with rather less of the self-assertive
boldness usually displayed by the women who make a business of communing
with spirits. There was no preliminary nonsense. She entered the cabinet
in a business-like way. Judson turned the gas down low, so that we were
in the dimmest sort of a dim religious light--just the light, I have
always observed, that seemed most congenial to spirits, or, rather, that
aided most effectually in the tricks played by the mediums. Then he sat
down by my side and said: "Let us all clasp hands."
I grasped with my left the fat hand of a large woman next to me, and
Judson seized my right with his left hand. It was quite cold, and I
thought trembled a little. He leaned over me and whispered in my ear: "I
am determined to see that journal to-night. If will can do it, it shall
be done. Join your will with mine. You are a man of will. Let us force
the powers to yield to our combined wil
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