captain's daughter, who stood unnoticed by one of the curtained
windows.

A profound silence followed, broken by a stifled sob from some
over-nervous woman. The low roll of an organ filled the void and died.
After that there was no complete sound but at intervals the silence took
breath, spoke in a half-articulate wail, and was dumb again.

Pale nebulous light shone in the cabinet and faded: then a single ray
fell direct on Laidley's face. It stood out from the night around like
a bas-relief--livid, commonplace, a presentment of every-day death. Each
man present suddenly saw his own grave open, and the world beyond
brought within reach through this insignificant man.

"The spirits of many of the dead are present," said the sepulchral voice
within the cabinet. "What do you ask of them?"

Laidley's lips moved: he grasped the arms of his chair, half rose: then
he fumbled mechanically in his pocket for his cigar-case, and not
finding it sank back helplessly.

"What do you ask of them? Their time is brief."

"I'm a very ill man," he piped feebly: "the doctors give me no hope at
all. I want advice about a certain matter before--before it's too late.
It is a great wrong I have done that I want to set right."

"Can any of the dead counsel you? Or do you summon one soul to appear?"

"There is but one who knows."

"Call for her, then."

Laidley looked about him uncertainly: then he said in a hoarse whisper,
"Virginie Morot!"

The captain sprang to his feet: "My wife? No, no! for God's sake!"

The light was swiftly drawn back into the cabinet and extinguished.
After several minutes the voice was heard again: "The spirit summoned is
present. But it has not the force to resume a material body unless the
need is urgent. You must state the question you would have answered."

"I must see Virginie here, in bodily presence, before I'll accept any
answer," said Laidley obstinately. "I'll have no hocus-pocus by mediums
or raps. If the dead know anything, she knows why I need her. I have had
money to which she had a--well, a claim. I've not spent it, perhaps, in
the best way. I have a mind now to atone for my mistake by leaving it to
a charity where I know it will do great good."

An amazed whistle broke through the darkness from the corner where the
judge sat. The captain caught Laidley's shoulder. "William," he
whispered, "surely you forget Jane."

Laidley shook him off. "The money is my own," he said loudly, "to do
with