From that moment I have avoided Malling. I could never tell him. But you,
hard searcher after truth as you are--you could never find it in you to
drag away another from the contemplation of truth. Could you? Could you?"

"Probably not," said Stepton. "I usually let folks alone even when
they're glaring at falsehood. Ha!"

He settled himself in his chair, looking sidewise toward Chichester.

"You, like every one else, have noticed the tremendous change in Marcus
Harding," Chichester went on. "That change, the whole of that change, is
solely owing to me."

"Very glad to have your explanation of that."

"I am going to give it you. The beginning of that change came about
through the action of Marcus Harding. He wished for facts that are,
perhaps,--indeed, probably,--withheld deliberately from the cognizance
of man. You have sneered at those who live by faith, you have sneered at
priests. Well, you can let that Marcus Harding go free of your sarcasm.
Although a clergyman he was not a faithful man. And he wanted facts to
convince him that there was a life beyond the grave. Henry Chichester--"

"You! You!" interjected Stepton, harshly.

"I, then, came into his life. He thought he would use me to further his
purpose. He constrained me to sittings such as you have often taken part
in, with a view to sending me into a trance and employing me, when in
that condition, as a means of communication with the other world--if
there was one. We sat secretly in this room, at this table."

"You need not give me ordinary details of your sittings," said the
professor. "I am familiar with them, of course."

"Henry Chichester--"

"You! You! Don't complicate matters!"

"I never was entranced; but presently I felt myself changing subtly."

"People very often imagine they are developing into something wonderful
at seances. Nothing new in that."

"Please try to realize the facts of my case without assuming that it
resembles a thousand others. I believe, I feel sure, that it resembles no
other case that has come under your observation. To grasp it you must
grasp the characters of two men, Marcus Harding as he was--and myself,
as I was."

"Put them before me, then."

"That Marcus Harding you knew. He was the type of the man who, sublimely
self-confident, imposes his view of himself upon other men and especially
upon women. He had strength--strength of body and strength of mind. And
he had the strength which a devouring ambition shed