sing his admiration in the most extravagant
phrases; and then the girl ceased singing, and, looking at Hans with her
large blue eyes, smiled and beckoned him to approach. I caught hold of
him, and begged and implored him to do nothing so foolish, but he
wrenched himself free, and, striking me savagely on the chest, leaped
into the water and swam towards the rock.

"With what eagerness I counted his strokes and watched the dreaded
distance diminish! On and on he swam, till at length he was close to the
rock, and the lady, bending down, was holding out her lily hands to him.
Hans clutched at them, and they were, I thought, already in his fevered
grasp, when she coyly snatched them away and struck him playfully on the
head. The cruel, hungry waters then surged over him. I saw him sink
down, down, down: I saw him no more. When I raised my agonised eyes to
the rocks, all was silent and desolate: the lady had vanished."

CHAPTER XII

BUDDHAS AND BOGGLE CHAIRS

It was in Paris, at the Hotel Mandeville, that I met the Baroness Paoli,
an almost solitary survivor of the famous Corsican family. I was
introduced to her by John Heroncourt, a friend in common, and the
introduction was typical of his characteristic unorthodoxy.

"Mr Elliott O'Donnell, the Baroness Paoli. Mr Elliott O'Donnell is a
writer on the superphysical. He is unlike the majority of psychical
researchers, inasmuch as he has not based his knowledge on hearsay, but
has actually seen, heard, and felt occult phenomena, both collectively
and individually."

The Baroness smiled.

"Then I am delighted to meet Mr O'Donnell, for I, too, have had
experience with the superphysical."

She extended her hand; the introduction was over.

A man in my line of life has to work hard. My motto is promptness. I
have no time to waste on superfluity of any kind. I come to the point at
once. Consequently, my first remark to the Baroness was direct from the
shoulder:

"Your experiences. Please tell them--they will be both interesting and
useful."

The Baroness gently clasped her hands--truly psychic hands, with slender
fingers and long shapely nails--and, looking at me fixedly, said:

"If you write about it, promise that you will not mention names."

"They shall at all events be unrecognisable," I said. "Please begin."

And without further delay the Baroness commenced her story.

"You must know," she said, "that in my family, as in most historical
families--part