t for one moment. Please,
please come here. I only wondered whether there was any particular
precaution--"

"I will think about it," said the medium. "But I am sure we must be
careful not to shock him. Of course, we don't all take the same view
about religion; but we can leave that for the present. The point is
that Mr. Baxter should, if possible, see something unmistakable. The
rest can take care of itself.... Then, if you consent, Lady Laura, we
might have a little sitting here next Sunday night. Would nine o'clock
suit you?"

He glanced at the two ladies.

"That will do very well," said the mistress of the house. "And, about
preparations--"

"I will look in on Saturday afternoon. Is there anyone particular you
think of asking?"

"Mr. Jamieson came to see me again a few days ago," suggested Lady
Laura tentatively.

"That will do very well. Then we three and those two. That will be
quite enough for the present."

He stood up--a big, dominating figure--a reassuring man to look at,
with his kindly face, his bushy, square beard, and his appearance of
physical strength. Lady Laura sat vaguely comforted.

"And about my notes," asked Maud Stapleton.

"I think they will not be necessary.... Good-day.... Saturday
afternoon."

The two sat on silently for a minute or two after he was gone.

"What is the matter, dearest?"

Lady Laura's little anxious face did not move. She was staring
thoughtfully at the fire. Mrs. Stapleton laid a sympathetic hand on
the other's knee.

"Dearest--" she began.

"No; it is nothing, darling," said Lady Laura.

* * * * *

Meanwhile the medium was picking his way through the foggy streets.
Figures loomed up, sudden and enormous, and vanished again. Smoky
flares of flame shone like spots of painted fire, bright and
unpenetrating, from windows overhead; and sounds came to him through
the woolly atmosphere, dulled and sonorous. It would, so to speak,
have been a suitably dramatic setting for his thoughts if he had been
thinking in character, vaguely suggestive of presences and hints and
peeps into the unknown.

But he was a very practical man. His spiritualistic faith was a
reality to him, as unexciting as Christianity to the normal Christian;
he entertained no manner of doubt as to its truth.

Beyond all the fraud, the self-deception, the amazing feats of the
subconscious self, there remained certain facts beyond doubting--facts
which required, h