matic writing?"

The other nodded.

"Yes," he said. "The experimenter puts his fingers lightly upon that,
and there's a sheet of paper beneath. That is all."

Laurie looked at him, half curiously. Then with a sudden movement he
stood up.

"Yes," he said. "Thank you. But--"

"Please sit down, Mr. Baxter.... I know you haven't come about that
kind of thing. Will you kindly tell me what you have come about?"

He, too, sat down, and, without looking at the other, began slowly to
fill his pipe again, with his strong capable fingers. Laurie stared at
the process, unseeing.

"Just tell me simply," said the medium again, still without looking at
him.

Laurie threw himself back.

"Well, I will," he said. "I know it's absurdly childish; but I'm a
little frightened. It's about a dream."

"That's not necessarily childish."

"It's a dream I had tonight--in my chair after dinner."

"Well?"

* * * * *

Then Laurie began.

For about ten minutes he talked without ceasing. Mr. Vincent smoked
tranquilly, putting what seemed to Laurie quite unimportant questions
now and again, and nodding gently from time to time.

"And I'm frightened," ended Laurie; "and I want you to tell me what it
all means."

The other drew a long inhalation through his pipe, expelled it, and
leaned back.

"Oh, it's comparatively common," he said; "common, that is, with
people of your temperament, Mr. Baxter--and mine.... You tell me that
it was prayer that enabled you to get through at the end? That is
interesting."

"But--but--was it more than fancy--more, I mean, than an ordinary
dream?"

"Oh, yes; it was objective. It was a real experience."

"You mean--"

"Mr. Baxter, just listen to me for a minute or two. You can ask any
questions you like at the end. First, you are a Catholic, you told me;
you believe, that is to say, among other things, that the spiritual
world is a real thing, always present more or less. Well, of course, I
agree with you; though I do not agree with you altogether as to the
geography and--and other details of that world. But you believe, I
take it, that this world is continually with us--that this room, so to
speak, is a great deal more than that of which our senses tell us that
there are with us, now and always, a multitude of influences, good,
bad, and indifferent, really present to our spirits?"

"I suppose so," said Laurie.

"Now begin again. There are two kinds of dreams.