CHAPTER XXI.

Mrs. Winslow, under the Influence of "Spirits" of an earthly

Order, becomes romantic, religious, and poetical.-- A

Trance.-- Detective Bristol also proves a Poet.-- A Drama

to be written.

When the evening came and Mrs. Winslow came with it, she was observed to

be in a high state of nervous and vinous excitement, and at such times

she contrived to inaugurate a series of actions which proved not only

interesting, but illustrative of her strange character.

She declared to Bristol and Fox that the Lord was hardening Lyon's heart

as in the olden times the heart of Pharaoh was hardened, so that he

should rush upon his fated disgrace as the Egyptian king rushed upon his

fate while forcing the children of Israel into deliverance, and

destruction upon himself; and like the unrelenting Mrs. Clennam in

"Little Dorrit," had at command any number of scriptural parallels to

prove the righteousness of her sin. This sort of blasphemy is the most

pitiable imaginable, and to hear the woman in her semi-intoxicated,

semi-crazed condition, mingling her vile catch-words with scraps of

spiritualistic sayings, snatches of holy songs, couplets of roystering

ballads, and crowning the hideousness of the whole with countless Bible

quotations, was to be in the presence of supreme garrulousness,

temperamental religious frenzy, and superstitious vileness.

It appeared that after she had escaped from the excitement she had

created in the Arcade, she had been driven to the apartments of every

clairvoyant of note in the city and had a "sitting" with each. In her

excited condition, and being noted for having plenty of money, it was

both easy to rob her and secure what was uppermost in her mind.

Consequently, it was revealed to her by every medium that Lyon would

settle with her for a large sum of money.

One medium averred that in her vision Lyon was seen, as it were, bending

a suppliant at her feet, and, at the last moment, admiring her character

as much as fearing the nature of the testimony he knew she could bring

against him, he declared his love for her and begged that they might be

married in open court.

Another depicted the sorrows she would be obliged to endure before her

affairs culminated. She would be watched, annoyed, harassed; but her way

would be well watched by the spirit-forms which were evidently floating

around promiscuously to protect the pests of society; and, whether she

got the man or not, she should share his fortune. This much could be

surely promised.

Another was wonderfully favored with divine "spirit light" upon the

subject--so favored, indeed, that time without number her other-life had

insensibly and unconsciously wandered away in search of correct

information regarding the result of the Winslow-Lyon suit, and, without

her volition or bidding, it had delved into the mysteries for her

suffering sister. She could assure her suffering sister, the clairvoyant

said, that Lyon was spiritually at her feet. All the trouble had arisen

between them from Mrs. Winslow's standing upon a higher spiritual plane

than Mr. Lyon. He, as was natural to man, had more of the sensual

element beclouding his spirit-life. Now, pleaded the clairvoyant,

couldn't she adjust an average between them? She was certain--yes, the

spirits, who never lie, had positively revealed to her that all that was

needed was some one to properly discover each of these affinities to the

other. In any case, all would eventually be well, and there was peace,

prosperity, and a large amount of money in waiting for her.

This sort of absurdity was related by Mrs. Winslow to an unlimited

extent that evening, as the three sipped the liquor she had provided,

and she insisted with great fervor that all these revelations strongly

corroborated the light she herself had received on the same subject.

As a long pause ensued after one of these heated asseverations, Bristol

ventured to ask how she had been enlightened concerning the matter.

Raising her flushed face towards the ceiling, then lifting her right arm

above her head and holding it there for a moment, she allowed it to

slowly descend with a coiling, serpentine motion, when she burst into a

sudden ecstasy of speech, movement and feature, and partly as in answer

to the inquiry, and partly as if struck with a swift and irresistible

inspiration, she said in a low, unearthly voice, and with weird effect:

"Yes, yes, I hear your angel voices calling; I see your beautiful forms;

I feel your tender fingers touching my aching head; I am listening to

your sweet, soft whispers. Ah! what is it you say?--yes, yes, yes! You

_are_ with me. You will watch over and guard me. You will ward off the

evil influences that surround me, and despite the darkness which

envelops me, even as the glorious sun leaps from his couch of crimson

and with his burnished lances drives the grim hosts of shadows before

him with the speed of the light!--What! are you now leaving?"

Here Mrs. Winslow gasped and kicked with her pretty feet alarmingly.

"What--what is that?--that rosy, effulgent light that fills all space?

Ah, yes! I see they beckon for me to look up, to not be cast down or

despair. I _will_ look up. See! in their hands are long, feathery wands

with which they sweep the flaming sky, while across its burnished arc I

see, yes, I see in letters of purple that oft-recurring

legend--_Twenty-five thousand dollars!_"

Now, although I am not arguing this question of Spiritualism, and am

only giving to the public the history so far as I dare of an

extraordinary woman and practical Spiritualist, I cannot resist asking

the question, or putting forward the theory, which, during the progress

of this case particularly, and a thousand times before and since in a

general way, has irresistibly forced itself into my mind. I give it in

all fairness, I am sure, and only with a view that it may dispel

certain feelings of squeamishness with which a good many people approach

the subject to investigate it. I may be accused of presenting it with

too little delicacy; but the public must recollect that the nature of my

business compels me _to get at the truth_ of things, and to do that,

matters must in a majority of cases be handled without gloves. This is

my only excuse, and perhaps it may be a good defence; but in any event

this is the question: Has there ever been a so-called Spiritual

"manifestation" that has not subsequently been explained as trickery by

persons more credible of belief than its medium or originator? After

that has been answered in the affirmative, for it can be answered in no

other way, all there is left of this Spiritualistic structure is, how

account for such exhibitions as that given by Mrs. Winslow and those

given by others of her craft, even granting their personal purity, which

is undoubtedly exceptional?

This is the question which has oftenest come into my mind in my

necessarily almost constant study of these people, and the answers,

though continually varying, have all eventually forced upon me the

conviction that this religion, as it is sacrilegiously called, only

takes hold of people of abnormal or diseased temperaments--people

diseased in mind, in morals, in body, or in all; and if that is true, as

I sincerely believe it to be, the dignifying of a disease or infirmity

as a religion is simply an absurdity too foolish for even ridicule.

She sat rigid as a church-spire for a few moments, as if the sight of

so much money, even if only in purple letters upon a burnished sky, had

transfixed her, and then, after a little hysterical struggling, became

as limp as a camp-meeting tent after a thunder-storm; and after a few

passes of her long, white and deft fingers over her eyes in a scared

way, asked, "Oh, gentlemen, where--where am I?"

"On the boundaries of the spirit-land," gravely replied Bristol, pushing

the bottle of liquor to the side of the table.

The woman was certainly exhausted, for she had worked herself into such

a state mentally--precisely the same as in all similar demonstrations,

whether visions are claimed to be seen, or not--that she was completely

enervated physically, and said in a really grateful tone, "Thank you,

Mr. Bristol," and, pouring out a large portion of liquor, tossed it off

at one gulp, like a well-practised bar-room toper.

"Yes, yes," she continued languidly, "I have a certain promise of

eventually being victorious. When the good spirits are with one, there's

no cause for fear."

"Not the slightest," affirmed Fox sympathetically.

"But it seems," replied Mrs. Winslow in a discouraged, desolate tone,

"as though everybody's hand is raised against me--as though the dreary

days pass so slowly--and that I haven't a true friend in the world!"

"My dear Mrs. Winslow," interrupted Bristol in a calm, fatherly, even

affectionate tone, "that melancholy's all very fine; but we are your

friends, and we will stand by you through thick and thin to the end of

the suit. A few fast friends, you know, are better than a thousand

sunny-weather friends."

"Oh, yes; oh, yes," returned the woman in a tone of voice that said, "I

can't argue this, but I somehow _know_ you are both betraying me," and

then, closing her eyes, and clasping her hands tightly together, sang in

a weird contralto voice, cracked and unsteady from her excitement and

exhaustion, some stanza of an evidently religious nature, the burden of

which was:

"I am weary, weary waiting

While the shadows deeper fall;

I am weary, weary waiting

For some holy voice's call!"

Undoubtedly the song, though desecrated by the singer, the place, and

the occasion, was a wailing plaint from the depths of the woman's soul,

for moments of utter desolation and absolute remorse come to even such

as she.

"Now," said Bristol, becoming suddenly interested, "I'm something of a

poet myself. When the seat of government was moved from Quebec to

Ottawa, I constructed a lampoon on the government that set all Canada

awhirl. Really, Mrs. Winslow, I'm surprised at your poetical nature."

"Poetical nature?" repeated the woman excitedly. "Why! that is what Lyon

loved in me most. My trance-sittings are wonderful exhibitions of

poetical power. In that state I can compose poems of great length and

power."

The gentlemen of course seemed incredulous at this statement, and

challenged her to a test of her poetical trance-power, which she

instantly accepted, the wager being a quart of the best brandy that

could be had in the city of Rochester.

Putting herself in position, she asked: "What subject?" Bristol replied,

"Lyon," when she struggled a little in her chair, kicked the floor a

little with her heels, rubbed up her eyes, gasped, and after a moment of

rest began to incant in a kind of monotone tenor:

"Oh, Lyon, Lyon! don't you run;

The suit's begun; we'll have our fun

Before we're done. I'll tell your son

That I have won, although you shun

Your darling one!"

"Oh, Lyon, pray, why speed away?

To fight a woman is but play.

Although you're old, and bald, and gray,

Do right by your Amanda J.--

You'll soon be clay!"

Amanda J. Winslow, for this was the woman's assumed name in full, might

have continued in this divine strain for an indefinite period, had not

the operatives burst into loud and prolonged laughter at her ludicrous

appearance, which so disgusted the woman that, though communicating with

celestial spheres, as she assumed to be, and undoubtedly was doing as

much as any of her craft ever did, she jumped up with a bound, savagely

told the men they were a brace of fools, and with a lively remark or

two, which had something very like an oath in it, went to bed, leaving

the men to finish the bottle and the poetry as they saw fit.

Mrs. Winslow was a thorough church-goer, and distributed the favor of

her attendance among the orthodox churches and the "meetings" of the

members of her own faith, quite fairly--perhaps, as was natural, giving

the Washington Hall Sunday evening Spiritualistic lectures a slight

preference; and soon after the Arcade affair, which had launched her

into poetry, she returned to the rooms one Sunday evening, declaring

that all her evil spirits had left her, and that her former passionate

love for Lyon had also departed, her only desire now being for his

money.

To show how thoroughly she had been dispossessed of her evil spirits,

she remarked that she now thoroughly hated Lyon, but it would not do to

let this appear on trial, or she would lose the sympathy of the jury.

Every effort should now be bent towards compelling him to divide his

wealth with her, whom he had so deeply wronged. There should be no

compromise; she would not even be led to the altar by him now. She would

have from him what would most annoy him, and that was his money.

Having resolved on this, the darkness that surrounded her was dispelled

and the spirits of light rallied as a sort of standing army; and in this

beneficent condition she wished to either go into the country to

recuperate for a few weeks, or seek the retirement of Fox's room and

there expend her superfluous brain and spirit power upon a play to be

entitled "His Breach of Promise." To this end she proposed removing the

elegant furnishings of her apartments and storing them in a spare room,

giving out to callers that she was absent from the city, and then, after

having secured Fox's room, she would be able to burn the midnight oil

unmolested so long as her inspiration might continue.

She also favored Fox and Bristol with a sketch of the play, which was to

be a sort of spectacular comedy-drama, which, according to the lady's

description, would contain certainly seven acts of five scenes each, and

would be preceded by a prologue which would play at least an hour; in

fact, it seemed that the great play "His Breach of Promise" was to be

constructed on the Chinese plan, to be continued indefinitely, and

admission only to be secured in the form of course tickets. Outside of

these great aids to the popularity of the play, it was to have the

additional startling and novel attractions of representations of her

first meeting with Lyon, his regret because she was married, his copious

tears whenever in her presence, his securing her divorce, the death of

Lyon's wife, and every manner of pathetic and ludicrous incident

connected with the case; how they each wooed and won the other,

including a grand transformation scene typical of Lyon's subsequent

treachery, and her reward of virtue in a fifty thousand dollar verdict

for damages.

The Spiritualists and the Detectives · 第 21 / 28 章