"Spirits? What absolute bosh! Miss Bubbles has been pulling your leg,
Varick. And yet one would like to know who has been at the bottom of it
all--whether, as you say the butler evidently believes, it is the _chef_
himself, or, as the _chef_ told you, one of the under-servants. In any
case, I hope no one will suppose that that sort of thing can be owing to
a supernatural agency."
"Yet John Wesley did so suppose when that sort of thing happened in the
Wesley household," came in the quiet voice of Sir Lyon.
The three men--Dr. Panton, Sir Lyon, and Lionel Varick--were taking a
walk along the high road. It was only eleven o'clock, but it seemed much
later than that to two of them, for all the morning they had been busy.
An hour of it had been taken up with a very close examination of the
servants, especially of the respectable butler and of the French _chef_.
They had both professed themselves, together and separately, as entirely
unable to account for what had happened in the night. But still, it had
been clear to the three who had taken part in the examination--Blanche
Farrow, Varick, and the doctor--that the butler believed the _chef_ to
be responsible. "It's that Frenchman; they're tricky kind of fellows,
ma'am," the man had said in a confidential aside. And, though the _chef_
was less willing to speak, it was equally clear that he, on his side,
put it down to one of the under-servants.
Then, quite at the end of the interrogation, they had all been startled
by not only the _chef_, but the butler also, suddenly admitting that
something very like what happened last night had happened twice before!
But on the former occasions, though everything in the kitchen had been
moved, including the heavy centre table, nothing had been broken. Still,
it had taken the _chef_ and his kitchen-maids two hours to put
everything right. That had happened, so was now revealed, on the very
morning after the party had just been gathered together. And then,
again, four days ago.
Miss Burnaby, who had slept through everything, exclaimed, when the
happenings of the night before were told her by Mr. Tapster, "The place
seems bewitched! I shall never forget what happened yesterday afternoon
to Helen." Turning to Dr. Panton, she continued: "My niece actually
believes that she saw a ghost yesterday!"
Helen said sharply, "I thought nothing was to be said about that,
Auntie."
Meanwhile the doctor stared at her, hardly believing the evidence of his
own ears. "You thought you saw a ghost?" he said incredulously.
And Helen, turning away, answered: "I would so much rather not speak
about it. I don't want even to think about it ever again!"
An hour later, as Panton and Sir Lyon stood outside the house waiting
for Varick, the doctor said a word to the other man: "A most
extraordinary thing happened here yesterday. Miss Brabazon apparently
believes she saw a ghost."
"Did she tell you so herself?" asked Sir Lyon quietly.
"No, her aunt mentioned it, quite as if it was an ordinary incident.
But I could see that it was true, for she was very much upset, and said
she would rather not speak of it."
They had then been joined by their host, and when once through the gate,
the doctor's first words had proved that his mind was still full of all
that had happened in the night.
"Surely _you_ don't put down what happened last night to a supernatural
agency?"
He was addressing Sir Lyon, and though he spoke quite civilly, there was
an under-current of sarcasm in his pleasant, confident voice.
"At one time I was very deeply interested in what I think one may call
the whole range of psychic phenomena," replied Sir Lyon deliberately,
"and I came to certain very definite conclusions--"
"And what," said Varick, with a touch of real eagerness, "were those
conclusions?"
Till now he had not joined in the discussion.
"For one thing, I very soon made up my mind that a great deal of what
occurs at every properly conducted séance can by no means be dismissed
as 'all bosh,'" answered Sir Lyon.
"Do you consider that the séance which took place the first evening you
were here was a properly conducted séance?" asked Varick slowly.
"Yes--as far as I was able to ascertain--it was. I felt convinced, for
instance, that Laughing Water was a separate entity--that was why I
asked her to pass me by. To me there is something indecent about an open
séance. I have always felt that very strongly; and what happened that
evening in the case of Mr. Burnaby of course confirmed my feeling."
Varick uttered under his breath an exclamation of incredulous amazement.
"D'you mean that you believe there was a _spirit_ present? It would take
some time to do it, but I think I could _prove_ that it was what I took
it to be--thought-reading of quite an exceptional quality, joined to a
clever piece of acting."
"You'd find it more difficult than you think to prove that," said Sir
Lyon quietly. "I've been to too many séances to be able to accept that
point of view. I feel sure that Miss Bubbles was what they call
'controlled' by a separate entity calling herself 'Laughing Water.' But
if you ask me what sort of entity, then I cannot reply."
Panton turned on him: "Then you're a spiritualist?" he exclaimed. "Of
course I was quite unaware of that fact when I spoke just now."
There was an underlying touch of scorn in his voice.
"No, I do not call myself a spiritualist. But still--yes, I accept the
term, if by it you mean that I believe there is no natural explanation
for certain of the phenomena we have seen, or heard of, in the last
twenty-four hours."
He purposely did not allude to what had happened between tea and dinner
in the hall last evening, but he felt certain that it was very present
to Varick himself.
"I spoke just now of the curious occurrences in the Wesley household,"
he observed, turning to the young doctor. "That, of course, is the most
famous case on record of the sort of thing which took place in the
kitchen last night."
"But why," cried Varick, with a touch of excitement, "why should all
these things happen just now at Wyndfell Hall? I know, of course, the
story of the haunted room. But most old houses have one respectable
ghost attached to them. I don't mind the ghost Pegler fancies she
saw--but, good heavens, the place now seems full of tricksy spirits!
Still, it's an odd fact that none of the servants, with the one
exception of Miss Farrow's maid, have seen anything out of the way."
Here the doctor broke in: "That's easily accounted for!" he exclaimed.
"I understand from Miss Farrow that her maid--a remarkable person
without doubt--has held her tongue ever since she saw, or thought she
saw, a ghost. But if the other servants knew everything we know, there'd
be no holding them--there'd be no servants!"
"Of course, I admit that in the great majority of instances those who
think they see what's commonly called a ghost probably see no ghost at
all," said Sir Lyon thoughtfully. "They've heard that a ghost is there,
and therefore they _think_ they see it."
"Then," said Varick, turning on him, "you don't believe Pegler did see
the ghost of Dame Grizel Fauncey?"
Sir Lyon smiled. "I daresay you'll think me very illogical, but in this
one case I think Pegler _did_ see what is commonly called a ghost. And
I'll tell you why I think so."
Both men turned and looked at him fixedly, both in their several ways
being much surprised by his words.
"I have discovered," said Sir Lyon in a rather singular tone, "that this
woman Pegler saw nothing for the first few days she occupied the haunted
room."
Panton stared at the speaker with an astonished expression. "What
exactly do you mean to imply?" he asked.
Sir Lyon hesitated. He was, in some of his ways, very old-fashioned. It
was not pleasant to him to bring a lady's name into a discussion. And
yet he felt impelled to go on, for what had happened in the hall
yesterday afternoon had moved and interested him as he had not thought
to be interested and moved again.
"The woman saw nothing," he said, slowly and impressively, "till Miss
Dunster arrived at Wyndfell Hall. I take that to mean that Miss Dunster
is a very strong medium."
"A medium?" repeated the doctor scoffingly. "Who says medium surely says
charlatan, Sir Lyon--not to say something worse than charlatan!"
Sir Lyon looked thoughtfully at the younger man. "I admit that often
mediums are charlatans--or rather, they begin by being mediums pure and
simple, and they end by being mediums _qua_ charlatans. The temptations
which lie in their way are terrible, especially if, as in the majority
of cases, they make a living by their--their"--he hesitated--"their
extraordinary, as yet misunderstood, and generally mishandled gift."
"Do you mean," asked Varick gravely, "that you believe Bubbles possesses
the power of raising the dead?"
Sir Lyon did not answer at once, but at last he said firmly: "Either the
dead, or some class of intermediate spirits who personate the human
dead. Yes, Varick, that is exactly what I do mean."
All three men stopped in their now slow pacing. Dr. Panton felt too much
surprised to speak.
Sir Lyon went on: "I think that Miss Bubbles' arrival at Wyndfell Hall
made visible, and is still making visible, much that would otherwise
remain unseen."
As he caught the look of incredulous amazement on the doctor's face, he
repeated very deliberately: "That is my considered opinion. As I said
just now, I have had a very considerable experience of psychic
phenomena, and I realized, during that séance which was held the first
evening I spent here, that this young lady possessed psychic gifts of a
very extraordinary nature. There is no doubt at all, in my mind, that
were she a professional medium, her fame would by now be world-wide."
Perhaps it was the derisive, incredulous look on the young medical man's
face which stung him into adding: "If I understand rightly"--he turned
to Varick--"something very like what I should call an impromptu
materialization took place in the hall yesterday--is that not so?"
There was a pause. Twice Varick cleared his throat. Who had broken faith
and told Sir Lyon what had happened? He supposed it to have been Miss
Burnaby. "Though I was present," he said at last, "I, myself, saw
absolutely nothing."
"I, too, have heard something of it!" exclaimed Dr. Panton, looking from
one of his two now moved, embarrassed, and excited companions to the
other. "And you were actually present when it happened, Varick?"
As the other remained silent, he turned to Sir Lyon. "What was it
exactly Miss Brabazon thought she saw?"
Sir Lyon, after a glance at Varick's pale, set face, was sorry that he
had mentioned the curious, painful occurrence; and, though he was a
truthful man, he now told a deliberate lie. "I don't know what the
apparition purported to be," he observed. And he saw, even as he was
uttering the lying words, a look of intense relief come over Varick's
face. "But to my mind Miss Brabazon evidently saw the rare phenomenon
known as a materialization. Miss Bubbles was lying asleep in the
confessional which is almost exactly opposite the door through which one
enters the hall from the house side, thus the necessary conditions were
present."
"I wish _I_ had been present!" exclaimed the doctor. "Either I should
have seen nothing, or, if I had seen anything, I should have managed to
convince myself that what I saw was flesh and blood."
As neither of his two companions said anything in answer to that
observation, Panton went on, speaking with more hesitation, but also
with more seriousness than he had yet shown: "Do I understand you to
mean, Sir Lyon, that you credit our young fellow-guest with supernatural
gifts denied to the common run of mortals?"
"I should not put it quite that way," answered Sir Lyon. "But yes, I
suppose I must admit that I do credit Miss Bubbles with powers which no
one as yet has been able to analyze or explain--though a great many more
intelligent people than has ever been the case before, are trying to
find a natural explanation."
"If that is so," asked the doctor, "why have you yourself given up such
an extraordinarily important and valuable investigation?"
"Because," said Sir Lyon, "I consider my own personal investigations
yielded a definite result."
"And that result--?"
"--was that what I prefer to call by the old term of occultism makes for
evil rather than for good. Also, I became convinced that the practice of
these arts has been, so to speak, put 'out of bounds'--I can think of
no better expression--by whatever Power it be that rules our strange
world."
He spoke earnestly and slowly, choosing his words with care.
"If your theory contains a true answer to the investigations which are
now taking place," exclaimed the doctor, "there was a great deal to be
said for those mediaeval folk who burnt sorcerers and witches! I suppose
you would admit that they were right in their belief that by so doing
they were getting rid of very dangerous, as well as unpleasant, elements
from out of their midst?"
The speaker looked hard at Sir Lyon. Nothing, as he told himself, with
some excitement, had ever astonished him, or taken him so aback, as was
now doing this conversation with an intelligent, cultivated man who
seemed to have broad and sane views on most things, but who was
evidently as mad as a hatter on this one subject.
And then, before Sir Lyon had perchance made up his mind what to answer
exactly, Varick's voice broke in: "Yes," he observed, smiling a little
grimly, "that's the logical conclusion of your view, Dilsford. You can't
get out of it! If a human being really possesses such dangerous powers,
the sooner that human being is put out of the way the better."
"No, no! I don't agree!" Sir Lyon spoke with more energy than he had yet
displayed. "Everything points to the fact that those unfortunate
people--I mean the witches and sorcerers of the Middle Ages--could have
been, and sometimes were, exorcised."
"Exorcised?" repeated Panton. He had never heard the word "exorcised"
uttered aloud before, though he had, of course, come across it in
books. "Do you mean driving out the devil by means of a religious
ceremony?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes," said Sir Lyon, "I do exactly mean that. As you are probably
aware, there is a form of exorcism still in common use. And if I were
our host here, I should have Wyndfell Hall exorcised, preferably by a
Roman Catholic priest, as soon as Miss Bubbles is safely off the
premises."
The doctor again looked sharply at the speaker--but no, Sir Lyon
evidently meant what he said; and even Varick seemed to be taking the
suggestion seriously; for "That's not a bad idea," he muttered.
The three men walked on in silence for a few moments.
"It would be interesting to know," observed Sir Lyon suddenly, "what
Miss Farrow conceives to be the truth as to her niece's peculiar gifts.
I fancy, from something she told me the other day, that she hasn't the
slightest belief in psychic phenomena, I wonder if she feels the same
after what happened yesterday and last night?"
"I can tell you exactly what Miss Farrow thinks," interposed Varick. "I
had a word or two with her about it all this morning, after we'd
examined the servants in the white parlour."
"What _does_ she think," asked Sir Lyon. He had always been interested
in Blanche Farrow, and, in a way, he was fond of her.
"She thinks," said Varick, a little hesitatingly, "that Bubbles, in
addition to her extraordinary thought-reading gift, has inherited from
her Indian ancestress a power of collectively hypnotizing an
audience--of making people see things that she wants them to see. That's
rather awkwardly expressed, but it's the best I can do."
"I quite understand," broke in the doctor. "You mean the sort of power
which certain Indian fakirs undoubtedly possess?"
"Yes," said Varick. "And, as I said just now Bubbles has got Indian
blood in her veins. One of her ancestors actually did marry an Indian
lady of high degree, and Bubbles is descended from one of the children
of that marriage."
"I think that may account for the potency of her gift," said Sir Lyon
thoughtfully, "though, of course, many Europeans have had, and now
possess, these curious powers."
"But though, in a sense, spiritualism is no new thing, even those who
believe in it admit that it has never led to anything," observed Varick
musingly.
"Very rarely, I admit; but still, sometimes even a dream has contained a
revelation of sorts. Thus it is on positive record that a dream revealed
the truth as to what was called the Murder of the Red Barn."
"Can I take it that you do believe the dead return?" asked the doctor
abruptly.
"I think," said Sir Lyon deliberately, "that certain of the dead desire
ardently to return--not always from the best motives. As to whether they
themselves are permitted to come back, or whether they are able to use
other entities to carry out that purpose, I am still in doubt."
As he spoke he saw a curious change come over Lionel Varick's face. The
rather set smile with which he had been listening to the discussion gave
way to an odd expression of acute unease. But at this particular moment
it was not Varick with whom Sir Lyon was concerned, but with the frank,
eager, pleasant-faced, young doctor, in whose estimation, as he
realized, he was falling further and further down with every word he
uttered.
"To tell you the honest truth," he went on, "even in the days when I did
little else than attend séances and have sittings with noted mediums,
not only in this country but also on the Continent, I could never quite
make up my mind whether the spirit with whom I was in communication was
really the being he or she purported to be! There was a time," he spoke
with some emotion, "when I would have given anything--certainly most
willingly twenty years of my life--to be so absolutely convinced. But
there it is," he sighed, and was himself surprised at the feeling of
depression which came over him. "Even the most earnest investigation of
the kind resolves itself always, after a while, into a kind of
will-o'-the-wisp that leads no-whither."
"Not always," exclaimed Panton sharply. "Last year I had a patient who'd
become insane owing to what I suppose you would call an investigation
into psychic phenomena."
"And yet," said Sir Lyon rather sternly, "to your mind, Dr. Panton, a
pursuit which you admit was capable of leading one unfortunate human
being into insanity, is 'all bosh'!"
"Of course I could only go by what the poor lady's friends told me,"
Panton said uncomfortably. "She was not under my care long. But I need
hardly tell you, Sir Lyon, that any obsession that takes hold of a human
being may in time lead to insanity."
"I suppose that, according to your theory"--it was now Varick who was
speaking, speaking rather lightly, twirling his stick about as he
spoke--"I suppose," he repeated, "that, according to your theory, if
Bubbles Dunster left Wyndfell Hall to-morrow, the spirits would cease
from troubling, and we should be at rest?"
"No, that doesn't exactly follow. I once heard of a case which
interested me very much. A house which had never been haunted before--as
far as anyone knew--became so, following on the sojourn there of a
professional medium, and it remained haunted for four years. Then,
suddenly, all the psychic phenomena stopped."
"What a strange thing," said Panton, with an under-current of irony in
his voice; "but doubtless the owner had had the house exorcised, as you
call it?"
"No," said Sir Lyon thoughtfully. "No, the house had not been exorcised.
As a matter of fact, the medium was killed in a railway accident."
They walked on, and fell to talking of indifferent things. But though
Sir Lyon had at one time held many such conversations with sceptical or
interested persons, this particular conversation will never be forgotten
by him, owing to a strange occurrence which happened in the afternoon of
that same day. But for two fortunate facts--the bravery of young
Donnington, and the presence of a clever medical man--the pleasant
comedy in which they were each and all playing an attractive part would
have been transformed into a peculiarly painful tragedy.