A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS. By David Lindsay CONTENTS Chapter 1. THE SÉANCE Chapter 2. IN THE STREET Chapter 3. STARKNESS Chapter 4. THE VOICE Chapter 5. THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE Chapter 6. JOIWIND Chapter 7. PANAWE Chapter 8. THE LUSION PLAIN Chapter 9. OCEAXE Chapter 10. TYDOMIN Chapter 11. ON DISSCOURN Chapter 12. SPADEVIL Chapter 13. THE WOMBFLASH FOREST Chapter 14. POLECRAB Chapter 15. SWAYLONE’S ISLAND Chapter 16. LEEHALLFAE Chapter 17. CORPANG Chapter 18. HAUNTE Chapter 19. SULLENBODE Chapter 20. BAREY Chapter 21. MUSPEL Chapter 1. THE SÉANCE On a March evening, at eight o’clock, Backhouse, the medium—a fast- rising star in the psychic world—was ushered into the study at Prolands, the Hampstead residence of Montague Faull. The room was illuminated only by the light of a blazing fire. The host, eying him with indolent curiosity, got up, and the usual conventional greetings were exchanged. Having indicated an easy chair before the fire to his guest, the South American merchant sank back again into his own. The electric light was switched on. Faull’s prominent, clear-cut features, metallic-looking skin, and general air of bored impassiveness, did not seem greatly to impress the medium, who was accustomed to regard men from a special angle. Backhouse, on the contrary, was a novelty to the merchant. As he tranquilly studied him through half closed lids and the smoke of a cigar, he wondered how this little, thickset person with the pointed beard contrived to remain so fresh and sane in appearance, in view of the morbid nature of his occupation. “Do you smoke?” drawled Faull, by way of starting the conversation. “No? Then will you take a drink?” “Not at present, I thank you.” A pause. “Everything is satisfactory? The materialisation will take place?” “I see no reason to doubt it.” “That’s good, for I would not like my guests to be disappointed. I have your check written out in my pocket.” “Afterward will do quite well.” “Nine o’clock was the time specified, I believe?” “I fancy so.” The conversation continued to flag. Faull sprawled in his chair, and remained apathetic. “Would you care to hear what arrangements I have made?” “I am unaware that any are necessary, beyond chairs for your guests.” “I mean the decoration of the siance room, the music, and so forth.” Backhouse stared at his host. “But this is not a theatrical performance.” “That’s correct. Perhaps I ought to explain.... There will be ladies present, and ladies, you know, are aesthetically inclined.” “In that case I have no objection. I only hope they will enjoy the performance to the end.” He spoke rather dryly. “Well, that’s all right, then,” said Faull. Flicking his cigar into the fire, he got up and helped himself to whisky. “Will you come and see the room?” “Thank you, no. I prefer to have nothing to do with it till the time arrives.”