It was about a year that they worked thus; then first one man, and soon the other, became weary and discouraged, and left. The cave was still as far distant as ever; faith had grown weak, and hope, which formed so tempting a breakfast, seemed about to prepare a very poor supper. It is about this time that we find how great is the power of perseverance. Mr. Marble, after the other men had left, continued the work for some time with his only son, a young man about twenty years of age. And thus, it was after working a year by the guidance of mesmerism, that we find him consulting the first _clairvoyant medium_, and this led him into the mystic labyrinths of spiritualism, or spiritual philosophy. The grounds which the medium took were substantially these: that when, by the action of his friend’s mind, he was rendered unconscious, some disembodied spirit took possession of him, and told what living people did or did not know. He told Mr. Marble how to work in the hole he had excavated, and, at one time, foretold a circumstance which was of considerable importance. It was that within a certain number of hours he would find a something to encourage him. It did not tell what, and the number of hours included a week’s time. Four days after that, an ancient-looking, rusty sword, with a leather-wound haft and a brass-bound scabbard, was found in a large seam inside the rock. Soon after being exposed to the air, the leather upon the handle crumbled away, and the thick, blue mould on the brass began to wear off. The chasm in the rock is still shown to visitors, and the prints where the sword lay in the clayey soil were once to be seen, but have since been removed, in the hopes of finding more relics. This was a great event to build a hope upon, and it had its full effect on the spirits of those interested. Dungeon Rock soon became a place of particular interest to mediums. The well-known Mrs. Pike paid it a visit; also Mrs. Freeman, who had, on a former occasion, directed Mr. Marble to go to a certain street and number, in the city of Boston, where he would find an aged, bed-ridden woman, who would be of use to him. He went, and discovered Madame Lamphier, to whom he made known his errand as one who had come to have his fortune told. “Fortin’! who says I tell fortins’?” was the spiteful ejaculation that greeted him. “Well, what do you tell?” he asked, convinced that she was the one he sought. “Why, I have a stone that I look in, and if any one has any business, it generally comes up here,” she replied, doggedly. “Well, I should like to have you look into it for me,” he said, in a conciliatory manner.