‘We see that all the explanations so far put forth are imperfect, and, for my part, I find them so imperfect, that I am inclined to believe in some other hypothesis which I do not know, which I cannot even guess, but which, nevertheless, I am convinced exists, since here we have real facts, which not any of the hypotheses heretofore presented can explain in a satisfactory manner. It is to this hypothesis _X_ that I attach myself, for the present, recognising, while doing so, that there is a certain amount of irony in proposing a hypothesis, of which I am unable to give the formula. ‘In conclusion, we see that this case of Antoine B. involves the whole problem of spiritism. It appeared to interest you, my friend, and I have, therefore, related it to you, because the simple and complete narration of facts ought to precede theories.’ _November 1903._ ‘MY DEAR MAXWELL,—The series of phenomena concerning Antoine B. do not cease with the recital I recently sent you. That recital comports an epilogue not less extraordinary than itself. I say an “epilogue,” for most assuredly it has some connection—of a psychological order—with the preceding recital. I will set it forth as concisely as possible: ‘One evening in May 1903 I was dining with Madame X. and her family. After dinner we tried for phenomena, but received nothing. Towards the close of the evening, shortly before I left, Madame X. pronounced the following words—words which I wrote down among my notes as soon as I reached home—“I see a woman standing near me; she has grey hair, she is about fifty years of age, but looks older than she really is. Her hair is quite grey. I believe it is Madame B.” (Antoine’s widow), “though I am not quite sure yet. I see the figure 7 with her, which probably means that she will die in seven months, or on the 7th of some near month.” Such is the copy of the very brief note I took of Madame X.’s words. I ought to add that this note is a much abridged account of Madame X.’s actual words, and that she also said:—“Madame B. is very ill; she has some sort of chest complaint—perhaps tuberculosis—and she will die very soon indeed.” ‘What renders this premonition extremely interesting is that Madame B., at that moment, was only very slightly ill. She was so slightly indisposed, that not for a moment did the thought ever cross my mind, that her indisposition might turn into anything serious. Neither I nor any one in the world suspected any danger whatsoever. But fifteen days after this prognostication had been made, the apparently slight bronchial affection from which Madame B. was suffering, and of which I had, naturally, never said a word to Madame X., remained stationary, but still the idea that the result might prove fatal never entered into any one’s head.