Mrs. Deane, the person attacked, is a somewhat pathetic and forlorn figure among all these clever tricksters. She is a little, elderly charwoman, a humble white mouse of a person, with her sad face, her frayed gloves, and her little handbag which excites the worst suspicions in the minds of her critics. Her powers were discovered in the first instance quite by chance. When she first pursued the subject her circumstances were such that her only dark room was under the kitchen table with clothes pinned round it. None the less, she produced some remarkable pictures under these conditions, one of which fell into my hands, and I at once concluded that she had real powers. The portrait was of a young man in life, with a female spirit face behind him. This might well have been faked. Something seemed to be emerging from the young man’s head, however, and on observing this object with a lens I distinguished that it was a small but correct representation of the Assyrian fish-god, Dagon, wearing the peculiar hat with which that deity is always associated. This was so entirely the kind of freakish result which I expect from spirit photography, and was so removed from the normal powers of a charwoman, that I provisionally accepted her in my mind as a true medium, a position from which I have never been compelled to budge. I still retain this photograph, but the little head is too small for satisfactory reproduction. Mrs. Deane (or Mrs. Deane’s control) has one embarrassing habit which I believe to be unnecessary, and which makes it very difficult to convince the sceptic, or, indeed, to prevent him from writing her down as an obvious fraud. Far from insisting that you bring your own plates, as Hope does, she likes them to be sent to her in advance, and she does what she calls “magnetising” them, by keeping them near her for some days. This is so suspicious that it can hardly be defended, but here, again, there is an element of fanatical obedience. My own personal belief is that her results are perfectly honest, that they are actually formed in the shape of psychographs during the days before the sitting, and that if her plates were examined before they were exposed to light, the pictures would be found already on them. This, of course, would very naturally be taken as clear proof of fraud by the superficial investigator, ignorant of the strange possibilities of psychic photography, but I believe myself that the psychic effect is a perfectly genuine one, but that the extra will very probably bear no relevancy to the sitter. I am speaking now of her general routine, for how can I guarantee every particular case or judge what a medium may do when dealing with so evanescent and elusive a thing as psychic power? When they have it they use it—when it fails them the human element may come in.