"Thank you very much; yes, I shall be glad to go." I opened the door for her and she blew me a kiss from the stairs. I returned to my work, but it was very little I was able to do the rest of that afternoon. What could have induced Miss Ottley to arrange this séance? Were her nerves giving way under the strain of Dr. Belleville's threats? Did she really believe this rascal Navarro capable of predicting events? Was she becoming superstitious? These reflections profoundly disturbed me. Chapter XVII The Séance Navarro evidently belonged to the highest and most ingenious order of charlatanry. He had no assistant, no machinery, no accomplice. It was almost impossible to suspect any of the audience. There were only Lady Helen, Miss Ottley, Mrs. Greaves (wife of a Parliamentary Undersecretary), the Countess von Oeltzen (the Austrian Ambassador's wife), Weldon, Hubbard, the Count von Oeltzen and myself present. And the medium scouted the idea of turning down the lights. He left such devices to impostors, he remarked. He was a tall, thin fellow, with big, black eyes and a thick-lipped mouth. He had the most beautiful hands and feet. His fingers were covered with valuable diamond rings. He had a big bulbous nose and he wore a _tire-boucheau_ moustache and beard consisting of about sixteen coarse stiff black hairs; four on each side of his upper lip and eight on his chin. He plucked at the latter continually in order to display his hands and his rings. It would have been a difficult matter to find his match in vulgarity, in ugliness, and impudence. But he was certainly impressive. He talked of himself in a booming baritone, like a Barnum praising an elephant. He adored himself and expected to be adored. He spoke with a strong Irish-Spanish accent. Probably he was an Irishman who had lived in Spain. But he posed as a full-blooded Castilian who had learned English from a Cork philomath.