“By Jove!” exclaimed Steinberg in French, “I do believe the old woman imagines we intend to seduce this poor child! Heavens! what an idea! With all the beautiful women you see in Town, to fancy one ever bestowing a thought in that way upon this ungainly, uncouth girl! Your landlady is not so cute in this as in most things, Ricardo!” “I only hope she may not prove to be _too_ cute,” replied his friend, “I fear she smells a rat, as the English say--that is, that she has a strong suspicion what we are about, and if that is so, she will put a stop to it.” Their colloquy was interrupted by seeing Hannah suddenly leave her seat and going to the séance chamber, pass in to the darkness beyond, without a word, closing the door after her. “Why! what is she about, now? This is quite a new departure,” exclaimed the Doctor, “shall we follow her, or remain here?” “I think we had better remain here, and lower the gas,” said Ricardo, “perhaps James will tell us what to do. Fancy! Hannah going into that dark room of her own accord! She has refused even to look into it before!” “She did not go of her own accord,” replied the Spirit Voice, “I sent her. Lower the gas more. Leave only a glimmer! That’s right! Now open the séance room door a little, and take your seats at the further end of the room and wait! Some one is coming to see you to-night!” The two men did as was desired of them, whilst the Professor was putting up an inward prayer that the “some one” who was coming, might prove to be Leonora. “No! it isn’t,” answered the Voice, which now appeared to proceed from the dark chamber which they thenceforth called the “cabinet”--“don’t you be in such a hurry to see Leonora, Professor! You’ll have more than enough of her, when she does come. It is not any one whom you know, as far as I am aware, but it is not the medium. Mind that!” And then the Voice ceased, and for half an hour all was silence. Then Steinberg, nudging the Professor, whispered, “What is that?” Ricardo glanced towards the cabinet, and perceived a faint filmy figure standing beside the half-opened door. “Can it be James?” he whispered back again. They were too much awed to speak aloud. The figure shook its head. “Who are you? Cannot you come nearer to us? Cannot you give us your name?” urged Steinberg, and in his anxiety to learn more, he left his seat and approached the cabinet. The figure instantly disappeared. “Forgive me!” he said, as he rejoined his friend, “I have stupidly been the means of that figure disappearing. I ought not to have left my chair, but my curiosity got the better of me. I hope it will come again.” A few minutes’ patience was rewarded by the same apparition standing in the doorway, and holding out, as it seemed, its hand toward the Doctor. Steinberg, not daring to move again, stared through his glasses at the outstretched arm, and then sinking suddenly towards the Professor, he leant heavily upon his shoulder, and exclaimed, “My God! It is Mrs. Carlile!”