“And who is Mrs. Carlile?” asked Ricardo, who had never heard the name before. “A patient and friend of mine! She had her hand amputated--I performed the operation under chloroform--and she never recovered from the anæsthetic. Look! don’t you see her arm is without a hand! Good Heavens! I never thought I should feel a thing like this! Have you any brandy? Can you get it? I feel as though I should faint!” The figure had retreated again by this time and Ricardo procured Steinberg what he asked for. As soon as he had drunk the stimulant, his courage returned. “Come back!” he cried, “dear Mrs. Carlile, my poor friend, come back and assure me of your forgiveness! Tell me that you know it was an accident due to the chloroform. It made me so unhappy! I did not sleep for weeks afterwards, thinking you might attribute your untimely death to my negligence. Poor girl! It was a crushing blow to me at the time.” The figure appeared for the third time, and waved its left hand and nodded its head, and the Professor declared he distinctly saw it smile. As for the Doctor, he was too prostrate for the moment to see anything. They waited for some time after that, in hopes that the spirit of Mrs. Carlile might return, but all was darkness. At last, just as they were thinking of breaking up the séance, a white-robed form again made its appearance on the threshold of the cabinet. “Mrs. Carlile!” cried the Doctor, in a fervent voice, “speak to me! Convince me of Immortality, and your forgiveness at one and the same time.” But there was no response. The spirit, whoever it might be, could not speak, but the head was turned towards the Professor. “Perhaps she could communicate better with you than with me!” said Steinberg. “Speak to her, Ricardo, ask her to give me some unmistakable token of her friendship and belief!” “Do not be afraid of us!” commenced Ricardo, in his gentle voice. “If you are Mrs. Carlile, give my friend here some sign that you have forgiven the past!” “That you are reconciled to your cruel fate,” interposed the Doctor, “that you did not mourn too much at leaving your husband and your infant children--that you know now that all things are ordered for the best and by a Wiser Law than ours.” But the figure kept its head turned in the direction of the Professor. At last, as though with a violent effort, it pronounced the word “Paolo” and immediately disappeared. Ricardo sank on his knees in an attitude of prayer. “Leonora!” he cried, “Leonora! I have found you at last.” Steinberg was about to address him, when they were startled by a sudden and violent knocking at the outer door. “Who is that?” asked Steinberg, whilst he whispered to his friend, “Calm yourself, Ricardo. Some one is asking for admittance. What is to be done?” The Professor started to his feet.