"I'm glad you didn't tell them. I wanted to test whether that ghostly grandfather would inform them. I'm mightily obliged to you, professor," he said, after a pause, and his eyes were moist with his emotion. "I never had a child of my own, and I'm fond of Viola. I've always resented this mediumistic business--she's too fine to be spoiled by it--but she wasn't mine, and Julia was so wrapped up in the faith I couldn't stop it. Then Clarke came, and Julia minded what I said no more than if I'd been a chipmunk. So I climbed into the hills and stayed there." "You believe in your daughter's powers?" "In her powers, yes; but not in every voice that speaks through her. Have you attended any of her sittings?" "We had one in my house last night. I laid the burden of the performance to Clarke. He was the juggler." "Oh no, you're wrong there. I have cause enough to hate Clarke, but he's honest. No, the power is all in Viola. I've had those things go on with nobody but Julia and the girl in the room. No, Clarke is a crazy fool in some ways, but he don't cheat." His words were so direct, so weighted with conviction, that their force staggered Serviss, causing him to doubt his new explanation. Tolman's generalizations ceased at the moment to convince. Lambert went on. "I suppose she _is_ committed to him. She wrote me that she guessed she might as well; so long as she was a medium nobody else would ever want her--or something like that. I feel guilty, I'll admit, but you see how it was. The girl belongs to Julia, and since Clarke came into the family our correspondence has been pretty well confined to checks on my part and receipts on hers; but she's had plenty of money, professor. There wasn't any need of her going into anybody's house. She could have gone to the best hotels--" "I don't see how you could have acted differently," said Serviss, with intent to comfort. "But I am sure that Viola"--he spoke the name with a little hesitation--"will eagerly go with you now. She begins to doubt Clarke and to realize the fearful mental peril in which she stands." "That's what I don't understand, professor. This spiritualistic faith is mighty pretty on the face of it, but it seems to unhinge people's minds. I've known two or three to go 'locoed' with it; that's what kept me from interfering. It isn't for miners to monkey with; but I was in hopes that you would go into it. In fact, I was in hopes you'd got sort o' interested in Viola, and she in you, and that you'd help her someway." "I am interested in her," replied Serviss, quickly, "and I want to help her; but so long as she is where she is, and acknowledges Clarke's claims, I can do nothing.--Here we are!" As they drew up before the looming front of Pratt's house the miner whistled, "Must be one of those Wall Street pirates we read about. Nothing spirit-like about this castle, eh?" "Nor about its lord."