“My friends, I have a message for you to-night,” and continuing without hesitancy she delivered a somewhat tedious harangue to the listening believers, who sat awed and open-eyed, as if her words were really from the world beyond. All present knew Mrs. Jenkinson to be illiterate and only able to use provincialism in conversation. They marvelled at the correct English which fell from her lips, even though the thought expressed was of little value. Her “inspired” speech ended, Mrs. Jenkinson sank into a chair, dropped her face in her hands and remained quiet. A few moments later Mrs. McCleary began to manifest similar signs of influence, and sang in a sweet, plaintive voice the old hymn, “Oh, sing to me of heaven, when I am called to die! Sing songs of holy ecstasy to waft me to the sky,” etc. Mark remembered that Mrs. McCleary was not a singer in her natural state, and again was forced to marvel at this exhibition of power which he had no faith to believe emanated from the source prescribed by Russell. Donald, too, was becoming interested, and forgot the humorous side of the spectacle. When his eyes again sought Esther’s, to his surprise he found them fixed and vacant, her face unusually pale and rigid. He noticed, too, that the small, brown hand he held felt cold and unnatural. Glancing from her to Russell he saw the man looking fixedly at her. Then the Professor arose, and passing to Esther’s side moved his hands several times before her face, though without touching her. He then took a handkerchief from one of the gentlemen and bound it tightly over her eyes, closely shutting out every ray of light. “I think, my friends,” he said, as he placed several chairs in the unoccupied space of the room, “we shall prove that, though Esther cannot see with mortal vision, there are spirit forms about her who will direct her course and thus demonstrate their presence.” All sat in hushed expectancy until Esther, rising from her chair, glided like a phantom to the middle of the floor, and humming a soft, slow waltz, she floated about the room, avoiding the chairs and other articles in her way without losing step or breaking time in the least. It was wonderful. Mark would have been staggered in his scepticism had he not seen the same performance once enacted by a subject in the hands of a noted mesmerist. “This is only further proof of the scheming falseness of that villain Russell,” he reflected. “It shall not be my fault if he is not banished from my house from this day forth. If he would only attribute his power to the right source I could endure him, but spirits—bah!” For ten minutes the girl waltzed without interruption, then, as if led by unseen hands, she passed from the room and threw herself, apparently exhausted, upon a small lounge in the adjoining apartment. “She has been dancing with a stronger partner than herself and got tired out,” said Russell coarsely. “We’ll let her rest a while.”