A Voyage to Arcturus

Montague Faull. The room was illuminated only by the light of a blazing fire. The host, eying him with indolent curiosity, got up, and the usual conventional greetings w

egard men from a special angle. Backhouse, on the contrary, was a novelty to the merchant. As he tranquilly studied him through half closed lids and the smoke of a cigar

way of starting the Conversation

esent, I t

pa

ctory? The materialisa

reason to

y guests to be disappointed. I have

will do q

s the time speci

ancy

flag. Faull sprawled in his

hear what arrange

are necessary, beyond c

of the seance room, t

host. “But this is not a

. . . . There will be ladies present, and l

ion. I only hope they will enj

e rathe

ull. Flicking his cigar into the fire,

ome and see

o have nothing to do with

is in the drawing room. She sometimes does me the

ghted,” said Ba

um took in her small, tight, patrician features and porcelain-like hands, and wondered how Faull came by such a sister. She received him

s, if you must know it, not so much the manifestation itself — though that will surely be wo

ed, looking around at the door, “an

. Jameson. She smiled rather absently

o attempt to carry into private life. Although well on the wrong side of seventy, his eyes were still disconcertingly bright

to see wond

r your autobiograp

servant is merely amusing himself in his retirement, Mr. Backhouse. Yo

no possible objection to your

said the old man, w

arked Mrs. Jameson, throwing a cur

he would. It’s

laced us all under a debt of gratitude. She has decorated the old lounge hall upstai

s Roman mag

s should be treated with mor

house — a poetic

hings to elemental simplicity. I raise no opposition, but I

. “An occasion like this ought to be simple, to guard against the possi

y opportunity will be given to all to inspect the room. I

le as an amateur prestidigitator. Backhouse was slightly acquainted with the latter. Prior, perfuming the room with the faint odour of wine and tobacco smoke, tried to introduce an atmosphere of joviality into the proc

y, genius, and so forth, considered in their mental aspects. His presence at such a gathering somewhat mystified the other guests, but all felt as if the object of their meeting had immediately acquired additional solemnity. He

h blood. Her tall, graceful body was most expensively attired. Kisses were exchanged between her and Mrs. Jameson. She bowed to the rest of the assembly, and stole a half glance and a smile at Faull. The latter gave her a queer look, and

lm. “Did you, or did you not, g

id Faull, laughing. “

d a couple of friends to join us. No, no one knows them. . . . The tw

sterious. Who are

names, you provoking gir

that of Nightspore. That’s nearly all that I know about

them up? You must have p

I swear I will tell you not another word about them. They will be

seems to, but, of course, we will all be very pl

It’s quite possible they may not turn

to start at once

The far end was thus concealed. The nearer half had been converted into an auditorium by a crescent of armchairs. There was no other furniture. A large fire was bu

as then exposed to view: the gloomy, massive architecture of the interior, the glowing sky above it in the background, and, silhouetted against the latter, the gigantic seated statue of the

s to step forward and examine the apartment as minutely as they might desire. Prior and Lang were the only ones to accept. The former wandered about among the pasteboard scenery, whistling to himself and occasionally tapping a part of it with his knuckles. Lang, who was in his element, ignored the rest of his

nything of a suspicious nature, the medium now re

mmediately see for yourselves. My reputation demands, however, that other people who a

ied that nothing mechanical was in Backhouse’s possession. The guests reseated themselves. Faull ordered two more chairs to b

of Mozart’s “temple” music pulsated through the air. The expectation of everyone was raised, while, beneath her pallor and composure, it could be seen that Mrs. Trent was

ir, and began speaking. The music instantly sank to pian

andle — and, for example, shake hands with. For this body will be in the human shape. It will be a real man or woman — which, I can’t say — but a man or woman without known antecedents. If, however, you demand from me an explanation of the origin of this materiali

s back on the assembly, and paused f

ant opened the door and announced in a subdued b

welcome the late arrivals. Backhouse

physique than most giants. He wore a full beard. His features were thick and heavy, coarsely modelled, like those of a wooden carving; but his eyes, small and black, sparkled with the fires of intelligence and audacity. His hair was short, black, and bristling. Ni

upper part of the building had collapsed. Faull sprang to the door, and called to the servant to say what was happening. The man had to be questioned twice before he gathered wha

se assembled had preserved his sangfroid, went str

u can expla

spore, in a harsh, muffled voice,

iliar phenomenon, but I ha

interest in the proceedings was now changed to strained watchfulness. Maskull and Nightspore took the places allotted to them. Mrs. Trent kep

ng wall between himself and the spiritual world was broken in many places. Through the gaps in his mind the inhabitants of the invisible, when he summoned them, passed for a moment timidly and awfully into the solid, coloured universe. . . . He could not say how it was brought about. . . . The experience was a rough one for the body, and many

bly thinner. The spectators almost forgot to breathe. The more sensitive among them began to feel, or imagine, strange presenc

t were rising from the ground. This slowly developed into a visible cloud, coiling hither and thither, and constantly

son quietly fainted in her chair, but she was unnoticed, and presently revived. The apparition now settled down upon the couch, and at the moment of doing so seemed suddenly to grow dark, solid, and manlike. Many of the guests were as pale as the

a young man. One smooth hand fell over, nearly touching the floor, white and motionless. The weaker spirits of the company stared at the vision in sick horror; the rest were grave

is chair and facing the party. Faull touched the bell.

approach the couch,” said

and stared awestruck at

erty to touch,”

the spectacle before her, and then not only touched the apparition but suddenly grasped the drooping hand in his own and gave it a powerful squeeze. Mrs. Trent gave a low scream. The ghostly visito

ed by another spell of faintness. Mrs. Trent ran forwar

ess hung together, for the sake of human society, but Nightspore paced up and down, like a man weary and impatient, while Maskull attempted to interr

d then stopped. None of Faull’s friends had ever seen him before. He was a thick, shortish man, with surprising muscular development and a head f

voice was piercing, and oddly disagreeable t

the intruder in astonishment. He took another few step

our host?” asked Faull sullenly. He thought that the even

aw. He thumped Faull on the back playfully — but the play was rather rough, for th

ening, m

youth, who was now beginning to wander about the room, in apparent unconsciou

as no r

st up to the phantom’s face. “You

a smile full of significance, whic

ou are doing,” sai

matter, sp

al violence toward that, as you seem inclined to

ng would be spoiled, wouldn’t i

th a double turn, twisted it completely round. A faint, unearthly shriek sounded, and the body fell in a heap to the floor. Its face was uppermost. The guests were unutterably shocked to observe that its expression had c

passing from the solid to the shadowy condition, and, before t

fronted the party, with a long, l

a wing of scenery, and handed him his check without a word. The medium put it in his pocket

ked his face up

all? Wouldn’t you like to see the land

ort of

pecimen

his huge hand. “Who are you,

Nightspore had moved a chair to the fire, and was

f he wants me,” he said

ith a humorous look. Walking over to Nights

ame old gnaw

manded Nightspore disdainfully

ne, and we are

d of whom are you speaking?” asked Maskull,

lanced over his shoulder. Maskull, following the direction of his eye, observed that