Round the Fire Stories

nsideration. And yet that something did occur, and that it was of a nature which will leave its mark upon every one of us for the rest of our lives, is as certain as the unanimous test

pared to corroborate every detail. I cannot obtain the sanc

d led him to the examination, and eventually to the acceptance, of those elusive phenomena which are grouped together with much that is foolish, and much that is fraudulent, under the common heading of spiritualism. His researches, wh

ring one? No phenomena could be relied upon which were produced at a guinea an hour. But, fortunately, Moir had discovered that his sister was mediumistic—in other words, that she was a battery of that animal magnetic force which is the only form of energy which is subtle enough to be acted upon from the spiritual plane as well as from our own material one. Of course, when I say this, I do not mean to beg the question; but I am simply indicating the theories u

nomena to which I have referred, and he was coming rapidly to the conclusion that what he had looked upon as an amusing romance and an after-dinner entertainment was really a very formidable reality. He is a man with a remarkably clear and logical brain—a true descendant of his ancestor, the well-known Scotch professor—and

h movement, thankful for any new sensation which would take me out of myself and open up fresh possibilities of existence. I am not an enthusiast myself, but I like the company of those who are. Moir’s talk, which made me feel as

noon tea with Mrs. Harvey Deacon. The two ladies and Deacon himself were standing in front of an unfinished picture of his upon the easel. I am not an expert in art, and I have never professed to understand what Harvey Deacon meant by hi

ink of it, Mark

,” said I. “These be

tures, heraldic emblems—a sort of

ite horse

as surprising, for he was a very good-humoured fell

is it,

s a unicorn. I told you they were her

said I, for he reall

at his own

ve been painting him in and painting him out, and trying to imagine what a real live, ramping unicorn wo

see the horn quite plainly, but I never saw a unicorn except beside the Royal Arms, and so I ne

d me. However, there’s an end of it until to-morrow.” He turned the p

itions, and introduced an element of suspicion. We knew that we could trust each other, but all our results were vitiated by the presence of an outsider. However, Moir soon reconciled us to the innovation. Monsieur Paul Le Duc was a famous student of occultism, a seer, a

a gentleman, and his curious little turns of English speech set the ladies smiling. Mrs. Deacon had a prejudice against our researches and left the room, upon which we lowered the lights, as was our custom, and drew up our chairs to the square mahogany

have sat in this fashion, and it is to me amusing

Delamere. “But I am always co

n out jumps your little spirit and in jumps another little spirit, and so you have direct talking or

hman was moving his head slowly round and sta

unicorns. Who has been thinking

“I have been trying to paint one

thinking of the

tain

you make a thing. You did not know it, hein? But I can see you

ate a thing which has never ex

lies under all other facts. That is w

se, upon the astra

ey are there—somewhere—everywhere—I cannot tel

not make us

he power is wanting. Let us see what power we have, and then

t it than we do,” said Harvey Deacon; “I w

she is, I next, and this gentleman beside me. Meester Moir will sit next to madame, because it is well

vantage of the

lso is light. We have the wires all for ourselves now—hein? You will n

we could just make out each other’s presence—very dimly and vaguely, it is true. I could see nothing else in the room—only

w round so large a table. You will compose yourself, madame, and if sleep should come

those physical symptoms with which previous séances had made me familiar—the coldness of the feet, the tingling 137in the hands, the glow of the palms, the feeling of a cold wind upon the back. Strange little shooting pains came in my forearms, especially as it seemed to me in my left one, which was nearest

the quick, thin breathing of a woman. Quicker and thinner yet it came, as

l right?” someone a

is in her trance. Now, gentlemen, if you will wait quiet you

p we were bridging, the half-raised veil of the eternal on the one side and the cabs of London on the other. The table was throbbing with a mighty pulse. It swayed steadily, rhythmically, wit

r,” said the Frenchman

y a luminous vapour rather than a light—which lay over the surface of the table. It rolled and wreathed and undulated in dim glimmering

he cried. “I

l the alphabe

a clumsy thing to tilt the table for every letter of the alphabet

l do better,”

ho spoke? Was th

did not

madame w

as not he

you, Mrs.

power which uses the organs of the

amere? It will not

plane of existence. She has take

are

I am one who has lived as you are livi

ntly over the table, dull elsewhere, but glowing into a dim luminosity in the direction of the medium. It seemed to be piling itself up in front of her. A sense of fear and cold struck int

g too far? Should we not bre

nest to see the end of it.

ould do this. Every new departure of knowledge has been called unlawful in its i

and proper,”

who was much excited. “Let us have a test. Wil

st do yo

coins in my pocket. Wil

eaching and of elevating, and

ime,” cried the Frenchman. “But surely this i

not a game,” said t

“I am sure I am very sorry if I have asked a foo

oes it

been a spi

es

w l

e as you do. Our cond

you h

es

wish to come

rtainl

you b

be happy if we

do y

he conditions are e

us no idea o

improvement and for the

e coming he

e if I can do any

good is yo

ct of all life

am, that should an

s had passed and onl

in in your l

s a thing o

ou ment

always be sa

riends whom you ha

of t

y some o

who are sy

ands mee

o have tr

the o

othing to e

e a spiritual

cour

we are do

n the righ

the wrong

ity and

m come o

seriou

sort o

orces over which y

l fo

loped f

dangerous. Dangero

etimes

d to grow blacker still, while the yellow-

uld like to ask, Moir

o you pray i

pray in ev

hy

knowledgment of force

n do you hold

exactly a

no certain

e only

English people, but they are not so much fun. It seems to me that with this power here

e more interesting t

I have heard all this before, and that to-night I should weesh to try some experiment with all this force which i

at silent in her chair. Only her 143deep, regular breathing sh

d the harmony. She

can tell—hein? For my part I wish to see

t th

ll let

would

ow you that which is only a thought. Yes, yes, I can do it and you will see. Now I ask

prehension which had lain heavily upon me at the beginning of the séan

, and there was a crack in his voice as he spoke wh

—a strange, shifty, luminous, and yet non-illuminating patch of radiance, bright itself, but throwing no rays into the darkness. It had changed from a greenish-yellow to a 144dusky sullen

has

s something

ight had been, something which breath

Le Duc, what

ll come.” The Frenchman’s vo

e animal in the room. Here it is, c

und of a blow upon some hard object. And then ...

every direction. It clattered and scrambled amongst us, rushing with horrible energy from one corner of the room to another. We were all screaming

light!” so

have matche

where are the matches? For

them. Here, you F

Dieu, I cannot stop it. Th

ore past me and butted with a fearful crash against the oaken partition. The instant that it had passed I turned the handle, a

n Heaven’s nam

hen the door opened.

on, Markham; the longer we wa

ed her swiftly out, and as we gained the door I looked over my shoulder into the darkness. There were two strange eyes glowing

g through!

our lives!” cri

as a long white spike, gleaming in the lamplight. For a moment

!” Harvey Deacon shouted.

nted across the hearthrug. Harvey Deacon was as white as a corpse, jerking and twitching like an epileptic. With a crash we heard the studio door fly to pieces, and the snorting

ok him roughly by the sho

er will pass. Th

ll—you unspeakable fool—wit

it would be frightened? It is mad with

rang up. “Good h

eam sounded th

ing out. If it’s the Evil O

d of it, at the foot of the stairs, Mrs. Deacon was lying senseless, s

side the room. Peeping and peering, our hearts in our mouths, we came to the very threshold, and stared into the darkness. There was still no sound, but in one direction there was also no darkness. A luminous, glowing cloud, with an incandescent centre, hov

e door broken, and the ladies frightened. But, my fr

said Harvey Deacon, “it will

ated by Harvey Deacon and John Moir), for what they are worth. You may, if it pleases you, imagine that we were the victims of an elaborate and extraordinary hoax. Or you may think with us that we underwent a very real and a very terrible experience. Or p