"The Spirit World."

Evening Post, Volume LXXI, Issue 142, 16 June 1906, Page 10

" The Spirit World."

"I shall see him to-night," the little old lady said to me, and there was a strange thrill in her voice. "You are sure— quite sure?" I asked unwillingly. "There is no doubt)," she answered' with gentle reproach. Our cab" rolled on through the greasy streets, and the houses loomed dimly through the xaw fog. It was one of London's gloomiest winter .nights, and my spirits sank ; but the face of the little old lady by my side shone with an almost spiritual radiance. Was she not/ going to see and to converse with her only son who had been killed while defending the colours of his regimnt against a wild horde of Zulus a quarter of a century ago ? The cab drew up sharply before a, dismal-looking house. We climbed tine narrow stairs, and, .pushing open a curtained door, entered into an atmosphere « intense and nervous tension. A rough deal table stood in the middle of the room, and a lady witfh yellow hair, who seemed to pieside over the gathering, hovered near. The medium, a shabbylooking, sad-eyed man, with a striking aquiline profile, was sitting at the table, surrounded by a group of people witlh eager faces, who were talking in hushed voices. ' My thoughts wandered from the bare room and the heavy atmosphere to the house where my littl& old lady lived her lonely life wrapped in tflie memories of her gallant young soldier. Then they took a sudden turn, and I seemed to see the face of my little sister who had died fifteen years before. The face was so distfmct that I forgot my surroundings until I was startled back to reality by a voice saying, "We are' all here now ; the doors ,can be shut." We took our seats round the tlable, sang a hymn, and prayed — my little old lady, who was on my left, joining fervently. Then we all clasped hands, thus forming the "current," which we were Hold must be kept unbroken. The lights were turned down and we were plunged into black darkness out of which floated low whisperings. Suddenly the soft notes of an organ, which I had notJ noticed, as it was screened from view by heavy curt Jains, throbbed mysteriously; then there was profound silence, followed by a slight vibration and some fuint taps on the table. "Ifc is the medium; he is going into a trance," whispered the voice of the girl who was sitting on my right. Through the blackness, , the extlreme tension of the nerves of the sitters could be palpably felt, and I grew curiously restless as again the soft) notes of the organ seemed to make the heavy air pulsate. k "S-s-h !" whispered some one from the far end of the table. "Wlut was thatl?" There was the silence of listening. I strained my eyes, but the blackness was complete. "There are epiribs about ; don't you feel a cold air blowing 'on your hands?" whispered a woman's voice. The girl next me shivered. ''Yes," she murmured; and my "hands grew chill as a ghostly wind passed over them. "Let us sing another hymn ; it will help .the spirits," said some one ; and again the voices rose mv unison out of the darkness; then fell, and there was a long silence. "Look — do you see a faint light — there — high up on the left?" whispered my little old lady, excitedly pressing my hand. "Where, where?" I exclaimed, as an involuntary shudder Tan through me ; but I could see nothing. "There is a spirit) behind you, Mr. Martin," said a voice ; j. "I can see the luminous radiance." "Yes, I know ; I can feel it," he answered quietly, and the girl next me again trembled violently. The table shook slightly, and a faint! ball of light appeared above our heads, while a curious, cracked Toice invoked God's blessing on us. "That is the control we call 'Grandfather,' " whispered my little old lady. "Grandfather, the epiritb are so long coming to-night; are we sitting right?" asked the lady with tlhe yellow hair. "I think not," answered the weird voice. "Shall I change places with Mr. Forester?" There was a pause, then three diebinct taps. "That means 'Yes' " continued the lady. "Let us change places, but be careful not to break the circle." Several changes were thug made, the spirits answering the questions by taps; then once more we settled down, and a deep silence fell upon us. Suddenly a full, melodious man's voice rang out in the darkness, \"God bless you nil." / "lhat is James M Queen, a great leader of spirits ; he is very denr tto us," whispered my neighbour, and then she added quickly, "Look, he is materialising!" Above the table the draped head of a man was dimly silhouetted against a luminous slafe. The dark, handsome face moved to each person in tuin and blessed 'them; then the luminous background came down on to the table with a sharp sound and the vision disappeared. "What a magnificent head ; is it not a beautiful materialisation?" whispered some one ecstatically, as bhe sharp twanging of a zither-like instrument resounded through the room. "Who is that playing?" asked a voice. "I don't) know the touch. Are you Balfe?" The three affirmative taps came in reply, and the twanging zither all at once sounded* 1 high above our heads, and then seemed to circle round us, finally falling on the table with a crash. There was eilence again, and then the face of a man- appeared before my little old lady. I felt her hand shaking. "Is it you, my darling?" she whispered, and her voice was full of love. The / spirit bowed its head. "I am so glad to see you, dearest," she continued, dropping her voice lower, and I tried not to hear what she said to the spirit, who answered in almost inaudible monosyllublea. "Will you come again to me on Thuroday, darling?" I heard her whisper eagerly ; but the luminous backgioiind fell to the table, and thcie wa6 nothing but black darkness. 'Thut wua he— my boy," she said, and her voice quivered. "It is such a joy to see hiu dear face ; ho is so good, he almost always appears to me." "S-s-h ! Someone has come for Misu Mttudsley," taid a voice, and we heard whispers through the darkness. "Yes, Mother, dear, I see you quite plainly. What did you sny? Thank you, dearest. Yes, on Thursday," and then the crash of the slate. Again the vision of ray little sister's face, with her laughing eyes and cmrling hair, n»e before mo. "Will she come?" I wondered, and I hardly hoard a wonderful boas voice, though my neighbour said it was that of Lublache, who often came and song for them. ' The slate raised itself again, and in front of me. My heart gave a bound, and in the blurred shape before me I seemed, for v. moment, to see my sister's face. "It is she I" 1 said aloud involuntarily as the slate fell. "Oh! won't she come again? I want to see her co i much." My heart was beating vildr". "Margaret^ won't you come again? ' I plead-

ed, forgetting in the darkness that thbro were others to hear me. "Won't uhafc spirit try and come again?" asked voice of the lady with the yellow hair, in a tone of command. Did her voice break the spell and cause my emotion to abate? Slowly the slate was raised, and again the shadowy blur was outlined against it. I bent forward and gazed into the dim features. "It's a child's face," whispered my little old lady to her neighbour. "Yes ; a dear little baby face," answered someone, The elate fell, and James M'Queen's melodious voice said, "Poor little child, she was so anxious to appear; but as she had never materialised before it was difficult for her." % "Yes ; that is why she was indistinct," said the lady of the yellow hair ; "first materialisations generally are weak. "Poor little angel !" said a voict with a slight Cockney accent; and I shuddered, for I had seen not the face I had looked for, but that of the medium draped with wMte to hide the mouth. "I am so glad she came to you," said my little old lady softly. "Yes," I answered dully, and soon after the table shook and deep sighs filled the air, as though someone wire in pain. "The medium is coming out qf his trance," my neighbour whispered, and the table shook again "Are you all right?" asked the anxious voice of the lady with the yellow hair. There was a pause ; then the medium uttered a deep sigh. "Yes— all right," he said faintly. "We can unjoin hands; no evil will follow now," said the same voice in brisker tones. The lights were turned up/ and we eat for a moment in dazzled silence. . . The lady of the yellow hair hurried up to me. "Has it interested you?" she asked as my eye 6 mechanically rested on the fan, the megaphone, the zither-like instrument, and the luminous slates which had been placed on the table before the seance began. Their significance I now realised. "It is wonderful," I answered, thinking of human credulity and not of the evening's manifestations. ' "The next sitting is on Thursday at nine o'clock, and the fee is fifteen shillings. I hope you will assist," said the lady of the yellow hair." — Violette Londa, in the Westminster Gazette.