Part 39 (1/2)
”I've had a beautiful evening.”
”To say that after we have tied you hand and foot till you were numb, and kept you in the dark all the evening, is very gracious of you. I feel very much the brutal host. But you must come again. I swear Kate shall not pester you next time.”
Kate was indignant. ”Well, I like that! when _you_ were the one crazy to experiment. Of course they're coming, coming to stay to-morrow night, and any one who dares to talk ghosts to her will be sent to bed.”
And so in a hearty, cordial clangor of farewells they got out into the hall, and Morton, seeing Viola in her handsome cloak, her eyes s.h.i.+ning, her face once more gay and smiling, was again filled with wonder at her astounding resiliency of mood. It was as if two sharply differentiated souls alternated in the possession of her body.
Clarke, wearing a cape overcoat and a soft hat, was far less admirable in appearance than when, with head uncovered, he sat within. He resembled a comic picture of an old-fas.h.i.+oned tragedian--a man glad to feel the finger of remark directed towards him, but his face was bitter, his eyes burning with anger, his lips white with pain.
Serviss relented as he studied him. ”You'd better take Britt's trail and return to the mountains,” he said, kindly. ”This is a bad climate for you.”
”My work is here,” he replied, curtly. ”I have no fear,” and so they parted.
Weissmann was sitting in silent meditation in one corner of the dining-room when Serviss returned. ”Well, master, what do you think of to-night's performance?”
Weissmann replied, in ironical phrase: ”Hearing in civilized man is vague and indefinite. Spooks do well to limit their manifestations to a sense which most powerfully appeals to the imagination.”
Morton spoke with great earnestness. ”Weissmann, that girl could not move a limb. She positively remained where we put her. So far as I am concerned, to-night's test eliminated her from the slightest complicity, and I confess it rejoices me greatly; but who was responsible for the prestidigitation?”
Weissmann replied, slowly: ”It is very puzzling,” and fell into a muse which lasted for several minutes. At last he roused to say: ”Well, we will see. Next time Clarke and the mother must be eliminated.”
”You don't think evil of her?” exclaimed Morton.
”She is very anxious, you know--”
Kate put in her word. ”It's all very simple,” she said; ”the spirits did it. You needn't tell me that Clarke or Mrs. Lambert got up and skittered around the room doing those things. I held their hands--and know they didn't get away. Besides, how did that gla.s.s come there? and how could they make those voices sound so natural? What is the use of being stupidly stubborn? If you treat Viola fairly she will confound your science.”
”You base all this on one imperfect test?”
”I don't know what you'd call a _perfect_ one. Anyhow, that child is absolutely honest.”
”I hope you are right, Kate; but there are some serious discrepancies--even in to-night's performances. Nothing took place which I could not do sitting in her chair with my hands free.”
”But her hands weren't free! If there is any virtue in cotton fibre or steel she remained precisely where we set her at the beginning.”
”But to admit that one book was moved from its place is to admit that a force exists unknown to science.”
”But what are you going to do? Did you do it? Or did I? Did Clarke reach from where he sat and manipulate the horn? Who brought the old wine-gla.s.s from the china-closet? No one entered from the outside--that is certain. And then the things 'Loggy' said?”
”What do you think, Dr. Weissmann?”
Weissmann looked up abstractedly. ”If Clarke performed these feats to-night he is wasting his time in any profession but jugglery. You said the cone touched you?” he asked of Morton.
”Several times.”
”To do that he must have left his seat.”
”I am perfectly sure he did not,” replied Kate, firmly.
Morton insisted. ”He must have done so, Kate--there is no other explanation of what took place. It was very dark and the rug soft.