Part 21 (1/2)

”Yes,” panted Rainey, ”both of them. But something put its hand on my forehead. It was cold.”

In an excited whisper, a voice in the circle cried, ”Look, look!” and before the eyes of all, a star rose in the darkness. For a moment it wavered over the cabinet and then fluttered swiftly across the room and remained stationary above the head of the German Professor.

”There is your star, Professor,” cried Vance. ”When the Professor is in the circle,” he announced proudly, ”that star always appears.”

He was interrupted by a startled exclamation from Lee.

”Something touched my face,” explained the young man apologetically, ”and spoke to me.”

The music sank to a murmur, and the room became alive with swift, rus.h.i.+ng sounds and soft whisperings.

The voice of Mrs. Marsh, low and eager, could be heard appealing to an invisible presence.

”The results are marvelous,” chanted Vance, ”marvelous! The medium is showing wonderful power. If any one desires to ask a question, he should do so now. The conditions will never be better.” He paused expectantly.

”Mr. Hallowell,” he prompted, ”is it your wish to communicate with any one in the spirit world?”

There was a long pause, and then the voice of Mr. Hallowell, harsh and shaken, answered, ”Yes.”

”With whom?” demanded Vance.

There was again another longer pause, and then, above the confusion of soft whisperings, the voice of the old man rose in sharp staccato; ”My sister, Catherine Coates.” His tone hardened, became obdurate, final.

”But, I must see her, and hear her speak!”

Not for an instant did Vance hesitate. In tense, sepulchral tones, he demanded of the darkness, ”Is the spirit of Catherine Coates present?”

The whisperings and murmurs ceased. The silence of the room was broken sharply by three quick raps. ”Yes,” intoned Vance, ”she is present.”

The voice of Hallowell protested fiercely. ”I won't have that! I want to see her!”

In the tone of an incantation, Vance spoke again. ”Will the spirit show herself to her brother?” The raps came quickly, firmly.

”She answers she will appear before you.”

There was a moment that seemed to stretch interminably, and then, the eyes of all, straining in the darkness, saw against the black velvet curtain a splash of white.

Above the sobbing of the organ, the voice of Mr. Hallowell rang out in a sharp exclamation of terror. ”Who is that!” he demanded. He spoke as though he dreaded the answer. He threw himself forward in his chair, peering into the darkness.

”Is that you, Kate?” he whispered. His voice was both incredulous and pleading.

The answer came in feeble, trembling tones. ”Yes.”

The voice of Hallowell shook with eagerness. ”Do you know me, your brother, Stephen?”

”Yes.”

With a cry the old man fell back, groping blindly. He found Gaylor's arm and clutched it with both hands.

”My G.o.d! It's Kate!” he gasped. ”I tell you, Henry, it is Kate!”

The voice of Vance, deep and hollow like a bell, sounded a note of warning. ”Speak quickly,” he commanded. ”Her time on earth is brief.”

Mr. Hallowell's hold upon the arm of his friend relaxed. Fearfully and slowly, he bent forward.