Part 19 (2/2)

Next morning I took the poor old gentleman's message, which began with an apology and regrets for disturbing me, but went on pathetically:

”You must forgive me, I was so very anxious to send a message to my wife, and I saw that you were a sensitive and could take it from me--I did not realise that it might cause you so much discomfort. That lady called me earth-bound, but if I am, it is only through my deep love for my dear wife, and I am permitted to watch over her. I was drawn here by my old affection for this house, and also by your presence here, knowing you could help me.”

He then gave the message, of which I can only remember that it was most touching in its expressions of deep affection and watchful care for his widow.

As we did not know this lady's present address, and could not procure it without raising inconvenient questions, my hostess and I settled that she should lock up the message, in the hope that some day we might be able to forward it.

A year later I had a most unpleasant experience of being made to feel seriously ill when I came down for a night from town, and as another clairvoyant a.s.sured me that this resulted from the message remaining undelivered and the poor old man's frantic endeavours to reach his wife's consciousness, I told my Wimbledon friend that something _must_ be done. Either she must procure the lady's address ”_coute que coute_,”

or I could not come down again to Wimbledon until this step had been taken.

Under pressure of this determination of mine the address was procured, and this led to a rather unpleasant experience.

I wrote a very courteous letter to the lady, enclosing the message, and explaining that I was quite debarred from visiting my Wimbledon friend until it was delivered, that I hoped, therefore, she would excuse my sending it, after more than a year's consideration of the question. I further intimated that although she might consider me a lunatic for my pains, I trusted there could be nothing to vex or hurt her in so touching an evidence of her husband's constant care and love, however little faith she might be disposed to place in the source from which the message was supposed to emanate.

The answer came as a shower bath on my unfortunate head.

The old lady (?) was furious. She had never heard of such wicked nonsense! ”_Her dear husband was quite the gentleman, both in clothes and appearance, and he was not old--not a day over sixty-eight--when he died_,” etc. etc.

It would have been amusing if it had not been rather pitiful to think of the poor ”young” man of sixty-eight trying so hard to reach such a termagant!

Later, I heard that the military man, through whom the old lady's address had been given to my Wimbledon hostess, had asked the husband of the latter if I were a lunatic, by any chance!

And this is how some of us welcome our friends from the other side of the veil! The marvel to me is that Love can still be stronger than Death, in face of such ingrat.i.tude and stupidity!

I have already mentioned my extreme sensitiveness to the atmosphere (psychic) of rooms, especially rooms where one sleeps. I find another instance of this in my notes.

I was paying a first visit to a friend in the south of England, and a very bright, cheerful room had been allotted to me there.

From the first night I felt a strong influence of a man in the room.

Kindly note that I do not say the influence of a _strong_ man; on the contrary, the character appeared to me that of an essentially weak man--weak rather than wicked--sensual as well as sensuous--self-indulgent, and greatly wanting in grit and will power.

My hostess had two sons, one whom I knew, and the other, living abroad, whom I had never met. The influence I felt was certainly not that of the son I knew, who was both manly and strong-willed, a fine soldier, and ”hard as nails,” as men would say.

I feared it might be the other son, however, and took an early opportunity of asking to see a photograph of the latter. My mind was quite set at rest. It was certainly not this man's influence that I had felt so strongly in my room.

Asking my hostess, _who_ had chiefly occupied the room, she said at once: ”Both my sons have slept there at different times,” adding, ”I am sure you have some of your queer ideas about the room--what is the matter with it?”

I told her; ”Now that I am quite convinced that neither of your sons is implicated, I will describe to you the character of a man whom I feel sure must have slept in that room and has left a strong psychic influence behind him.”

I then mentioned the characteristics already given, and one or two more which have escaped my memory.

My sceptical friend looked a little surprised. She said nothing at the moment, but crossed the room to a cabinet, whence she took a photograph of a man which I had never seen, and placed it in my hands.

”I am bound to confess,” she added, ”that you have exactly described the character of my brother-in-law, who certainly has occupied the room more than once.”

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