Part 2 (1/2)
”He was a famous pirate,” Nancy replied. ”According to tradition, when burying treasure, he always murdered one of his band and left his ghost to guard the hidden loot!”
As the girls left the restaurant and started up the street, Nancy happened to turn around. Emerging from the door of the restaurant was a woman.
”Girls,” Nancy said in a whisper, ”don't look now, but the woman who was on the plane just came out of our restaurant. I think she was spying on us!”
”Why would she do that?” Bess asked.
”If she follows us, then I'll be convinced she's trying to find out what we're up to in New Orleans,” Nancy replied.
To prove her point, the young sleuth turned down one street and up another. The woman did the same.
”I'm going to try something,” Nancy said quietly. ”Two can play this game.”
It was easy for the girls to dodge into three different shops as they rounded another corner. Their pursuer, confused, stood on the sidewalk for several seconds, then turned and walked back in the direction from which she had come. Cautiously Nancy emerged, then Bess and George.
The girls trailed the woman for several blocks. Though there were many pedestrians on the street, they were able to keep their quarry in sight. Apparently she was in a hurry, for she walked quickly, not once slackening her pace. As they rounded a corner, she suddenly disappeared into an alley, Nancy darted forward, just in time to see the woman enter a building.
When she and her friends reached it, Bess was not in favor of continuing the search. Nancy insisted the place was innocent-looking enough, and walked through the open arch. In the distance the girls could hear low singing.
They proceeded down a dimly lighted hall, and in a moment the girls stood beside the door beyond which the singing was coming. A placard on it read: Church of Eternal Harmony.
Bess, intrigued, lost her fears and urged that they go inside. Nancy hesitated. At that moment the door opened. A man with long white hair and a beard invited them to enter.
”Our admission is reasonable,” he said, smiling. ”Only two dollars. If the spirit speaks, your questions will be answered.”
Still Nancy hesitated. She realized now that a seance was going on inside. Having no desire to spend two dollars so foolishly, she was about to retreat, when Bess walked boldly into the room beyond. George followed, and Nancy was forced to go along.
After paying admission they seated themselves on a bench near the door. The singing had ceased, and as the girls' eyes grew accustomed to the dim lights, they could see that a number of people sat on benches scattered about the place.
On one wall hung a life-size portrait of a woman swathed in white veils up to her eyes. Long dark hair fell below her shoulders. Every face in the room was upturned, gazing at the portrait.
Presently the white-bearded man announced that all would have to help summon her spirit.
”Let us sit around this table,” he intoned.
Bess stood up to go forward, but Nancy pulled her back to the bench. Several others in the room arose and seated themselves on chairs around an oblong table. The old man took his place at the head of it, his back against the wall, a few feet beyond the portrait.
”Let no one utter a sound,” he requested.
Silence fell upon the room. Nancy strained her eyes toward the table, watching intently. The white-bearded man sat perfectly still, looking straight ahead of him. Presently a smile flickered over his face.
”I feel the spirits approaching,” he said in a scarcely audible voice.
The words were hardly out of his mouth when three raps were heard. The old man, looking pleased, interpreted the sounds as meaning, ”I am here,” and invited the partic.i.p.ants to ask the spirit for answers to their problems. He explained that one rap would mean Yes, two No, and five would mean that danger lay ahead and the questioner should take every precaution to avoid it.
For several seconds no one spoke. The spirit gave three more sharp raps. Then, shyly, a woman at the table asked: ”Will my child be ill long?”
There came two sharp raps, and the questioner gave a sigh of relief. Another silence followed. Nancy felt Bess lean forward. Out of the corner of her eye, Nancy had noted that her friend was completely entranced by what was going on. Realizing that Bess was about to ask a question, and fearful she might say something about Mrs. Putney's mystery, Nancy leaned over and whispered into her friend's ear: ”Please don't say anything!”
”Silence!” ordered the old man at the table. ”Do you wish to drive away our friendly spirit? Ill luck follows him who disturbs the work of the spirit.”
As he spoke, the dim lights faded out. The room was in complete darkness.
Suddenly, on the wall above the portrait, a faint glow appeared. It grew larger, until the whole portrait seemed to be taking form. Bess and George, seated on either side of Nancy, huddled close to her.
Bess nervously clutched her friend's arm until Nancy winced from the pressure. The next moment the three girls gasped.
The portrait had come to life!
The white-bearded man arose from his chair.
”Good people,” he said, ”Amurah has come to us to speak. But she will answer only the most important questions. Approach no closer, or her lifelike spirit will vanish on the wind.”
”Oh, Amurah, tell me, please,” implored a young woman from a far corner of the room, ”if Thomas comes back to me, shall I marry him?”
Amurah lowered her eyes, then nodded.
”Oh, thank you, thank you,” the young woman exclaimed, delight in her voice.
Again Nancy could feel that Bess was about to ask a question. Quietly she laid a finger across the girl's lips. The light around the portrait began to fade.
”Alas, the spirits are leaving us!” the white-bearded medium interpreted.
A few seconds later the lights came on in the room. The old man, arising, made a low bow to the portrait, then announced he regretted that the spirits had not been able to remain long enough to answer the questions of all those present.
”Should you wish further knowledge,” he said, ”you may seek it from Norman Towner, a photographer, who has a direct connection with the spirit world. From time to time messages appear upon Mr. Towner's photographic plates.”
The man ushered his clients from the room, but not before each of them had paused to look at Amurah. George had the temerity to touch the canvas. There was no question but that it was only a portrait. Upon reaching the street, the three girls paused.
”Wasn't it wonderful!” Bess exclaimed, adding that they should go at once to the studio of Norman Towner.
”Nonsense,” George said. ”You've already spent two dollars and got nothing for it.”
”That's because Nancy wouldn't let me ask a question,” Bess argued. ”Maybe I'll get an answer when I have my picture taken.”
To George's amazement, Nancy encouraged the visit. Not having seen the woman they had followed to the seance. Nancy felt she might have gone to the studio.
By inquiring for directions from pedestrians, the girls arrived at length at a courtyard entered by means of a long pa.s.sageway. At one side of it a flight of iron stairs led to a carved door which bore the photographer's sign.
”Up we go!” George laughed, starting ahead.
The studio, though old and a bit shabby, was well furnished. The proprietor, a short man with intent dark eyes and an artist's beret c.o.c.ked over one ear, appeared so unusually eager that the girls wondered if he had many customers.
Nancy inquired the cost of having individual photographs made. The price was reasonable, so the three friends decided upon separate poses.
After the pictures had been taken, the photographer disappeared into the darkroom. Soon he returned with two dripping plates. The pictures on them of George and Bess were excellent. To Bess's disappointment, however, not a trace of writing appeared on the gla.s.s.