e _seance_ being in full swing, a spirit dressed
in some kind of white "sister's" dress appeared at the door of the
cabinet; and Mrs Stoddart Gray asked if anyone in the circle could speak
German, as this spirit did not seem to understand French, Italian, or
English, and she herself only recognised German by the sound.

A gentleman volunteered his assistance, but apparently without much
effect, and being a German scholar, I then offered to come to the
rescue. The moment I went up to the figure she seemed to gain strength,
and came quite out of the cabinet, and said to me in the most refined
German (any readers who have studied the language know that there is as
wide a difference between the highest and lowest type of German accent
as between an educated Irish "accent" and an Irish brogue):

"_Ich bin die schwester von Madame Schewitsch_," mentioning the name of
the foreign friend with whom I had been spending that afternoon: "_Ich
weisz das Sie Heute Nach mittag bei meiner schwester waren._"[1]

[1] Translation: "I am the sister of Madame Schewitsch--I know that you
spent this afternoon with my sister."

She had evidently a strong, almost overwhelming desire to make some
communication to me for her sister, but the difficulty in doing so
seemed equally strong.

It lay beyond the question of language. She spoke with sufficient
strength, and I could understand perfectly her well-chosen and
well-pronounced words. But some insuperable obstacle seemed to prevent
her telling me what she wished to convey, and the despairing attempt to
surmount this was painful in the extreme.

I assured her of my willingness to help in any way possible, and made a
few suggestions, but all in vain.

"Is it that you are not happy?"

"No--no! That is not it."

It seemed to me some sort of warning which she wished to convey, and had
some connection with illness, for the words _achtung_ and _krankheit_
(warning and illness) were repeated more than once, but no definite
message came.

I then asked if she could _write_ it, and she caught eagerly at the
idea. So I borrowed a pencil and some paper, and placed them on a small
table in the middle of the room, with a chair in front of it. She came
quite close to the table (five gas burners were more than half turned
on, so there was plenty of light), sat down, and took up the pencil, but
almost immediately threw it down again, saying in a most unhappy and
despairing voice: "_Nein! nein! Ich k