still and
quiet--looking, watching the old man curiously and half humorously
under his heavy eyebrows.

"And I understand," went on the other, "that tonight you are to make
an attempt at complete materialization. Very good; then after tonight
it may be too late. I have tried to appeal to the boy: he will not
hear me. And you too have refused to hear me out. I could give you
evidence, if you wished. Ask this gentleman how many cases he has
known in the last five years, where complete ruin, body and soul--"

The medium turned a little to the fire, sighing as if for weariness:
and at the sound the old man stopped, trembling. It was more obvious
than ever that he only held himself in restraint by a very violent
effort: it was as if the presence of the medium affected him in an
extraordinary degree.

Lady Laura glanced again from one to the other.

"That is all, then?" she said.

His lips worked. Then he burst out--

"I am sick of talking," he cried--"sick of it! I have warned you. That
is enough. I cannot do more."

He wheeled on his heel and went out. A minute later the two heard the
front door bang.

She looked at Mr. Vincent. He was twirling softly in his strong
fingers a little bronze candlestick that stood on the mantelpiece: his
manner was completely unconcerned; he even seemed to be smiling a
little.

For herself she felt helpless. She had taken her choice, impelled to
it, though she scarcely recognized the fact, by the entrance of this
strong personality; and now she needed reassurance once again. But
before she had a word to say, he spoke--still in his serene manner.

"Yes, yes," he said. "I remember now. I used to know Mr. Cathcart
once. A very violent old gentleman."

"What did he mean?"

"His reasons for leaving us? Indeed I scarcely remember. I suppose it
was because he became a Catholic."

"Was there nothing more?"

He looked at her pleasantly.

"Why, I daresay there was. I really can't remember, Lady Laura. I
suppose he had his nerves shaken. You can see for yourself what a
fanatic he is."

But in spite of his presence, once more a gust of anxiety shook her.

"Mr. Vincent, are you sure it's safe--for Mr. Baxter, I mean?"

"Safe? Why, he's as safe as any of us can be. We all have nervous
systems, of course."

"But he's particularly sensitive, isn't he?"

"Indeed, yes. That is why even this evening he must not go into
trance. That must come later, after a good training."

She stood