the beautiful and solemn strains of Mozart's "temple" music pulsated
through the air. The expectation of everyone was raised, while,
beneath her pallor and composure, it could be seen that Mrs. Trent
was deeply moved. It was evident that aesthetically she was by far
the most important person present. Faull watched her, with his face
sunk on his chest, sprawling as usual.

Backhouse stood up, with one hand on the back of his chair, and began
speaking. The music instantly sank to pianissimo, and remained so
for as long as he was on his legs.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness a materialisation.
That means you will see something appear in space that was not
previously there. At first it will appear as a vaporous form, but
finally it will be a solid body, which anyone present may feel and
handle--and, for example, shake hands with. For this body will be
in the human shape. It will be a real man or woman--which, I can't
say--but a man or woman without known antecedents. If, however, you
demand from me an explanation of the origin of this materialised
form--where it comes from, whence the atoms and molecules composing
its tissues are derived--I am unable to satisfy you. I am about to
produce the phenomenon; if anyone can explain it to me afterward, I
shall be very grateful.... That is all I have to say."

He resumed his seat, half turning his back on the assembly, and
paused for a moment before beginning his task.

It was precisely at this minute that the manservant opened the door
and announced in a subdued but distinct voice: "Mr. Maskull, Mr.
Nightspore."