clumsy suspicion of some of the witnesses, the frivolous aestheticism
of others, were equally obnoxious to his grim, bursting heart; but he
was obliged to live, and, to pay his way, must put up with these
impertinences.

He sat down facing the wooden couch. His eyes remained open but
seemed to look inward. His cheeks paled, and he became noticeably
thinner. The spectators almost forgot to breathe. The more
sensitive among them began to feel, or imagine, strange presences all
around them. Maskull's eyes glittered with anticipation, and his
brows went up and down, but Nightspore appeared bored.

After a long ten minutes the pedestal of the statue was seen to
become slightly blurred, as though an intervening mist were rising
from the ground. This slowly developed into a visible cloud, coiling
hither and thither, and constantly changing shape. The professor
half rose, and held his glasses with one hand further forward on the
bridge of his nose.

By slow stages the cloud acquired the dimensions and approximate
outline of an adult human body, although all was still vague and
blurred. It hovered lightly in the air, a foot or so above the
couch. Backhouse looked haggard and ghastly. Mrs. Jameson quietly
fainted in her chair, but she was unnoticed, and presently revived.
The apparition now settled down upon the couch, and at the moment of
doing so seemed suddenly to grow dark, solid, and manlike. Many of
the guests were as pale as the medium himself, but Faull preserved
his stoical apathy, and glanced once or twice at Mrs. Trent. She was
staring straight at the couch, and was twisting a little lace
handkerchief through the different fingers of her hand. The music