it. "See--it crumbles into ashes," he cried. Then he came back to
the middle of the room, close to the green light, rolled up his
sleeve, and held his arm before Sir Charles. There, in blood-red
letters, my brother-in-law read the name, "Charles Vandrift," in
his own handwriting!

"I see how that's done," Sir Charles murmured, drawing back. "It's
a clever delusion; but still, I see through it. It's like that
ghost-book. Your ink was deep green; your light was green; you made
me look at it long; and then I saw the same thing written on the
skin of your arm in complementary colours."

"You think so?" the Seer replied, with a curious curl of the lip.

"I'm sure of it," Sir Charles answered.

Quick as lightning the Seer again rolled up his sleeve. "That's
your name," he cried, in a very clear voice, "but not your whole
name. What do you say, then, to my right? Is this one also a
complementary colour?" He held his other arm out. There, in
sea-green letters, I read the name, "Charles O'Sullivan Vandrift."
It is my brother-in-law's full baptismal designation; but he has
dropped the O'Sullivan for many years past, and, to say the truth,
doesn't like it. He is a little bit ashamed of his mother's family.

Charles glanced at it hurriedly. "Quite right," he said, "quite
right!" But his voice was hollow. I could guess he didn't care to
continue the seance. He could see through the man, of course; but it
was clear the fellow knew too much about us to be entirely pleasant.