"Carl--" Emmeline began, and paused.

The woman indubitably did affect me strangely. Hers was a lonely soul,

an unusual mixture of the absolutely conventional and of something

quite else--something bizarre, disturbing, and inexplicable. I was

conscious of a feeling of sympathy for her.

"Well?" I murmured.

"Do you believe in the supernatural?"

"I neither believe nor disbelieve," I replied, "for I have never met

with anything that might be a manifestation of it. But I may say that

I am not a hard and fast materialist." And I added: "Do you believe in

it?"

"Of course," she snapped.

"Then, if you really believe, if it's so serious to you, why do you

make a show of it for triflers?".

"Ah!" she breathed. "Some of them do make me angry. They like to play

at having dealings with the supernatural. But I thought the crystal

would be such a good thing for Sullivan's reception. It is very

important to Sullivan that this should be a great success--our first

large public reception, you know. Sullivan says we must advertise

ourselves."

The explanation of her motives was given so naïvely, so simply and

unaffectedly, that it was impossible to take exception to it.

"Where's the crystal?" I inquired.

"It is here," she said, and she rolled a glass ball with the

suddenness that had the appearance of magic from the dark portion of

the table's surface into the oval of light. And it was so exactly

spherical, and the table top was so smooth that it would not stay

where it was put, and she had to hold it there with her ringed hand.

"So that's it," I remarked.

"Carl," she said, "it is only right I should warn you. Some weeks ago

I saw in the crystal the face of a man whom I did not know. I saw it

again and again--and always the same scene. Then I saw you at the

Opera last week, and Sullivan introduced you as his cousin that he

talks about sometimes. Did you notice that night that I behaved rather

queerly?"

"Yes." I spoke shortly.

"You are the man whom I saw in the crystal."

"Really?" I ejaculated, smiling, or at least trying to smile. "And

what is the scene of which I am part?"

"You are standing--But no!"

She abruptly ceased speaking and coughed, clearing her throat, and she

fixed her large eyes on me. Outside I could hear the distant strain of

the orchestra, and the various noises of a great crowd of people. But

this little dark room, with its sharply defined oval of light, was

utterly shut off from the scene of gaiety. I was aware of an

involuntary shiver, and for the life of me I could not keep my gaze

steadily on the face of the tall woman who sat so still, with such

impressiveness, on the other side of the table. I waited for her to

proceed, and after what seemed a long interval she spoke again: "You aren't afraid, are you?" she demanded.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024