University of Virginia Library

32. CHAPTER XXXII.
LIGHT FROM DARKNESS.

Mr. Gray had sat in silence during this scene.
The manifestation was new to him and it impressed
him deeply, but his habits of careful inquiry
into evidence of all kinds led him to seek
an explanation from any source but that which
seemed to offer itself. He had never heard Mr.
Shaw address his daughter as “my little princess,”
but it was within the bounds of possibility
that some other person had, and prepared
a scene in furtherance of some design which he
could not penetrate.

The table from which Mrs. Rhodes read or
seemed to read the electrical words was a perfect
blank to him. In fact, in the darkness he
could not see the table at all, but the sense of
touch furnished ample proof that it was there.

“Do you recognize me, Mr. Shaw?” he now
asked.

“Yes, John, I am never mistaken in a face.”

“Do you remember the last words you spoke
to me?”

“These are the last words I spoke on earth:—
`They—have—no—one—else!”'

The lawyer wiped the perspiration from his brow.
The scene in the office rose up before him, when Mr.
Shaw, in the grasp of death, had bequeathed his family
to him to support.

Regina's hand crept softly into his, and her head
rested on his shoulder.

“It is papa,” she whispered: “I know it is.”

But the lawyer could not have all his preconceived
notions upset so suddenly. Intellectual dignity would
not permit a surrender of the fortifications education
had erected. He continued his questions.

“Of what disease did you die?”

“A lawyer should be more precise in his language.
I did not die at all.”

“Well, then, what caused you to pass from earth?”

“I am still on earth. I come to the office every day
and assist you as much as I ever did, though in a different
way. With the aid of a friend of mine. I am
going to help you win a case that you would lose without
me.”

“What case?”

“That of Melissa Smith.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“I know where my friend says she is.”

“Where?”

“At sea.”

“In what vessel?”

“The Sea-Nymph, bound for New York. She will
stop at Valparaiso.”

“Who is with her?”

“A man named James O'Neil.”

“I have never heard of him.”

“He is a friend of Waters.”

“Did she go away of her own accord?”

“No. She was chloroformed and carried off.”

“By O'Neil?”

“The plan was arranged by Mrs. Smith, Waters,
and O'Neil. Waters and O'Neil entered the house and
carried her off.”

“How did they get in?”

“A man sleeping in the house let them in.”

“There was no man in the house but myself.”

“You are mistaken.”

“I am positive. I locked and bolted the doors myself
between the hours of twelve and one at night.”

“Well, you bolted the man in, and went to bed
yourself.”

“I looked everywhere, for Bob bad warned me that
an attempt would be made to carry Mliss off.”

“Did you look in the room of Janet, the chambermaid?”

“No.”

“The man who let them in is Janet's lover.”

“Thank you. We have come to something now that
is susceptible of proofs.”

“You must be cautious how you proceed. Janet is
sly. She only admits her lover when she thinks she
may do so with safety.”

“Do you know the man's name?”

“She calls him Jake.”

“I have seen him,” said Regina, “but I didn't suspect—”

“Did Janet know that Jake admitted these men?”

“No. She was asleep. The affair was conducted
without noise. The men were not in the house more
han five minutes.”

“Do you know what they intend to do with Mliss?”

“O'Neil intends to marry her. They would kill her
and have her out of the way but for one consideration!”

“What is that?”

“If James Smith should be found it will be proven
that Mrs. Smith is not the widow of John Smith, but
the divorced wife of James Smith.”

“I understand. She, having no rights as widow,
the estate will fall to Mliss?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know where James Smith is?”

“I do not; my friend does.”

“Who is your friend?”

“John Smith. He calls himself `Old Bummer
Smith.”'

“The father of Mliss?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“He was prowling round the house, and after a
time I understood he was the father of Mliss.”

“Will he tell me where to find James Smith?”

“He says he will make James Smith find you.”

“How can he?”

“By impressions. Some morning James Smith
will wake up and suddenly conclude that he wants to
go to San Francisco. He doesen't know why, but the
idea gets fixed in his mind. He starts and in
due time comes here. He will go at once to see his
sister-in-law, and she will send him to you.”

“Can I depend upon his coming?”

“Yes. What made you come here to-night?”

“I hardly know. Some friends suggested it as a
possible means of getting information.”

“That is it. I made them speak to you. Then,
when you scouted the idea, I fixed it in your mind, I
made you go for Regie, because—”

“Well, because?”

“There is no harm in your knowing: Regie had
been told so often that you know where Mliss is, that
she did not know what to believe.”

“I believe I am suspected of having secreted the
child myself.”

“Yes. Knowing that Mrs. Smith had designs against
her life, you would have done right if you had.”

“According to your present philosophy, Mr. Shaw,
a man is but a puppet to do the bidding of other intelligences.”

“To an extent he is. Man thinks too much of himself.
He is often but an agent when he thinks he is
the great I Am.”

“What is the difference between a good and a bad
man?”

“A difference of temperament and organization.
We choose tools suited to our purpose. If I should
want a wicked deed performed, I should choose as an
agent a man easily moved to such deeds. Some men
are so constituted by nature, so inclined by education
and association, that they cannot be made use of to
ccomplish evil purposes. Such men attract, and
are influenced by spirits of a similar character to
themselves.

“What determines the nature of a man to be good
or bad?”

“Parentage has something to do with it. But more
than anything else, the mental and physical condition
of the parents during the period of union which produces
offspring. Thus, the same parents may give
birth to children of totally different
natures, owing to their mode of life, habit
of thought, and the influence of association
during the months preceding the birth of either.
But these questions we will discuss at another time.
When you get away from here you will be involved in
doubt. A mind trained as yours is cannot readily accept
new principles. You want evidence. You seek
to account for what you call phenomena on principles
already known to yourself. You are right. Seek.
Search. Call science to your aid. You are wrong only
when you abandon investigation, leaving facts unaccounted
for. In the end, you must accept the solution
offered, or furnish one yourself.”

The electrical light ceased and the medium sank
back in her chair.

“Well,” said Mr. Rhodes, after a pause, “I suppose
you think my wife a mighty smart woman?”

“I am willing to admid that Mrs. Rhodes is a lady
of great intelligence, but in this matter, I understand,
she repeats what others write.”

“No,” said Mr. Rhodes, “she makes it all up herself.”

“But how could she know?” asked Regina, “the last
words I said to my father?”

“There's where the smartness comes in. Any of us
can repeat what we hear. My wife repeats what she
never heard.”

“But,” urged Regina, “I can't understand—”

“Mr. Rhodes is jesting,” said the medium. “So
many people come here and receive tests similar to
those you have received, then go away and say that I
made it up, that he gets out of patience. As for me,
people may think what they please. I sit for my own
amusement. When friends come it helps pass a pleasant
evening. If they choose to give me credit for
such fertility of invention it does not hurt my feelings
in the least.”

“Then you don't care to make converts?”

“I wouldn't cross the street to convert the whole
world.”

“But you have no doubt yourself,” said Mr. Gray
“but that you converse with the spirits of people who
have lived on earth.”

“I have no doubt, but no other can have the same
evidence. You, for instance, are trying to construct
a theory which accounts for the phenomena on known
principles. You object to spirits. They were not a
part of your education. You say that some force in
nature conveys intelligence from mind to mind. I
agree with you, with this difference: your force,
acting in obedience to natural laws, is unconscious
of its action. It acts as flowers grow,
because it cannot help it. My force is an intelligent
one. It acts with a purpose and with calculation.
You call your force electricity. I call mine spirits
if no intelligence was used in the conveyance of intelligence,
your blind, unintelligent force might do,
but, as you have seen to-night, there is intelligence.
Why do these intelligences speak to you, rather than
to the first person who may come, of Melissa Smith
and James Smith? Simply because, as I assume,
you are interested in these persons. There is intelligence,
you see, in the selection.”

“Your reasoning is logical, Mrs. Rhodes, if not unanswerable.
But when we reflect that the same natural
laws that exist now have always existed, we naturally
inquire why we now perseive for the first time
these mainfestations of their working.

“We do not know that these manifestations do appear

for the first time. Fifty years ago, for less than
you have seen to-night, I should have been tried as a
sorceress in league with the powers of darkness. Perhaps
your good church people would have had me
burnt at the stake. What would be the consequence.
If I saw spirits I should keep the fact to myself. If I
saw letters writien on my table which no one else
could see, I should be very careful about reading
them, even to an intelligent and liberal man like you.

“But at present,” put in Mr. Rhodes, “we have
substituted insane asylums for the stake. This is a
step in advance.”

“Fortunately,” said Mr. Gray, “Insane asylums,
for sane people, are going out of fashion. But to-night
one test has been given which is susceptible of
proof. If this Jake admitted into Mrs. Shaw's house
the men who carried off Miss Smith, we shall be able
to fasten the act upon him.”

“You must remember, Mr. Gray, that we are not
responsible for the intelligence that claims to be Mr.
Shaw. We do not know whether it was Mr. Shaw or
some person personating him. There are two chances
of failure. First, the intelligence claiming to be Mr.
Shaw may not be Mr. Shaw at all, but some mischievous
person who wants a little fun at our expense.
Second, you cannot always prove a fact. Jake
may be guilty and you not able to prove it.”

“But may not similar objections be urged against
all communications?”

“No; sometimes we receive communications from
spirits we know and can vouch for. Mr. Shaw we
do not know. I do not know that I ever saw him in
life, and he does not come accompanied by any spirit
that we do know. Again, the value of these communications
does not depend upon their serviceability as a
police force. They may have higher purposes to serve
than tracking criminals.”

“You must remember, also,” said Mr. Rhodes,
“that every man or woman, however criminal or degraded,
has spirit friends. If spirits lend themselves
to harass mortals, the spirit friends of these mortals
will protect them.”

At this point in the discussion the electrical lights
began to play upon the table. After a little hesitation,
the medium said:

“Here comes our old friend, Paul Wentworth. Good
evening, Mr. Wentworth.”

She then introduced Mr. Wentworth precisely as if
he had been in the body and had entered the room.
She then read:

“I have listened to this discussion with much interest.
We do not often allow ourselves to be employed
as detectives, but when a real good is to be
gained we may do so. I come especially to say to you
that I was present when the spirit you infer to be Mr.
Shaw was writing, and I can vouch for his identity.
I knew him when on earth, as he frequently attended
a circle where I was an occasional visitor.”

“Ask him if papa is happy,” said Regina to Mrs.
Rhodes.

“You may ask him,” replied the medium; “He
will answer you.”

She then read: “Mr. Shaw seems happy and contented.
He has been much concerned about your
brother, but is less so at present.”

“Was papa a Spiritualist?” asked Regina.

“In conviction he was. He rarely spoke on the
subject as Mrs. Shaw was bitterly opposed to the
theory. I will not occupy your time now but come
and have a talk with you when you have caught Jake.”

The electrical lights again ceased, and as the sitting
had been protracted, lights were brought into the
room.

After half an hour spent in conversation, Mr.
Gray and Regina rose to go. Mr. Gray with
some hesitation laid a good coin on the mantel as payment
for the services rendered. The medium, however,
without any show of being offended, handed it
back.

“We don't receive fees,” she said pleasantly. “We
give sittings only when it pleases us to do so.”

“In that case you prohibit me from seeking information
from the same source again.”

“By no means. Come whenever you like. If it is
not agreeable to sit, we will tell you so. If I took money
I should feel that I was under a kind of obligation to
sit for all who came.”

“You have many visitors, I presume?”

“A good many, but we might have more. We are
consulted not only by foolish women, as you doubtless
suppose, but by physicians, lawyers, stockbrokers,
merchants and everybody but clergymen.”

“Then clergymen do not consult you?”

“Never. We cannot help their business. They
have things so fixed that they only want to be let
alone.”

Receiving a cordial invitation to come again, Mr.
Gray and Regina passed out into the street.

“Well,” said Mr. Gray, “we are still on earth. I
recognize the locality.”

“Did you imagine yourself in the other world?”

“Not, exactly; but this is the most unromantic
ghostly interview I ever heard of. It was lucky for
Shakespeare that he lived before our time. Here are
no incantations, no blue and red flame, no sulphurous
odor, no weird forest, but a very charming woman
and a jolly sort of a man, as the sole interpreters
of the world of spirits,”

“All this is very strange. Do you really believe
it was papa who spoke?”

“I believe less to-night than I ever did in my life.
Most of us have been under the impression that we
knew something, but I doubt to-night if I ever knew
anything at all. Let us live in the world a couple of
days, and then if you please we will talk this matter
over.”