Vera, the Medium - novelonlinefull.com
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With an exclamation, Hallowell cut short the patter of the showman.
"Yes, yes," he interrupted petulantly; "I tell you, I want to believe.
Convince me."
Considering the situation with pursed lips and thoughtful eyes, Vera gazed at the old man, frowning. Finally she asked, "Have you witnessed out demonstrations of mind reading?"
Mr. Hallowell snorted. "Certainly not," he replied; "it's a trick!"
"A trick!" cried the girl indignantly, "to read a man's mind--to see right through your forehead, through your skull, into your brain? Is that a trick?" She turned sharply to Vance. "Show him!" she commanded; "show him!" She crossed rapidly to the window and stood looking down into the street, with her back to the room.
Vance, with his back turned to Vera, stood close to the table, on the other side of which Hallowell was reclining in his arm chair. Vance picked up a pen holder.
"Think of what I have in my hand, please," he said. "What is this, Vera?" he asked. The girl, gazing from the window at the traffic in the avenue below her, answered with indifference, "A pen holder."
"Yes, what about it?" snapped Vance.
"Gold pen holder," Vera answered more rapidly. "Much engraving--initials S. H.--Mr. Hallowell's initials--"
"There is a date too. Can you--"
"December--" Vera hesitated.
"Go on," commanded Vance.
"Twenty-five, one, eight, eight, six; one thousand eight hundred and eighty-six." She moved her shoulders impatiently.
"Oh, tell him to think of something difficult," she said.
From behind Mr. Hallowell's chair Rainey signaled to Vance to take from the table a photograph frame of silver which held the picture of a woman.
Vance picked it up, holding it close to him.
"What have I here, Vera?" he asked.
Hallowell, seeing what Vance held in his hand, leaned forward. "Put that down!" he commanded. But Vera had already begun to answer.
"A picture, a picture of a young woman. Ask him to think of who it is and I will tell him."
At the words Mr. Hallowell hesitated, frowned, and then nodded.
"It is his sister," called Vera. "Her name was--I seem to get a Catherine--yes, that's it; Catherine Coates. She is no longer with us. She pa.s.sed into the spirit world three years ago." The girl turned suddenly and approached the table, holding her head high, as though offended.
"How do you explain that trick?" she demanded.
Mr. Hallowell moved uneasily in his chair. "Oh, the picture's been on my desk each time you've been here," he answered dubiously. "Rainey could have told you."
"As a matter of fact, I didn't," said Rainey.
Hallowell's eyes lightened with interest. "Didn't you?" he asked. He turned to Vera. "If you can read my mind," he challenged--"you," he added, pointing at Vance, "keep out of this now--tell me of what I am thinking." As Vance drew back, Rainey and himself exchanged a quick glance of apprehension, but the girl promptly closed her eyes, and at once, in a dull, measured tone, began to speak.
"You were thinking you would like to ask a question of some one in the spirit," she recited. "But you are afraid. You do not trust me. You will wait until I give you a sign; then you will ask that question of some one dear to you, who has pa.s.sed beyond, and she will answer, and your troubles will be at an end." She opened her eyes and stared at Mr.
Hallowell like one coming out of a dream. "What did I say?" she asked.
"Was I right?"
Hallowell slank back in his chair, shaking his head.
"Yes," he began grudgingly, "but--"
With an eagerness hardly concealed, Vance interrupted.
"What is the question you wish to ask?" he begged.
With a frown of suspicion, Hallowell turned from him to Rainey.
"I don't think I ought to let them know," he questioned; "do you?" But his attention was sharply diverted.
Vera, in a hushed and solemn voice, called for silence.
"My control," she explained--her tone was deep and awestruck--"is trying to communicate with me."
Vance gave an exclamation of concern. The prospect of the phenomena Vera promised seemed to fill him with delightful expectations. "Be very quiet," he cautioned, "do not disturb her."
Deeply impressed, Mr. Hallowell struggled from his chair. Unaided, he moved to below the table and leaning against it looked, with unwilling but fascinated interest, at Vera's uplifted face.
"Some one in the spirit," Vera chanted, in an unemotional, drugged voice, "wishes to speak to Mr. Hallowell. Give me your hand."
"Quick!" directed Vance, "give her your hand. Take her hand."
"Yes, he is here," Vera continued. "A woman has a message for you, she is standing close beside you. She is holding out her arms. And she is trying, so hard, to tell you something. What is it?" the girl questioned. "Oh, what is it? Tell me," she begged. "Can't you tell me?"
Hallowell eyed her greedily, waiting almost without breathing for her words. The hand with which he held hers crushed her rings into her fingers.
"What sort?"--whispered the old man. "What sort of a woman?"
With eyes still closed, swaying slightly and with abrupt shudders running down her body, the girl continued in dull, fateful tones.
"She is a fair woman; about forty-five. She is speaking. She calls to you, Brother, brother." Vera's voice rose excitedly. "It is the woman in the picture; your sister! Catherine! I see it written above her head--Catherine. In letters of light." She turned suddenly and fiercely.
"Ask her your question!" she commanded. "Ask her your question, now!"
By the sudden swaying forward of Vance and Rainey, in the intent look in their eyes, it was evident that a crisis had approached. But Mr.
Hallowell, terrified and trembling, shrank back. His voice broke hysterically. "No, no!" he pleaded. Both anger and disappointment showed in the face of Vance and Rainey; but the girl, as though detached from any human concerns, continued unmoved. "I see another figure," she recited. "A young girl, but she is of this world. I seem to get an H.
Yes. Helen, in letters of fire."
"My niece, Helen!" Hallowell whispered hoa.r.s.ely.
"Yes, your niece," chanted the girl. Her voice rose and thrilled. "And I see much gold," she cried. "Between the two women, heaps of gold.
Everywhere I look I see gold. And, now, the other woman, your sister, is trying to speak to you. Listen! She calls to you, Brother!"
So centered was the interest of those in the room, so compelling the sound of the girl's voice, that, unnoticed, the sliding doors to the library were slipped apart. Un.o.bserved, Judge Gaylor and Winthrop halted in the doorway. To the Judge the meaning of the scene was instantly apparent. His face flushed furiously. Winthrop, uncomprehending, gazed unconcerned over Gaylor's shoulder. The voice of Vera rose hysterically to her climax.