evidently regained entire control of herself. She came forward and shook hands with Madame Exe, though Raoul noticed the faint shiver that passed through her as she did so.
‘I regret, Madame, to hear that you are indisposed,’ said Madame Exe.
‘It is nothing,’ said Simone rather brusquely. ‘Shall we begin?’
She went to the alcove and sat down in the armchair. Suddenly Raoul in his turn felt a wave of fear pass over him.
‘You are not strong enough,’ he exclaimed. ‘We had better cancel the séance. Madame Exe will understand.’
‘Monsieur!’
Madame Exe rose indignantly.
‘Yes, yes, it is better not, I am sure of it.’
‘Madame Simone promised me one last sitting.’
‘That is so,’ agreed Simone quietly, ‘and I am prepared to carry out my promise.’
‘I hold you to it, Madame,’ said the other woman.
‘I do not break my word,’ said Simone coldly. ‘Do not fear, Raoul,’ she added gently, ‘after all, it is for the last time—the last time, thank God.’
At a sign from her Raoul drew the heavy black curtains across the alcove. He also pulled the curtains of the window so that the room was in semi-obscurity. He indicated one of the chairs to Madame Exe and prepared himself to take the other. Madame Exe, however, hesitated.
‘You will pardon me, Monsieur, but—you understand I believe absolutely in your integrity and in that of Madame Simone. All the same, so that my testimony may be the more valuable, I took the liberty of bringing this with me.’
From her handbag she drew a length of fine cord.
‘Madame!’ cried Raoul. ‘This is an insult!’
‘A precaution.’
‘I repeat it is an insult.’
‘I don’t understand your objection, Monsieur,’ said Madame Exe coldly. ‘If there is no trickery you have nothing to fear.’
Raoul laughed scornfully.
‘I can assure you that I have nothing to fear, Madame. Bind me hand and foot if you will.’
His speech did not produce the effect he hoped for, for Madame Exe merely murmured unemotionally:
‘Thank you, Monsieur,’ and advanced upon him with her roll of cord.
Suddenly Simone from behind the curtain gave a cry.
‘No, no, Raoul, don’t let her do it.’
Madame Exe laughed derisively.
‘Madame is afraid,’ she observed sarcastically.
‘Yes, I am afraid.’
‘Remember what you are saying, Simone,’ cried Raoul. ‘Madame Exe is apparently under the impression that we are charlatans.’
‘I must make sure,’ said Madame Exe grimly.
She went methodically about her task, binding Raoul securely to his chair.
‘I must congratulate you on your knots, Madame,’ he observed ironically when she had finished. ‘Are you satisfied now?’
Madame Exe did not reply. She walked round the room examining the panelling of the walls closely. Then she locked the door leading into the hall, and, removing the key, returned to her chair.
‘Now,’ she said in an indescribable voice, ‘I am ready.’
The minutes passed. From behind the curtain the sound of Simone’s breathing became heavier and more stertorous. Then it died away altogether, to be succeeded by a series of moans. Then again there was silence for a little while, broken by the sudden clattering of the tambourine. The horn was caught up from the table and dashed to the ground. Ironic laughter was heard. The curtains of the alcove seemed to have been pulled back a little, the medium’s figure was just visible through the opening, her head fallen forward on her breast. Suddenly Madame Exe drew in her breath sharply. A ribbon-like stream of mist was issuing from the medium’s mouth. It condensed and began gradually to assume a shape, the shape of a little child.
‘Amelie! My little Amelie!’
The hoarse whisper came from Madame Exe. The hazy figure condensed still further. Raoul stared almost incredulously. Never had there been a more successful materialization. Now, surely it was a real child, a real flesh and blood child standing there.
‘Maman!’
The soft childish voice spoke.
‘My child!’ cried Madame Exe. ‘My child!’
She half-rose from her seat.
‘Be careful, Madame,’ cried Raoul warningly.
The materialization came hesitatingly through the curtains. It was a child. She stood there, her arms held out.
‘Maman!’
‘Ah!’ cried Madame Exe.
Again she half-rose from her seat.
‘Madame,’ cried Raoul, alarmed, ‘the medium—’
‘I must touch her,’ cried Madame Exe hoarsely.
She moved a step forward.
‘For God’s sake, Madame, control yourself,’ cried Raoul.
He was really alarmed now.
‘Sit down at once.’
‘My little one, I must touch her.’
‘Madame, I command you, sit down!’
He was writhing desperately in his bonds, but Madame Exe had done her work well; he was helpless. A terrible sense of impending disaster swept over him.
‘In the name of God, Madame, sit down!’ he shouted. ‘Remember the medium.’
Madame Exe paid no attention to him. She was like a woman transformed. Ecstasy and delight showed plainly in her face. Her outstretched hand touched the little figure that stood in the opening of the curtains. A terrible moan came from the medium.
‘My God!’ cried Raoul. ‘My God! This is terrible. The medium—’
Madame Exe turned on him with a harsh laugh.
‘What do I care for your medium?’ she cried. ‘I want my child.’
‘You are mad!’
‘My child, I tell you. Mine! My own! My own flesh and blood! My
