“Friend, I would have a word with you,” said Mailey in a firm, loud voice. The mutter ceased and one felt that the invisible presence was straining its attention. “Friend, we are so sorry at your condition. You see us and you wonder why we do not see you. You have passed on. You are in the other world. But you do not know it, because it is not as you expected. You have not been received as you imagined. It is because you imagined wrong. Understand that all is well, and that God is good, and that all happiness is awaiting you if you will but raise your mind and pray for help, and above all think less of your own condition and more of those other poor souls who are round you.”
There was a silence and Luke spoke again.
“He has heard you. He wants to thank you. He has some glimmer now of his condition. It will grow within him. He wants to know if he may come again.”
“Yes! Yes!” cried Bolsover. “We have quite a number who report progress from time to time. God bless you, friend. Come as often as you can.” The mutter had ceased and there seemed to be a new feeling of peace in the air. The high voice of Wee One was heard.
“Plenty power still left. Red Cloud here. Show what he can do, if Daddy likes.”
“Red Cloud is our Indian control. He is usually busy when any purely physical phenomena have to be done. You there, Red Cloud?”
Three loud thuds, like a hammer on wood, sounded from the darkness.
“Good evening, Red Cloud!”
A new voice, slow, staccato, laboured, sounded above them.
“Good day, Chief! How the squaw? How the papooses? Strange faces in wigwam to-night.”