Little Flower's last babble did not return. There was a moaning from the medium at the head of the circle. A man's voice groaned.
"Lights! Lights! Turn on the lights!" came a tense whisper.
Some one complied. With the snap of the light switch, the room was flooded with illumination. A circle of a dozen sitters was revealed. Both men and women were in the group, and their faces were aghast. All eyes were centered toward the medium.
A sallow, nervous man, he lay slumped in his chair, with hands and feet bound as they had been arranged at the beginning of the seance.
A heavy, hard-faced individual arose from the circle and approached the medium. A woman joined him, and they managed to bring the medium from his trance. Still tied, he looked about, bewildered.
"Are you all right, Professor Jacques?" asked the man beside him. The medium stared blankly, then recognized the man who had come to his aid.
"Yes, my friend," he said. "Yes, Mr. Harvey. I am all right. A terrible dream came to me in my trance. Some dreadful, evil spirit seized my soul. It seemed to strike at my heart.
"I see you now, my friends. Ah — Mr. Castelle" — he was addressing a dignified, middle-aged man across the circle — "I am glad that you were here. You were a skeptic. Now, you have seen how evil spirits can act. Is it not terrible?"
Castelle nodded slowly. His face was as white and drawn as were the features of the others in that circle. The medium, gaining new control of himself, glanced from person to person.
"Ah" — he was speaking to a frightened, elderly woman — "it was you to whom Little Flower was speaking, was it not?"