The rising sound increased above the subdued gasps of the sitters. It grew louder than the babble of Little Flower's voice. It burst like the crest of a mighty wave — a startling, mirthless cry of wild, outlandish laughter!
Chairs fell backward as sitters clambered to the floor. Screams came spontaneously from the lips of frightened women.
The phosphorescent dagger trembled as though the unseen hand that held it was startled by that reverberating cry. Then it flashed in a menacing swing, as though seeking a hidden enemy. As the dagger wavered, something shot out of the darkness and gripped an arm beside the swinging blade. A loud, harsh oath was uttered.
The dagger was whirling, trying to escape an unknown grasp, as though two mighty, invisible forces were locked in supernatural conflict!
Now came a vicious curse from another voice. The mocking laughter burst forth in quick staccato as the dagger rose high above the floor. Amid the laughter came the thud of a falling chair — wild curses — the fierce sounds of a human struggle in the darkness.
The phosphorescent dagger whirled away in freedom. Striking from above, the blade swept downward like a dash of meteoric light. Its mission of vengeance ended as the blade was lost in thick darkness. A terrible scream came from beside the medium's chair. It sounded again, weakly, and ended in a hideous coughing gasp.
Something thudded heavily, and the glowing handle of the dagger reappeared, poised motionless, only a foot above the floor.
"Lights! Lights!" came the cry of the medium.
The frantic words were drowned with a new outburst of the demoniac laugh that had brought consternation to the room. From the walls and ceiling, impish echoes resounded in the blackness. A host of tiny tongues seemed to be pouring forth a message of sinister doom.
As the taunts died out, the lights came an. Castelle, white-faced, had reached the wall switch. The bright illumination revealed a startling scene.