Kate took the leaf, on which was written, in a firm, round, old-fashioned hand, these words: "Your aunt is here, and asks that you and your brother pay her debt. She is angry because it has not been done."
"I have no knowledge of any such debt," said Kate. "I don't understand this."
The hand was writing again, busily, imperturbably, and the color was coming back into Viola's face. As Kate waited, her awe began to pass, and doubts came thronging back upon her. There was something farcical in all this.
Again the hand flung its message, and again the mother picked it from the floor.
"This also is from father," she announced, with more of excitement than she had hitherto betrayed.
The message began abruptly: "The doubter may be convinced if he will but put himself in the way of it. The life of my granddaughter is more valuable to-day than that of any king or queen. Her mission is to open the door between the two worlds. She is here ready for the test. Let the men of science come to her and be convinced of the life beyond the grave." It was signed with an elaborate rubric "McLeod."
"Who is this message for, father?" asked Mrs. Lambert. "Mrs. Rice?"
A violent thump answered "No."
"Maybe it's for my brother," suggested Kate.
Three tremendous thumps upon the underside of the table gave affirmative answer.