"But it is getting late, and as I have now reached the point in my story which makes it necessary to explain an important discovery to which I was led by this trance condition, it will be better to stop for this evening."
"But," I interrupted, "before I go you will show me the other rooms you spoke of."
"Not to-night," he replied, "for there are many things in them which still require explanations for which at present you are hardly prepared. But the next time we meet I hope to take you into one of them. When I began this evening, I had no intention of going so fully into the details of my story, but noticing that the method unconsciously adopted did not weary you, it seemed better to give my experiences in the order in which they occurred. This plan has led, and will probably still lead, me to describe many so-called trivial reminiscences; but as a matter of fact, nothing is trivial, and by striving to confine ourselves to more important subjects, we often miss the tiny thread which might, if followed, have led to some great discovery. When, however, I continue my story, I hope to make it more interesting by illustrations."
As he said this he took both my hands. In a moment I was plunged in darkness; the room, my companion, everything had vanished; but as I still strained my eyes a faint revolving spark of light became visible. This light increased until I found that I was in the presence of a young girl, whom I had little difficulty in recognizing as the Vera of my friend's story. She was standing in a listening attitude, as though some one had called her, and was evidently unconscious of my presence. As I lay watching she turned her face toward me. I shall never forget the revelation of beauty and weakness depicted there; but more quickly than the vision came it vanished, and I heard my host say--
"Good-night. Come again at the same time as soon as ever you feel inclined."
Then I heard the door close, and found myself standing in the cool evening air outside Alan Sydney's house.
When I got back to my room I was too excited to sleep. Was there, after all, some incomprehensible meaning in life, a possibility of solving the mystery of existence? I sat for some time thinking; then taking my pen, began to write, and as I wrote it seemed that already my mind was under the influence of a new power, for each sentence Sydney had used came back to me without effort of memory, as if I were writing from some inaudible dictation.
CHAPTER III
I felt annoyed the next morning to remember that I had accepted an invitation to dine out that evening, and it would be therefore necessary to postpone seeing Sydney until the following day. I was so interested in what I had heard and seen that it hardly occurred to me to delay my next visit longer than necessary, for he who evidently could read my thoughts would not expect me to restrain my impatience with any feeling of consideration for conventionalities.
My entertainment this evening was likely to be a stimulating contrast to that of the previous night. Transon Hall, where I was to dine, may be considered the centre of our circle of social exclusiveness. Into this ring those who moved in inferior orbits at times penetrated, and at times were excluded.