Considering the state of mind the manifestations of the statuette kept us in, it will be readily understood that the first question put to the somnambulist was, ‘Do you see who it is who moves the Virgin about?’
‘I see him,’ she replied, ‘he is close to me on his knees, praying. It is a man dressed in a brown coat, holding a dark-covered book in his hand. I do not see his face. I only see a part of his moustache, for he is turning his back to me.’
For several days her answers were always the same. But having insisted upon knowing the name of the man in prayer, the somnambulist at last replied, ‘I am Madame’s father.’
However, this assertion was soon contradicted by a more explicit declaration.
It was so easy to produce the magnetic sleep with Marie, that, once when she asked me to put her to sleep, I succeeded in doing so without having any other notions about such things than those I had gathered from our few seances; but I found it impossible to awaken her, and was obliged to send for the watchmaker, hoping he would help me out of my dilemma. He arrived, but his efforts were in vain.
The somnambulist made fun of us, and teased the watchmaker about his embonpoint.
This fact is to be noted, for it contradicts the current belief that the subject obeys the will of the magnetiser: but what follows reveals a phenomenon of vastly different interest.
Marie ceased to speak in her own name. A spirit having taken possession of her will, declared that all our efforts to awaken the somnambulist would be useless.
‘I am quite comfortable here,’ said the spirit, ‘and it pleases me to stay. But at four o’clock, I am wanted elsewhere; the somnambulist will then awaken of her own accord. Have the patience to wait.’
At the hour mentioned, at the exact moment, the somnambulist returned to her normal state.