This fact is one of the most curious of our long series of surprising adventures.
Henceforth, when the milkman’s cart stopped at the gate and before he rang, a mysterious power shot back the bolt in the lock. Then the gate opened, and the milkman placed on the window-sill the jug of milk, which the domestic took in later on.
Perhaps the milkman thought a special mechanism allowed us to open the door. However that may be, his imagination was evidently at work, for he was heard to say aloud, when getting into his cart, ‘All the same, this is a very queer house.’
Sometimes, after having attended vespers either at Sainte-Croix or at the Vieillards, we used to take a long walk, and often we returned home tired and impatient to sit down and rest a while.
So that we might not have to wait, an invisible hand used to knock at the door before we arrived there.
This fact could not be hidden, and our neighbour, Madame Pardeau, in a good position for observation, laughed at the attentions shown us.
At about this time there was a strange substitution, one which would, henceforth, render the intervention of the somnambulist unnecessary. Madame Vergniat and I were returning home after visiting Talence. On the way, my wife turned round quickly, saying: ‘Some one has just called me: twice I heard a voice say, “Héloïse! Héloïse!”’
From that day forth, Madame Vergniat asked questions mentally and a foreign voice answered them.
Very soon the voice took the initiative of conversations, and absorbing Madame Vergniat’s faculties, spoke through her.
There was no being deceived; it was easy to recognise the same benevolent spirit, which had only changed his dwelling-place, as it were.