At seven o’clock that evening Bradley returned to the house in Bayswater, and found the brother and sister waiting for him.
Eustasia wore a loose-fitting robe of black velvet, cut low round the bust, and without sleeves. Her neck and arms were beautifully though delicately moulded, white and glistening as satin, and the small serpent-like head, with its wonderfully brilliant eyes, was surmounted by a circlet of pearls.
Bradley looked at her in surprise. Never before had she seemed so weirdly pretty.
The Professor, on the other hand, despite his gnome-like brow, appeared unusually ignoble and commonplace. He was ill at ease, too, and cast distrustful glances from time to time at his sister, whose manner was as brilliant as her appearance, and who seemed to have cast aside the depression which she had shown during the early part of the day.
After some little desultory conversation, Bradley expressed his impatience for the séance to begin. The landlady of the house, herself (as the reader is aware) an adept, was therefore summoned to give the party, and due preparations made by drawing the window-blinds and extinguishing the gas. Before the lights were quite put out, however, the Professor addressed his sister.
‘Eustasia, you’re not well! Say the word, and I’m sure Mr. Bradley will excuse you for to-night.’
The appeal was in vain, Eustasia persisting. The séance began. The Professor and Mrs. Piozzi Smith were vis-à-vis, while Eustasia, her back towards the folding-doors communicating to the inner chamber, sat opposite to Bradley.
The clergyman was far less master of himself than on the former occasions. No sooner did he find himself in total darkness than his heart began to beat with great muffled throbs, and nervous thrills ran through his frame. Before there was the slightest intimation of any supernatural presence, he seemed to see before him the dead face of his wife, white and awful as he had beheld it in that darkened chamber at Boulogne. Then the usual manifestations began; bells were rung, faint lights flashed hither and thither, the table round which they were seated rose in the air, mysterious hands were passed over Bradley’s face. He tried to retain his self-possession, but found it impossible; a sickening sense of horror and fearful anticipation overmastered him, so that the clammy sweat stood upon his brow, and his body trembled like a reed.
Presently the voice of the little Professor was heard saying:
‘Who is present? Will any of our dear friends make themselves known?’