O. J. L. (still remembering nothing about these people.)—Did the man drown himself?
Oh no, he wented down in a boat; they nearly all wented down together.
The lady wasn't expecting him—she nearly flopped over when he came.
O. J. L.—Was he related to the lady?
No, but he had been the biggest thing in her life. He says it seemed as though she must have felt something, to make her write to you.
O. J. L.—However did Raymond know that she had written to me?
Feda doesn't know. (Sotto voce.—Tell Feda, Yaymond.)
Do you believe me, father, I really can't tell you how I know some things. It's not through inquiry, but sometimes I get it just like a Marconi apparatus receives a message from somewhere, and doesn't know where it comes from at first. Sometimes I try to find out things, and I can't.
[I perceived gradually that this episode related to some one named E. A. (unknown to me), about whom I had been told at a Feda sitting on Friday, 28 January 1916, Raymond seeming to want me to speak to E. A.'s father about him. And in a note to that sitting it is explained how I received a letter shortly afterwards from a stranger, a Mrs. D., who consulted me about informing Dr. A. of the appearance of his son. The whole episode is an excellent one, but it concerns other people, and if narrated at all must be narrated more fully and in another place. Suffice it to say that the son had been lost in tragic circumstances, and that the father is impressed by the singular nature of the evidence that has now been given through the lady—a special visit to Scotland having been made by her for that express purpose. She had not known the father before, but she found him and his house as described; and he admits the details as surprisingly accurate.]
Here is the extract from my sitting of 28 January 1916 relating to this affair:—