And she tried to lift her upon her lap, but the child resisted and held back. Then the woman seized her by both arms, and held her firmly, looking into her eyes, and exerting the serpent’s power of fascination.
The child stood still, held by a grip too strong for resistance, but she let her eyes fall.
“Look at me!” commanded the woman. But the glance she hoped to catch and hold in her weird gaze did not turn itself from the floor.
“Look at me! Do you hear?” And the woman placed one hand under the little girl’s chin and forced her face upward. But, instead of looking at the woman, the child shut her eyes.
Holding her thus, Mrs. Fordham commenced with one hand a series of mesmeric passes; but the child struggled and tried to escape from her. A blow was evidently meditated, for there was a quick raising of one hand, accompanied by an angry flash sweeping over the woman’s face. But the cruel purpose was repressed.
“What has come over the girl?” she muttered, impatiently. “Am I thus to be baffled again? I did not look for it here! But down, excitement! If I would regain my power, it must be through calmness and a resolute will.”
Releasing the child, who instantly shrunk away to the farther side of the room, Mrs. Fordham assumed an unimpassioned manner, but kept her gaze steadily resting upon her victim.
The woman sat on the bedside, and the child stood pale, trembling, and in tears, crouching against the wall directly opposite. Every thing became silent and motionless as death. The child did not look up, but steadily persisted in avoiding the gaze of her persecutor. But the powers of evil were too strong: there was an eye upon her that possessed a charm too potent for her to withstand; she was a frightened bird struggling, but in vain, against the fascination of a serpent. One, two, three minutes passed; all remained hushed as if statues and not living forms were in the room. At last the woman stirred slightly, as though the inner excitement had struggled through all restraining bars and shuddered along the surface: her head gradually bent forward, and her eyes protruded fearfully. And now there was an apparent relaxation of muscle in the child. Evidently, her will was losing its faculty of resistance. A minute more, and the woman began approaching, with the stealthy movements of a cat, her eyes still fixed intently upon the girl. Cautiously, and as if in doubt, she laid her hand against her cheek, touching it lightly. The child did not stir! She pressed the hand harder: there was no sign of consciousness! She called: there was no answer!
Suddenly a new life seemed thrilling along the woman’s veins. Her countenance flushed; her eyes danced in light; her whole person quivered. Stooping over the child, she lifted her with some caution, as if fearing the spell might dissolve, bore her across the room, and laid her upon the bed. Then she made slow passes above her for the space of nearly five minutes.
“All right!” she muttered, as a glow of evil triumph warmed her disfigured face, and her thin lips parted in a demoniac smile. “It was a hard struggle, but a vain one! There is an opposition of spheres in this house, and the medium of its activity is Adele Weir. Twice has she set me at defiance, twice thwarted the spirits. It must not occur again. Am I to be set at naught by a stripling of a girl like this?”