Sir Joseph vouchsafed no answer.
"Hark! wasn't that a rap?" cried Stellato, in a husky whisper.
Here every one pricked an ear towards the table.
"Doctor Franklin, is that you?"
"The Doctor promised to be present to give a scientific and philosophical view of these communications," parenthesized the interrogator.
"Doctor Franklin, is that you?"
A faint creaking is audible.
"Byron's sign, as I'm a living woman!" ejaculated the Widow Colfodder.
"Her spiritual partner and guardian-angel," explained Miss Turligood,—and this for my satisfaction as the last-comer.
Direct examination by the widow:—