friends here to-night, and it may interest them to come in contact with the spirit people. There is a presence building up behind the gentleman with a moustache—the gentleman who sits next to the young lady. Yes, sir, behind you. He is a man of middle size, rather inclined to shortness. He is old, over sixty, with white hair, curved nose, and a white small beard of the variety that is called goatee. He is no relation, I gather, but a friend. Does that suggest anyone to you, sir?"
Malone shook his head with some contempt. "It would nearly fit any old man," he whispered to Enid.
"We will try to get a little closer. He has deep lines on his face. I should say he was an irritable man in his lifetime. He was quick and nervous in his ways. Does that help you?"
Again Malone shook his head.
"Rot! Perfect rot," he muttered.
"Well, he seems very anxious, so we must do what we can for him. He holds up a book. It is a learned book. He opens it and I see diagrams in it. Perhaps he wrote it—or perhaps he taught from it. Yes, he nods. He taught from it. He was a teacher."
Malone remained unresponsive.
"I don't know that I can help him any more. Ah! there is one thing. He has a mole over his right eyebrow."
Malone started as if he had been stung.
"My God!" gasped Malone. "It's Professor Summerlee!"
"Ah, you've got it. There's a message: 'Greetings to old ' It's a long name and begins with a C. I can't get it. Does it mean anything?"
"Yes."
In an instant she had turned and was describing something or someone else. But she had left a badly-shaken man upon the platform behind her. Presently she sat down.
It was at this point that the orderly service had a remarkable interruption which surprised the audience as much as it did the two visitors. This was the sudden appearance beside the Chairman of a tall, pale-faced bearded man dressed like a superior artisan, who held up his hand with a quietly impressive gesture as one who was accustomed to exert authority. He then half-turned and said a word to Mr. Bolsover.
"This is Mr. Miromar, of Dalston," said the Chairman. "Mr. Miromar has a message to deliver. We are always glad to hear from Mr. Miromar."
The reporters could only get a half-view of the newcomer's face, but both of them were struck by his noble bearing and by the massive outline of his head, which promised very unusual intellectual power. His voice when he spoke rang clearly and pleasantly through the hall.
"I have been ordered to give the message wherever I think that there are ears to hear it. There are some here who are ready for it, and that is why I have come. They wish that the human race should gradually understand the situation so that there shall be the less shock or panic. I am one of several who are chosen to carry the news."
"A lunatic, I'm afraid!" whispered Malone, scribbling hard upon his knee. There was a general inclination to smile among the audience. And yet there was something in the man's manner and voice which made them hang on every word.
"God sends His knowledge in instalments. There was the old heathen knowledge. It was the worship of elemntals. Then came the Jewish single God, and then the Christ idea of love. These were all instalments.
"But things have again reached a climax. The very idea of progress has been made material. It is progress to go swiftly, to send swift messages, to build new machinery. All this is a diversion of real ambition. There is only one real progress—spiritual progress. Mankind gives it a lip tribute, but presses on upon its false road of material science.
"The Central Intelligence recognized that amid all the apathy there was also much honest doubt which had outgrown old creeds and had a right to fresh evidence. Therefore fresh evidence was sent—evidence which made the life after death as clear as the sun in the heavens. It was laughed at by scientists, condemned by the Churches, became the butt of the newspapers, and was discarded with contempt. That was the last and greatest blunder of humanity."
The audience had their chins up now. General speculations were beyond their mental horizon. But this was very clear to their comprehension. There was a murmur of sympathy and applause.
"The thing was now hopeless. It had got beyond all control. Therefore something sterner was needed since Heaven's gift had been disregarded. The blow fell. Ten million young men were laid dead upon the ground. Twice as many were mutilated. That was the first warning to mankind. But it was vain. The same dull materialism prevailed as before. Years of grace were given, and save the stirrings of the spirit seen in such churches as these, no change was anywhere to be seen. The nations heaped up fresh loads of sin, and sin must
