The Necromancers. Robert Hugh Benson

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СКАЧАТЬ were announced to him immediately after Mrs. Baxter had received from Maggie's hands her first cup of tea.

      "Mr. Rymer tells me it's all nonsense," she said.

      Laurie looked up.

      "What?" he said.

      "Mr. Rymer tells me Spiritualism is all nonsense. He told me about someone called Eglingham, who kept a beard in his portmanteau."

      "Eglinton, I think, auntie," put in Maggie.

      "I daresay, my dear. Anyhow, it's all the same. I felt sure it must be so." Laurie took a bun, with a thoughtful air.

      "Does Mr. Rymer know very much about it, do you think, mother?"

      "Dear boy, I think he knows all that anyone need know. Besides, if you come to think of it, how could Cardinal Newman possibly appear in a drawing-room? Particularly when Mrs. Stapleton says he isn't a Christian any longer."

      This had a possible and rather pleasing double interpretation; but Laurie decided it was not worth while to be humorous.

      "What about the Witch of Endor?" he asked innocently, instead.

      "That was in the Old Testament," answered his mother rapidly. "Mr. Rymer said something about that too."

      "Oh! wasn't it really Samuel who appeared?"

      "Mr. Rymer thinks that things were permitted then that are not permitted now."

      Laurie drank up his cup of tea. It is a humiliating fact that extreme grief often renders the mourner rather cross. There was a distinct air of crossness about Laurie at this moment. His nerves were very near the top.

      "Well, that's very convenient," he said. "Maggie, do you know if there's any book on Spiritualism in the house?"

      The girl glanced uneasily near the fire-place.

      "I don't know," she said. "Yes; I think there's something up there. I believe I saw it the other day."

      Laurie rose and stood opposite the shelves.

      "What color is it? (No, no more tea, thanks.)"

      "Er … black and red, I think," said the girl. "I forget."

      She looked up at him, faintly uneasy, as he very deliberately drew down a book from the shelf and turned the pages.

      "Yes … this is it," he said. "Thanks very much. … No, really no more tea, thanks, mother."

      Then he went to the door, with his easy, rather long steps, and disappeared. They heard his steps in the inner hall. Then a door closed overhead.

      Mrs. Baxter contentedly poured herself out another cup of tea.

      "Poor boy," she said. "He's thinking of that girl still. I'm glad he's got something to occupy his mind."

      The end room, on the first floor, was Laurie's possession. It was a big place, with two windows, and a large open fire, and he had skillfully masked the fact that it was a bedroom by disposing his furniture, with the help of a screen, in such a manner as completely to hide the bed and the washing arrangements.

      The rest of the room he had furnished in a pleasing male kind of fashion, with a big couch drawn across the fire, a writing-table and chairs, a deep easy chair near the door, and a long, high bookcase covering the wall between the door and the windows. His college oar, too, hung here, and there were pleasant groups and pictures scattered on the other walls.

      Maggie did not often come in here, except by invitation, but about seven o'clock on this evening, half an hour before she had to go and dress, she thought she would look in on him for a few minutes. She was still a little uncomfortable; she did not quite know why: it was too ridiculous, she told, herself, that a sensible boy like Laurie could be seriously affected by what she considered the wicked nonsense of Spiritualism.

      Yet she went, telling herself that Laurie's grief was an excuse for showing him a little marked friendliness. Besides, she would like to ask him whether he was really going back to town on Thursday.

      She tapped twice before an answer came; and then it seemed a rather breathless voice which spoke.

      The boy was sitting bolt upright on the edge of the sofa, with a couple of candles at his side, and the book in his hands. There was a strained and intensely interested look in his eyes.

      "May I come in for a few minutes? It's nearly dressing time," she said.

      "Oh—er—certainly."

      He got up, rather stiffly, still keeping his place in the book with one finger, while she sat down. Then he too sat again, and there was silence for a moment.

      "Why, you're not smoking," she said.

      "I forgot. I will now, if you don't mind!"

      She saw his fingers tremble a little as he put out his hand to a box of cigarettes at his side. But he put the book down, after looking at the page.

      She could keep her question in no longer.

      "What do you think of that," she said, nodding at the book.

      He filled his lungs with smoke and exhaled again slowly.

      "I think it's extraordinary," he said shortly.

      "In what way?"

      Again he paused before answering. Then he answered deliberately.

      "If human evidence is worth anything, those things happen," he said.

      "What things?"

      "The dead return."

      Maggie looked at him, aware of his deliberate attempt at dramatic brevity. He was watching the end of his cigarette with elaborate attention, and his face had that white, rather determined look that she had seen on it once or twice before, in the presence of a domestic crisis.

      "Do you really mean you believe that?" she said, with a touch of careful bitterness in her voice.

      "I do," he said, "or else—"

      "Well?"

      "Or else human evidence is worth nothing at all."

      Maggie understood him perfectly; but she realized that this was not an occasion to force issues. She still put the tone of faint irony into her voice.

      "You really believe that Cardinal Newman comes to Mr. Vincent's drawing room and raps on tables?"

      "I really believe that it is possible to get into touch with those whom we call dead. Each instance, of course, depends on its own evidence."

      "And Cardinal Newman?"

      "I have not studied the evidence for Cardinal Newman," remarked Laurie in a head-voice.

      "Let's have a look at that book," said Maggie impulsively.

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