The Argosy — page 202: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Mystery of Allan Grale. 185 “Will the friend, controlling, say whether she still sees the figure ? ” asked Mr. Tempest. “T do,” replied the medium. ‘But it is changed. He is like an image. He conveys to me that it was not by his own will he—he— what is it he says p—went away? I think that’s it. Not by his own will he went away.” “Ha!” ejaculated Mr. Grale. “He won’t tell me anything about it,” proceeded the medium. “He shakes his head. But in the air I see a luminous word. What is itP?—‘play?’ Is not that queer ?” There was no mistaking the intense interest of the audience, albeit the expression of each face was singularly varied. Richard Grale’s was quite fierce in its suspense. Mr. Tempest glanced round. “Is there no word beside?” he said. ‘*‘ This may be some mistake.” ‘Ts it that we shall ‘ play music ?’” suggested Lady Laura. ‘The controls often ask that, when the sitters need soothing.” The medium shook her head vigorously. ‘Is there some word to precede ‘ play ?’ ” suggested Mr. Tempest. “ Fair play, for instance P ” | ‘““That’s it, that’s it,” cried the medium. ‘I see itall now. Two words. ‘They are not fair play, but ‘foul play.’ The figure is fading—it 1s gone!” ‘“‘ May we ask any question ?” enquired Mr. Grale, eagerly. “Yes, certainly,” said Mr. Tempest; ‘only questions cannot be always answered.” | “Can the lady tell me anything about a certain box in my posses- sion?” Mr. Grale asked accordingly, with an air of timidity which sat upon him strangely. “The medium turned her face towards him. ‘I think I know the one you mean,” she muttered, after a pause. “I don’t like it,” she decided. ‘““Can you tell me what is in the box?” ‘“‘ Papers,” she answered, confidently. Then she added, “I am not sure but there are other things also—perhaps jewels.” “"That’s good!” said Mr. Grale. ‘‘ That’s a wonderful test, even down to her not being quite sure.” “J like a test that comes out in that natural, simple way,” observed Mr. ‘Tempest, smoothing his hands with complacency. The medium suddenly rose, and stepped slowly round the table, till she reached George Vivian’s chair. Amid the rapt attention of all present, she put her hand on his shoulder, and said softly : “You have a secret sorrow—a trouble, and nobody suspects it. You do not say I am wrong ?” George Vivian, whose head was bent, did not speak. “You know I am right,” she went on, in the calm, dreamy tone. ‘“‘'There are two influences in your life, there are in all lives—but in yours, they are both very strong and very distinct. One is controlled by your bad angel, the other by your good one. ‘The bad one is CoOnniclooolkks (CS Q)