“I say no!” he said, calling down the narrow laboratory and following his voice.  He spoke with the ghost of a lisp.  “Pardon my interrupting, sir.  The question interests me profoundly.  I hope I don’t intrude.  Excuse me, sir.  Make it personal.  Am I a—­fool, or an impostor?”

“Well,” parried Smithers, with all a South Kensington student’s want of polish, “that’s a bit personal.”

“Assume, sir, that I am an honest observer.”

“Well?”

“I have seen spirits, heard spirits, felt the touch of spirits,” He opened his pale eyes very widely.

“Fool, then,” said Smithers in an undertone which did not reach the ears of the spiritualist.

“You may have been deceived,” paraphrased Lewisham.

“I can assure you ... others can see, hear, feel.  I have tested, sir.  Tested!  I have some scientific training and I have employed tests.  Scientific and exhaustive tests!  Every possible way.  I ask you, sir—­have you given the spirits a chance?”

“It is only paying guineas to humbugs,” said Smithers.

“There you are!  Prejudice!  Here is a man denies the facts and consequently won’t see them, won’t go near them.”

“But you wouldn’t have every man in the three kingdoms, who disbelieved in spirits, attend seances before he should be allowed to deny?”

“Most assuredly yes.  Most assuredly yes!  He knows nothing about it till then.”

The argument became heated.  The little old gentleman was soon under way.  He knew a person of the most extraordinary gifts, a medium ...

“Paid?” asked Smithers.

“Would you muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn?” said Lagune promptly.

Smithers’ derision was manifest.

“Would you distrust a balance because you bought it?  Come and see.”  Lagune was now very excited and inclined to gesticulate and raise his voice.  He invited the whole class incontinently to a series of special seances.  “Not all at once—­the spirits—­new influences.”  But in sections.  “I warn you we may get nothing.  But the chances are ...  I would rejoice infinitely ...”

So it came about that Lewisham consented to witness a spirit-raising.  Miss Heydinger it was arranged should be there, and the sceptic Smithers, Lagune, his typewriter and the medium would complete the party.  Afterwards there was to be another party for the others.  Lewisham was glad he had the moral support of Smithers.  “It’s an evening wasted,” said Smithers, who had gallantly resolved to make the running for Lewisham in the contest for the Forbes medal.  “But I’ll prove my case.  You see if I don’t.”  They were given an address in Chelsea.

The house, when Lewisham found it at last, proved a large one, with such an air of mellowed dignity that he was abashed.  He hung his hat up for himself beside a green-trimmed hat of straw in the wide, rich-toned hall.  Through an open door he had a glimpse of a palatial study, book shelves bearing white busts, a huge writing-table lit by a green-shaded electric lamp and covered thickly with papers.  The housemaid looked, he thought, with infinite disdain at the rusty mourning and flamboyant tie, and flounced about and led him upstairs.