“At the very first, as I told you, or nearly so,—­I wish to be absolutely accurate,—­Chichester began to be aware of a strengthening of his will.  At this time I was almost angrily unaware of any change either in him or in myself.  At subsequent sittings—­I speak of the earlier ones—­Chichester reiterated more strongly his assertion of beneficent alteration in himself.  I did not believe him, though I did believe he was absolutely sincere in his supposition.  It seemed to me that he was ‘suggestioned,’ partly perhaps by his implicit trust in me, partly by his own desire that something curious should happen.  However, still playing a part in pursuance of my resolve not to let Chichester know my real object in this matter, I pretended that I, too, perceived an alteration in him, as if his personality were strengthening.  And not once, but on several occasions, I spoke of the change in him as almost exactly corresponding with the change that had taken place in me when I sat with my Hindu friend.

“All this time, with a force encouraged by the secret anger within me, I violently, at last almost furiously, willed that Chichester should become entranced.

“But at length, though I willed furiously, I felt as if I were not willing with genuine strength, as if I could not will with genuine strength any longer.  It is difficult, almost impossible, to explain to you exactly the sensation that gradually overspread me; but it used always to seem to me, when I self-consciously exerted my will, as if I held within me some weapon almost irresistible, as if I forced it forward, as if its advance, caused by me, could not be withstood.  I now felt as if I still possessed this weapon, but could not induce it to move.  It was there, like a heavy, useless thing, almost like a burden upon me.

“And Chichester continued to assert that he felt stronger, more resolute, less plastic.

“Things went on thus till something within me, what we call instinct, I suppose, became uneasy.  I heard a warning voice which said to me, ’Stop while there is time!’ And I resolved to obey it.

“One night, when very late Chichester and I took our hands from the table in his little room, I said that I thought we had had enough of the sittings, that very little happened, that perhaps he and I were not really en rapport, and that it seemed to me useless to continue them.  I suppose I expected Chichester to acquiesce.  I say I suppose so, because till that moment he had always acquiesced in any proposition of mine.  Yet I remember that I did not feel genuine surprise at what actually happened.”

Mr. Harding stopped, took a handkerchief from his pocket, lifted the brim of his hat, and passed the handkerchief over his forehead two or three times.

“What happened was this, that Chichester resisted my proposal, and that I found myself obliged to comply with his will instead of, as usual, imposing mine upon him.