"That is Kiowa, your control, Mrs. Marsh," announced Vance
eagerly. "Do you desire to speak to him?"
"Not tonight," Mrs. Marsh answered. She raised her voice. "Not
tonight, Kiowa," she repeated. "Thank you for coming. Good
night."
In deep, guttural accents, a man's voice came from the ceiling.
"Good night," it called. With a final, ringing wail, the music
of the guitar suddenly ceased.
Again rose the swelling low notes of the organ. Above it came
the quick pattering of footsteps.
The voice of Rainey, filled with alarm, cried, "some one touched
me!"
"Are you sure your hands are held?" demanded Vance reprovingly.
"Yes," panted Rainey, "both of them. But something put its hand
on my forehead. It was cold."
In an excited whisper, a voice in the circle cried, "Look,
look!" and before the eyes of all, a star rose in the darkness.
For a moment it wavered over the cabinet and then fluttered
swiftly across the room and remained stationary above the head
of the German Professor.
"There is your star, Professor," cried Vance. "When the
Professor is in the circle," he announced proudly, "that star
always appears."
He was interrupted by a startled exclamation from Lee.
"Something touched my face," explained the young man
apologetically, "and spoke to me."
The music sank to a murmur, and the room became alive with
swift, rushing sounds and soft whisperings.
The voice of Mrs. Marsh, low and eager, could be heard appealing
to an invisible presence.
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