His voice rose unhappily.
"That is no answer, Kate!" he cried. "Did you come from the dead
to preach to me? Tell me -- what am I to do -- leave my money to
Helen, or to the Institute?"
The cry of the old man vibrated in the air. No voice rose to
answer. "Kate!" he entreated. Still there was silence. "Speak to
me!" he commanded. The silence became eloquent with momentous
possibilities. So long did it endure, that the pain of the
suspense was actual. The voice of Rainey, choked and hoarse with
fear, broke it with an exclamation that held the sound of an
oath. He muttered thickly, "What in the name of -- "
He was hushed by a swift chorus of hisses. The voice of
Hallowell was again uplifted.
"Why won't she answer me?" he begged hysterically of Vance.
"Can't you -- can't the medium make her speak?"
During the last few moments the music from the organ had come
brokenly. The hands upon the keys moved unsteadily, drunkenly.
Now they halted altogether and in the middle of a chord the
music sank and died. Upon the now absolute silence the voice of
Vance, when he spoke, sounded strangely unfamiliar. It had lost
the priest-like intonation. Its confidence had departed. It
showed bewilderment and alarm.
"I -- I don't understand," stammered the showman. "Ask her
again. Put your question differently."
Carefully, slowly, giving each word its value, Mr. Hallowell
raised his voice in entreaty.
"Kate," he cried, "I have made a new will, leaving the money to
the poor.
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