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days, and so on. Tecumseh would doubtless be extremely angry, and would scold the sitter

without the least regard to his dignity.

Lanny dutifully went back and delivered these messages; and the armament king of Europe

solemnly agreed to humble his pride before the chieftain of the Iroquois. Lanny said: "I don't

know what he really is, but he acts like a personage, and you have to treat him that way. You

have given him offense, and you will have to pretend that you are petitioning for pardon."

Lanny said it with a smile, but the Knight Commander and Grand Officer was serious; he

replied that if it would get him a message from the source desired he would submit to torture

from real Indians.

So Lanny took him down to his studio, and showed him some of Marcel's paintings on the

walls—though he probably didn't have much mind for art just then. The medium came in, and

said: "Bon jour, monsieur" Zaharoff answered: "Bon jour, madame" and they seated

themselves in the two chairs which Lanny had moved into place for them. He waited until he

saw the woman going into her trance successfully; then he went out, closing the studio door

behind him.

Beauty and Irma had been in to Cannes for shopping. They came back; and of course it would

no longer be possible to keep the secret from them. No need to, anyhow, for the matter would

doubtless be settled this time; the duquesa would "come through," or Zaharoff would give up.

Lanny took them into his mother's room and told them who had attended Madame's seance in

Dieppe. Both the ladies were excited, for Zaharoff was the same kind of royalty as Irma, and

sovereigns do not often meet their social equals. "Oh, do you think he'll stay for dinner?"

inquired Beauty.

Anyhow, the ladies would dress; but not too much, for Monsieur Jean wouldn't be dressed.

Lanny explained the reason for the name. Then he walked up and down on the loggia in front of

the villa, watching the sun set behind the dark mountains across the Golfe Juan. Many times he

had watched it, as far back as his memory went. He had seen war come, and vessels burning

and sinking in that blue expanse of water. He had watched the tangled fates of human beings

woven on these grounds; love and hate, jealousy and greed, suffering and fear; he had seen people

dancing, laughing and chatting, and more than once crying. Marcel had sat here with his

burned-off face, meeting his friends in the protecting darkness. Here, too, Kurt had played his

music, Rick had outlined his plays, and Robbie had negotiated big munitions- deals. Now

Lanny walked, waiting to hear if the spirit of a noble Spanish lady was going to speak to her

Greek husband through the personality of an American redskin, dead a couple of centuries

and using the vocal cords of a Polish peasant woman who had been a servant in the home of a

Warsaw merchant. One thing you could say about life, it provided you with variety!

XII

The old man came up from the studio alone, walking with his head thrust forward, as he

always did, as if smelling his way. Lanny went to meet him, and he said, with unwonted

intensity: "My boy, this is really a disturbing thing!"

"You got some results?"

"I got what certainly seemed results. Tell me, are you convinced of this woman's honesty?"

"We are all convinced of that."

"How long have you known her?"

"For some eighteen months."

"You think she is really in a trance when she pretends to be?"

"She would have to be a skilled actress if that were not true; we have watched her closely, and

we don't think she is intelligent enough to fool us."

"You are sure she doesn't know who I am?"

"I can't imagine how she could have found out. No one but my father knew about the matter,

and you know that my father is not a loose talker. When you wrote me the appointment, I took

the precaution to tear up your letter and throw it into the sea."

"Lanny, it was just as if my wife was sitting in the next room, sending me messages. You can

understand how important this is to me."

"It is important to all of us, for we all get communications like that."

"She reminded me of things from my childhood, and from hers; things we both knew but which

nobody else knows—at least, not that I can think of."

They went inside, for it grows chilly on the Riviera the moment the sun is down. The old

man wanted to know all that Lanny thought about these phenomena, the most mysterious

which confront the modern thinker. When Lanny told him of the books of Geley and Osty,

Zaharoff took out his notebook and jotted down the names; also the two great volumes of Pierre

Janet—he promised to study them all. His education had been neglected, but now he would try

to find out about the subconscious mind and its powers, so different from those of a munitions

king! He had missed a great deal, and was only beginning to be aware of it when life was

ebbing.

The ladies came in: two most elegant ladies, about whom he had heard; concerning Irma

nothing but good. He was extraordinarily courteous; he hoped for a favor from them, and