“Certainly no one has mentioned it to me. And I have not seen it since I left the country.”
“How long ago was that?”
“That was … about September the twenty-seventh.”
“Thank you! …” (He opened the notebook and turned the pages a moment or two.) “And will you listen to this, Mr. Baxter?—‘Tell Laurie that the ground has sunk a little above my grave; and that cracks are showing at the sides.’ ”
“What is that book?” said the boy hoarsely.
The medium closed it and returned it to his pocket.
“That book, Mr. Baxter, contains a few extracts from some of the things you said during your trance. The sentence I have read is one of them, an answer given to a demand made by me that the control should give some unmistakable proof of her identity. She … you hesitated some time before giving that answer.”
“Who took the notes?”
“ Mrs. Stapleton. You can see the originals if you wish. I thought it might distress you to know that such notes had been taken; but I have had to risk that. We must not lose you, Mr. Baxter.”
Laurie sat, dumb and bewildered.
“Now all you have to do,” continued the medium serenely, “is to find out whether what has been said is correct or not. If it is not correct, there will be an end of the matter, if you choose. But if it is correct—”
“Stop; let me think!” cried Laurie.