The Haunted Woman & A Voyage to Arcturus. David Lindsay

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Название The Haunted Woman & A Voyage to Arcturus
Автор произведения David Lindsay
Жанр Языкознание
Серия
Издательство Языкознание
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9788027243778



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       David Lindsay

      The Haunted Woman & A Voyage to Arcturus

      2 Books in One Edition

      Published by

      Books

      - Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting -

       [email protected]

      2018 OK Publishing

      ISBN 978-80-272-4377-8

      Table of Contents

       A Voyage to Arcturus

       The Haunted Woman

      A Voyage to Arcturus

       Table of Contents

       Chapter 1. The Séance

       Chapter 2. In The Street

       Chapter 3. Starkness

       Chapter 4. The Voice

       Chapter 5. The Night Of Departure

       Chapter 6. Joiwind

       Chapter 7. Panawe

       Chapter 8. The Lusion Plain

       Chapter 9. Oceaxe

       Chapter 10. Tydomin

       Chapter 11. On Disscourn

       Chapter 12. Spadevil

       Chapter 13. The Wombflash Forest

       Chapter 14. Polecrab

       Chapter 15. Swaylone’s Island

       Chapter 16. Leehallfae

       Chapter 17. Corpang

       Chapter 18. Haunte

       Chapter 19. Sullenbode

       Chapter 20. Barey

       Chapter 21. Muspel

      Chapter 1. The Séance

       Table of Contents

      On a March evening, at eight o’clock, Backhouse, the medium—a fast-rising star in the psychic world—was ushered into the study at Prolands, the Hampstead residence of Montague Faull. The room was illuminated only by the light of a blazing fire. The host, eying him with indolent curiosity, got up, and the usual conventional greetings were exchanged. Having indicated an easy chair before the fire to his guest, the South American merchant sank back again into his own. The electric light was switched on. Faull’s prominent, clear-cut features, metallic-looking skin, and general air of bored impassiveness, did not seem greatly to impress the medium, who was accustomed to regard men from a special angle. Backhouse, on the contrary, was a novelty to the merchant. As he tranquilly studied him through half closed lids and the smoke of a cigar, he wondered how this little, thickset person with the pointed beard contrived to remain so fresh and sane in appearance, in view of the morbid nature of his occupation.

      “Do you smoke?” drawled Faull, by way of starting the conversation. “No? Then will you take a drink?”

      “Not at present, I thank you.”

      A pause.

      “Everything is satisfactory? The materialisation will take place?”

      “I see no reason to doubt it.”

      “That’s good, for I would not like my guests to be disappointed. I have your check written out in my pocket.”

      “Afterward will do quite well.”

      “Nine o’clock was the time specified, I believe?”

      “I fancy so.”

      The conversation continued to flag. Faull sprawled in his chair, and remained apathetic.

      “Would you care to hear what arrangements I have made?”

      “I am unaware that any are necessary, beyond chairs for your guests.”

      “I mean the decoration of the séance room, the music, and so forth.”

      Backhouse stared at his host. “But this is not a theatrical performance.”

      “That’s correct. Perhaps I ought to explain.... There will be ladies present, and ladies, you know, are aesthetically inclined.”

      “In that case I have no objection. I only hope they will enjoy the performance to the end.”

      He spoke rather dryly.

      “Well, that’s all right, then,” said Faull. Flicking his cigar into the fire, he got up and helped himself to whisky.

      “Will you come and see the room?”

      “Thank you, no. I prefer to have nothing to do with it till the time arrives.”

      “Then let’s go to see my sister, Mrs. Jameson, who is in the drawing room. She sometimes does me the kindness to act as my hostess, as I am unmarried.”

      “I will be delighted,” said Backhouse coldly.

      They found the lady alone, sitting by the open pianoforte in a pensive attitude. She had been playing Scriabin and was overcome. The medium took in her small, tight, patrician features and porcelain-like hands, and wondered how Faull came by such a sister. She received him bravely, with just a shade of quiet emotion. He was used to such receptions at the hands of the sex, and knew well how to respond to them.

      “What amazes me,” she half whispered, after ten minutes of graceful, hollow conversation, “is, if you must know it, not so much the manifestation itself—though that