conversing about other things."
I placed my cup and saucer carefully on the floor by my feet.
This was no time to be juggling crockery. "I'm very interested in
this. Tell me, Frances, how does one converse through automatic
writing? Doesn't the spirit have to-as it were-take over your hand?
Yet words have their origin in the mind; does that mean this Norton
is taking over your mind too? That hardly would seem to facilitate
two-way communication."
Frances had not been highly educated, but she was shrewd, and
she did not appreciate my skepticism. Her posture before had been
alert, lively, and yearning; but now her backbone turned to steel,
she seemed an inch or so taller, and her voice grew a frosty edge.
She said: "You don't believe me."
"No," I shook my head, "that's not it. I do believe you. I just
am not so sure as you are that this Norton-"
She interrupted me. "That's the second time you've called him
'this Norton' in that tone of voice. He's an emperor, he deserves
more respect, Fremont. He's a good spirit, but I don't think it
would do to make him angry. Emperors are powerful personages. You
never know what he might be capable of."
"All right." I felt as if I were in one of Sutro's deepest
baths, treading water as fast as I could, yet barely able to keep
my nose clear of it. "I apologize to you and to Emperor Norton. I
meant no disrespect. I was about to say, I'm not as sure as you
seem to be that he has come to help you."
She arched her neck and turned her head slightly so that she
regarded me out of the corners of her eyes. "What would convince
you?"
"A demonstration," I said suddenly, with conviction. "I should
like to observe the automatic writing. Also I think it would be a
good idea for us to find another authority in the field, now that
Mrs. Locke is no longer available. You mentioned Ingrid
Swann-''
"Yes, but she's a charlatan, or so they say. She's a celebrity,
and charges quite a lot of money for anything she does. Mrs. Locke
was supposed to be the most honest and reliable. But really, I
don't think I need an intermediary any longer, Fremont. I'm sure
the Emperor himself will teach me, through the messages in the
automatic writing. We have made a bargain, you see."
Oh Lord, this was getting worse and worse. Dr. Faustus
bargaining with the Devil could not have worried me more.
Frances continued: "He is to teach me about the spirit world,
and I am to do something he was unable to do when he left the land
of the living."
"Which is . . . ?" It gave me chills to ask.
"I don't know yet, he hasn't said. The Emperor has very
graciously decided to teach me first what I need to know, to
perfect our communication. Then he will tell me what it is that I'm
to do."
"Very gracious indeed,'' I said, and if Frances heard the irony
in my voice she gave no sign of it. Talking about the Emperor had
restored her serenity. "So, Frances," I asked, "may I be allowed to
observe when you next attempt the automatic writing?"
She smiled again, very sunny. "Well of course, Fremont. You're
my friend, I'm sure you can be his friend too."
"And when might we do this?"
"Tomorrow after luncheon, I should think. Jeremy is seldom at
home at that time, and I can say to Cook and Cora that I've gone to
my room for a rest. There's just one problem . . ." Her voice
trailed off.
I waited impatiently, thinking there were far more problems than
just one, and how I could solve any of them I had no idea
whatever.
Frances rose from her chair. "Come and stand by me at the
window, Fremont. There is something I want to show you." Beckoning,
she went to a long casement window that looked out over a narrow
strip of grass between her house and the one next door. Though the
houses along this section of Broadway are rather grand, they have
no yards to speak of.
When I was standing next to her, she put her hand on my shoulder
and her face near mine. "I don't really have anything to show you,"
she said softly, "but I want to tell you something that
I placed my cup and saucer carefully on the floor by my feet.
This was no time to be juggling crockery. "I'm very interested in
this. Tell me, Frances, how does one converse through automatic
writing? Doesn't the spirit have to-as it were-take over your hand?
Yet words have their origin in the mind; does that mean this Norton
is taking over your mind too? That hardly would seem to facilitate
two-way communication."
Frances had not been highly educated, but she was shrewd, and
she did not appreciate my skepticism. Her posture before had been
alert, lively, and yearning; but now her backbone turned to steel,
she seemed an inch or so taller, and her voice grew a frosty edge.
She said: "You don't believe me."
"No," I shook my head, "that's not it. I do believe you. I just
am not so sure as you are that this Norton-"
She interrupted me. "That's the second time you've called him
'this Norton' in that tone of voice. He's an emperor, he deserves
more respect, Fremont. He's a good spirit, but I don't think it
would do to make him angry. Emperors are powerful personages. You
never know what he might be capable of."
"All right." I felt as if I were in one of Sutro's deepest
baths, treading water as fast as I could, yet barely able to keep
my nose clear of it. "I apologize to you and to Emperor Norton. I
meant no disrespect. I was about to say, I'm not as sure as you
seem to be that he has come to help you."
She arched her neck and turned her head slightly so that she
regarded me out of the corners of her eyes. "What would convince
you?"
"A demonstration," I said suddenly, with conviction. "I should
like to observe the automatic writing. Also I think it would be a
good idea for us to find another authority in the field, now that
Mrs. Locke is no longer available. You mentioned Ingrid
Swann-''
"Yes, but she's a charlatan, or so they say. She's a celebrity,
and charges quite a lot of money for anything she does. Mrs. Locke
was supposed to be the most honest and reliable. But really, I
don't think I need an intermediary any longer, Fremont. I'm sure
the Emperor himself will teach me, through the messages in the
automatic writing. We have made a bargain, you see."
Oh Lord, this was getting worse and worse. Dr. Faustus
bargaining with the Devil could not have worried me more.
Frances continued: "He is to teach me about the spirit world,
and I am to do something he was unable to do when he left the land
of the living."
"Which is . . . ?" It gave me chills to ask.
"I don't know yet, he hasn't said. The Emperor has very
graciously decided to teach me first what I need to know, to
perfect our communication. Then he will tell me what it is that I'm
to do."
"Very gracious indeed,'' I said, and if Frances heard the irony
in my voice she gave no sign of it. Talking about the Emperor had
restored her serenity. "So, Frances," I asked, "may I be allowed to
observe when you next attempt the automatic writing?"
She smiled again, very sunny. "Well of course, Fremont. You're
my friend, I'm sure you can be his friend too."
"And when might we do this?"
"Tomorrow after luncheon, I should think. Jeremy is seldom at
home at that time, and I can say to Cook and Cora that I've gone to
my room for a rest. There's just one problem . . ." Her voice
trailed off.
I waited impatiently, thinking there were far more problems than
just one, and how I could solve any of them I had no idea
whatever.
Frances rose from her chair. "Come and stand by me at the
window, Fremont. There is something I want to show you." Beckoning,
she went to a long casement window that looked out over a narrow
strip of grass between her house and the one next door. Though the
houses along this section of Broadway are rather grand, they have
no yards to speak of.
When I was standing next to her, she put her hand on my shoulder
and her face near mine. "I don't really have anything to show you,"
she said softly, "but I want to tell you something that
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