March 26. Wilson was, as I had anticipated, veryexultant over my conversion, and Miss Penclosa was alsodemurely pleased at the result of her experiment. Strange what a silent, colorless creature she is saveonly when she exercises her power! Even talking aboutit gives her color and life. She seems to take asingular interest in me. I cannot help observing howher eyes follow me about the room.

We had the most interesting conversation about her ownpowers. It is just as well to put her views on record,though they cannot, of course, claim any scientificweight.

"You are on the very fringe of the subject," said she,when I had expressed wonder at the remarkable instanceof suggestion which she had shown me. "I had no directinfluence upon Miss Marden when she came round to you. I was not even thinking of her that morning. What Idid was to set her mind as I might set the alarum of aclock so that at the hour named it would go off of itsown accord. If six months instead of twelve hours hadbeen suggested, it would have been the same."

"And if the suggestion had been to assassinate me?"

"She would most inevitably have done so."

"But this is a terrible power!" I cried.

"It is, as you say, a terrible power," she answeredgravely, "and the more you know of it the more terriblewill it seem to you."

"May I ask," said I, "what you meant when you said thatthis matter of suggestion is only at the fringe of it? What do you consider the essential?"

"I had rather not tell you."

I was surprised at the decision of her answer.

"You understand," said I, "that it is not out ofcuriosity I ask, but in the hope that I may find somescientific explanation for the facts with which youfurnish me."

"Frankly, Professor Gilroy," said she, "I am not at allinterested in science, nor do I care whether it can orcannot classify these powers."

"But I was hoping----"

"Ah, that is quite another thing. If you make it apersonal matter," said she, with the pleasantest ofsmiles, "I shall be only too happy to tell you anything you wish to know. Let me see; what was it youasked me? Oh, about the further powers. ProfessorWilson won't believe in them, but they are quite trueall the same. For example, it is possible for anoperator to gain complete command over his subject--presuming that the latter is a good one. Without anyprevious suggestion he may make him do whatever helikes."

"Without the subject's knowledge?"

"That depends. If the force were strongly exerted, hewould know no more about it than Miss Marden did whenshe came round and frightened you so. Or, if theinfluence was less powerful, he might be conscious ofwhat he was doing, but be quite unable to preventhimself from doing it."

"Would he have lost his own will power, then?"

"It would be over-ridden by another stronger one."

"Have you ever exercised this power yourself?"

"Several times."

"Is your own will so strong, then?"

"Well, it does not entirely depend upon that. Manyhave strong wills which are not detachable fromthemselves. The thing is to have the gift ofprojecting it into another person and superseding hisown. I find that the power varies with my own strengthand health."

"Practically, you send your soul into another person'sbody."

"Well, you might put it that way."

"And what does your own body do?"

"It merely feels lethargic."

"Well, but is there no danger to your own health?" Iasked.

"There might be a little. You have to be careful neverto let your own consciousness absolutely go; otherwise,you might experience some difficulty in finding yourway back again. You must always preserve theconnection, as it were. I am afraid I express myselfvery badly, Professor Gilroy, but of course I don'tknow how to put these things in a scientific way. I amjust giving you my own experiences and my ownexplanations."

Well, I read this over now at my leisure, and I marvelat myself! Is this Austin Gilroy, the man who has wonhis way to the front by his hard reasoning power and byhis devotion to fact? Here I am gravely retailing thegossip of a woman who tells me how her soul may beprojected from her body, and how, while she lies in alethargy, she can control the actions of people at adistance. Do I accept it? Certainly not. She mustprove and re-prove before I yield a point. But if I amstill a sceptic, I have at least ceased to be ascoffer. We are to have a sitting this evening, andshe is to try if she can produce any mesmeric effectupon me. If she can, it will make an excellentstarting-point for our investigation. No one canaccuse me, at any rate, of complicity. If she cannot,we must try and find some subject who will be likeCaesar's wife. Wilson is perfectly impervious.

10 P. M. I believe that I am on the threshold of anepoch-making investigation. To have the power ofexamining these phenomena from inside--to have anorganism which will respond, and at the same time abrain which will appreciate and criticise--that issurely a unique advantage. I am quite sure that Wilsonwould give five years of his life to be as susceptibleas I have proved myself to be.

There was no one present except Wilson and his wife. Iwas seated with my head leaning back, and MissPenclosa, standing in front and a little to the left,used the same long, sweeping strokes as with Agatha. At each of them a warm current of air seemed to strikeme, and to suffuse a thrill and glow all through mefrom head to foot. My eyes were fixed upon MissPenclosa's face, but as I gazed the features seemed toblur and to fade away. I was conscious only of her owneyes looking down at me, gray, deep, inscrutable. Larger they grew and larger, until they changedsuddenly into two mountain lakes toward which I seemedto be falling with horrible rapidity. I shuddered, andas I did so some deeper stratum of thought told me thatthe shudder represented the rigor which I had observedin Agatha. An instant later I struck the surface ofthe lakes, now joined into one, and down I went beneaththe water with a fulness in my head and a buzzing in myears. Down I went, down, down, and then with a swoopup again until I could see the light streaming brightlythrough the green water. I was almost at the surfacewhen the word "Awake!" rang through my head, and, witha start, I found myself back in the arm-chair, withMiss Penclosa leaning on her crutch, and Wilson, hisnote book in his hand, peeping over her shoulder. Noheaviness or weariness was left behind. On thecontrary, though it is only an hour or so since theexperiment, I feel so wakeful that I am more inclinedfor my study than my bedroom. I see quite a vista ofinteresting experiments extending before us, and am allimpatience to begin upon them.

March 27. A blank day, as Miss Penclosa goes withWilson and his wife to the Suttons'. Have begun Binetand Ferre's "Animal Magnetism." What strange, deepwaters these are! Results, results, results--and thecause an absolute mystery. It is stimulating to theimagination, but I must be on my guard against that. Let us have no inferences nor deductions, and nothingbut solid facts. I KNOW that the mesmeric trance istrue; I KNOW that mesmeric suggestion is true; I KNOWthat I am myself sensitive to this force. That is mypresent position. I have a large new note-book whichshall be devoted entirely to scientific detail.

Long talk with Agatha and Mrs. Marden in the eveningabout our marriage. We think that the summer vac. (the beginning of it) would be the best time for thewedding. Why should we delay? I grudge even those fewmonths. Still, as Mrs. Marden says, there are a goodmany things to be arranged.

March 28. Mesmerized again by Miss Penclosa. Experience much the same as before, save thatinsensibility came on more quickly. See Note-book Afor temperature of room, barometric pressure, pulse,and respiration as taken by Professor Wilson.

March 29. Mesmerized again. Details in Note-book A.

March 30. Sunday, and a blank day. I grudge anyinterruption of our experiments. At present theymerely embrace the physical signs which go with slight,with complete, and with extreme insensibility. Afterward we hope to pass on to the phenomena ofsuggestion and of lucidity. Professors havedemonstrated these things upon women at Nancy and atthe Salpetriere. It will be more convincing when awoman demonstrates it upon a professor, with a secondprofessor as a witness. And that I should be thesubject--I, the sceptic, the materialist! At least, Ihave shown that my devotion to science is greater thanto my own personal consistency. The eating of our ownwords is the greatest sacrifice which truth everrequires of us.

My neighbor, Charles Sadler, the handsome youngdemonstrator of anatomy, came in this evening to returna volume of Virchow's "Archives" which I had lent him. I call him young, but, as a matter of fact, he is ayear older than I am.

"I understand, Gilroy," said he, "that you are beingexperimented upon by Miss Penclosa.

"Well," he went on, when I had acknowledged it, "if Iwere you, I should not let it go any further. You willthink me very impertinent, no doubt, but, none theless, I feel it to be my duty to advise you to have nomore to do with her."

Of course I asked him why.

"I am so placed that I cannot enter into particulars asfreely as I could wish," said he. "Miss Penclosa isthe friend of my friend, and my position is a delicateone. I can only say this: that I have myself been thesubject of some of the woman's experiments, and thatthey have left a most unpleasant impression upon mymind."

He could hardly expect me to be satisfied with that,and I tried hard to get something more definite out ofhim, but without success. Is it conceivable that hecould be jealous at my having superseded him? Or is heone of those men of science who feel personally injuredwhen facts run counter to their preconceived opinions? He cannot seriously suppose that because he has somevague grievance I am, therefore, to abandon a series ofexperiments which promise to be so fruitful of results. He appeared to be annoyed at the light way in which Itreated his shadowy warnings, and we parted with somelittle coldness on both sides.

March 31. Mesmerized by Miss P.

April 1. Mesmerized by Miss P. (Note-book A.)

April 2. Mesmerized by Miss P. (Sphygmographic charttaken by Professor Wilson.)

April 3. It is possible that this course of mesmerismmay be a little trying to the general constitution. Agatha says that I am thinner and darker under theeyes. I am conscious of a nervous irritability which Ihad not observed in myself before. The least noise,for example, makes me start, and the stupidity of astudent causes me exasperation instead of amusement. Agatha wishes me to stop, but I tell her that everycourse of study is trying, and that one can neverattain a result with out paying some price for it. When she sees the sensation which my forthcoming paperon "The Relation between Mind and Matter" may make, shewill understand that it is worth a little nervous wearand tear. I should not be surprised if I got my F. R.S. over it.

Mesmerized again in the evening. The effect isproduced more rapidly now, and the subjective visionsare less marked. I keep full notes of each sitting. Wilson is leaving for town for a week or ten days, butwe shall not interrupt the experiments, which dependfor their value as much upon my sensations as on hisobservations.

April 4. I must be carefully on my guard. Acomplication has crept into our experiments which I hadnot reckoned upon. In my eagerness for scientificfacts I have been foolishly blind to the humanrelations between Miss Penclosa and myself. I canwrite here what I would not breathe to a living soul. The unhappy woman appears to have formed an attachmentfor me.

I should not say such a thing, even in the privacy ofmy own intimate journal, if it had not come to such apass that it is impossible to ignore it. For sometime,--that is, for the last week,--there have beensigns which I have brushed aside and refused to thinkof. Her brightness when I come, her dejection when Igo, her eagerness that I should come often, theexpression of her eyes, the tone of her voice--I triedto think that they meant nothing, and were, perhaps,only her ardent West Indian manner. But last night, asI awoke from the mesmeric sleep, I put out my hand,unconsciously, involuntarily, and clasped hers. When Icame fully to myself, we were sitting with them locked,she looking up at me with an expectant smile. And thehorrible thing was that I felt impelled to say what sheexpected me to say. What a false wretch I should havebeen! How I should have loathed myself to-day had Iyielded to the temptation of that moment! But, thankGod, I was strong enough to spring up and hurry fromthe room. I was rude, I fear, but I could not, no, ICOULD not, trust myself another moment. I, agentleman, a man of honor, engaged to one of thesweetest girls in England--and yet in a moment ofreasonless passion I nearly professed love for thiswoman whom I hardly know. She is far older than myselfand a cripple. It is monstrous, odious; and yet theimpulse was so strong that, had I stayed another minutein her presence, I should have committed myself. Whatwas it? I have to teach others the workings of ourorganism, and what do I know of it myself? Was it thesudden upcropping of some lower stratum in my nature--abrutal primitive instinct suddenly asserting itself? Icould almost believe the tales of obsession by evilspirits, so overmastering was the feeling.

Well, the incident places me in a most unfortunateposition. On the one hand, I am very loath to abandona series of experiments which have already gone so far,and which promise such brilliant results. On theother, if this unhappy woman has conceived a passionfor me---- But surely even now I must have made somehideous mistake. She, with her age and her deformity! It is impossible. And then she knew about Agatha. Sheunderstood how I was placed. She only smiled out ofamusement, perhaps, when in my dazed state I seized herhand. It was my half-mesmerized brain which gave it ameaning, and sprang with such bestial swiftness to meetit. I wish I could persuade myself that it was indeedso. On the whole, perhaps, my wisest plan would be topostpone our other experiments until Wilson's return. I have written a note to Miss Penclosa, therefore,making no allusion to last night, but saying that apress of work would cause me to interrupt our sittingsfor a few days. She has answered, formally enough, tosay that if I should change my mind I should find herat home at the usual hour.

10 P. M. Well, well, what a thing of straw I am! I amcoming to know myself better of late, and the more Iknow the lower I fall in my own estimation. Surely Iwas not always so weak as this. At four o'clock Ishould have smiled had any one told me that I should goto Miss Penclosa's to-night, and yet, at eight, I wasat Wilson's door as usual. I don't know how itoccurred. The influence of habit, I suppose. Perhapsthere is a mesmeric craze as there is an opium craze,and I am a victim to it. I only know that as I workedin my study I became more and more uneasy. I fidgeted. I worried. I could not concentrate my mind upon thepapers in front of me. And then, at last, almostbefore I knew what I was doing, I seized my hat andhurried round to keep my usual appointment.

We had an interesting evening. Mrs. Wilson was presentduring most of the time, which prevented theembarrassment which one at least of us must have felt. Miss Penclosa's manner was quite the same as usual, andshe expressed no surprise at my having come in spite ofmy note. There was nothing in her bearing to show thatyesterday's incident had made any impression upon her,and so I am inclined to hope that I overrated it.

April 6 (evening). No, no, no, I did not overrate it. I can no longer attempt to conceal from myself thatthis woman has conceived a passion for me. It ismonstrous, but it is true. Again, tonight, I awokefrom the mesmeric trance to find my hand in hers, andto suffer that odious feeling which urges me to throwaway my honor, my career, every thing, for the sake ofthis creature who, as I can plainly see when I am awayfrom her influence, possesses no single charm uponearth. But when I am near her, I do not feel this. She rouses something in me, something evil, something Ihad rather not think of. She paralyzes my betternature, too, at the moment when she stimulates myworse. Decidedly it is not good for me to be near her.

Last night was worse than before. Instead of flying Iactually sat for some time with my hand in hers talkingover the most intimate subjects with her. We spoke ofAgatha, among other things. What could I have beendreaming of? Miss Penclosa said that she wasconventional, and I agreed with her. She spoke once ortwice in a disparaging way of her, and I did notprotest. What a creature I have been!

Weak as I have proved myself to be, I am still strongenough to bring this sort of thing to an end. It shallnot happen again. I have sense enough to fly when Icannot fight. From this Sunday night onward I shallnever sit with Miss Penclosa again. Never! Let theexperiments go, let the research come to an end; anything is better than facing this monstrous temptationwhich drags me so low. I have said nothing to MissPenclosa, but I shall simply stay away. She can tellthe reason without any words of mine.

April 7. Have stayed away as I said. It is a pity toruin such an interesting investigation, but it would bea greater pity still to ruin my life, and I KNOW that Icannot trust myself with that woman.

11 P. M. God help me! What is the matter with me? AmI going mad? Let me try and be calm and reason withmyself. First of all I shall set down exactly whatoccurred.

It was nearly eight when I wrote the lines with whichthis day begins. Feeling strangely restless and uneasy,I left my rooms and walked round to spend the eveningwith Agatha and her mother. They both remarked that Iwas pale and haggard. About nine Professor Pratt-Haldane came in, and we played a game of whist. Itried hard to concentrate my attention upon the cards,but the feeling of restlessness grew and grew until Ifound it impossible to struggle against it. I simplyCOULD not sit still at the table. At last, in the verymiddle of a hand, I threw my cards down and, with somesort of an incoherent apology about having anappointment, I rushed from the room. As if in a dreamI have a vague recollection of tearing through thehall, snatching my hat from the stand, and slamming thedoor behind me. As in a dream, too, I have theimpression of the double line of gas-lamps, and mybespattered boots tell me that I must have run down themiddle of the road. It was all misty and strange andunnatural. I came to Wilson's house; I saw Mrs. Wilsonand I saw Miss Penclosa. I hardly recall what wetalked about, but I do remember that Miss P. shook thehead of her crutch at me in a playful way, and accusedme of being late and of losing interest in ourexperiments. There was no mesmerism, but I stayed sometime and have only just returned.

My brain is quite clear again now, and I can think overwhat has occurred. It is absurd to suppose that it ismerely weakness and force of habit. I tried to explainit in that way the other night, but it will no longersuffice. It is something much deeper and more terriblethan that. Why, when I was at the Mardens' whist-table, I was dragged away as if the noose of a rope hadbeen cast round me. I can no longer disguise it frommyself. The woman has her grip upon me. I am in herclutch. But I must keep my head and reason it out andsee what is best to be done.

But what a blind fool I have been! In my enthusiasmover my research I have walked straight into the pit,although it lay gaping before me. Did she not herselfwarn me? Did she not tell me, as I can read in my ownjournal, that when she has acquired power over asubject she can make him do her will? And she hasacquired that power over me. I am for the moment atthe beck and call of this creature with the crutch. Imust come when she wills it. I must do as she wills. Worst of all, I must feel as she wills. I loathe herand fear her, yet, while I am under the spell, she candoubtless make me love her.

There is some consolation in the thought, then, thatthose odious impulses for which I have blamed myself donot really come from me at all. They are alltransferred from her, little as I could have guessed itat the time. I feel cleaner and lighter for thethought.

April 8. Yes, now, in broad daylight, writing coollyand with time for reflection, I am compelled to confirmevery thing which I wrote in my journal last night. Iam in a horrible position, but, above all, I must notlose my head. I must pit my intellect against herpowers. After all, I am no silly puppet, to dance atthe end of a string. I have energy, brains, courage. For all her devil's tricks I may beat her yet. May! IMUST, or what is to become of me?

Let me try to reason it out! This woman, by her ownexplanation, can dominate my nervous organism. She canproject herself into my body and take command of it. She has a parasite soul; yes, she is a parasite, amonstrous parasite. She creeps into my frame as thehermit crab does into the whelk's shell. I ampowerless What can I do? I am dealing with forces ofwhich I know nothing. And I can tell no one of mytrouble. They would set me down as a madman. Certainly, if it got noised abroad, the universitywould say that they had no need of a devil-riddenprofessor. And Agatha! No, no, I must face it alone.