The Parasite | Page 6

rigor. At the seventh her lids began to droop. At the tenth
her eyes were closed, and her breathing was slower and fuller than
usual. I tried as I watched to preserve my scientific calm, but a foolish,
causeless agitation convulsed me. I trust that I hid it, but I felt as a child

feels in the dark. I could not have believed that I was still open to such
weakness.
"She is in the trance," said Miss Penclosa.
"She is sleeping!" I cried.
"Wake her, then!"
I pulled her by the arm and shouted in her ear. She might have been
dead for all the impression that I could make. Her body was there on
the velvet chair. Her organs were acting--her heart, her lungs. But her
soul! It had slipped from beyond our ken. Whither had it gone? What
power had dispossessed it? I was puzzled and disconcerted.
"So much for the mesmeric sleep," said Miss Penclosa. "As regards
suggestion, whatever I may suggest Miss Marden will infallibly do,
whether it be now or after she has awakened from her trance. Do you
demand proof of it?"
"Certainly," said I.
"You shall have it." I saw a smile pass over her face, as though an
amusing thought had struck her. She stooped and whispered earnestly
into her subject's ear. Agatha, who had been so deaf to me, nodded her
head as she listened.
"Awake!" cried Miss Penclosa, with a sharp tap of her crutch upon the
floor. The eyes opened, the glazing cleared slowly away, and the soul
looked out once more after its strange eclipse.
We went away early. Agatha was none the worse for her strange
excursion, but I was nervous and unstrung, unable to listen to or answer
the stream of comments which Wilson was pouring out for my benefit.
As I bade her good-night Miss Penclosa slipped a piece of paper into
my hand.
"Pray forgive me," said she, "if I take means to overcome your

scepticism. Open this note at ten o'clock to-morrow morning. It is a
little private test."
I can't imagine what she means, but there is the note, and it shall be
opened as she directs. My head is aching, and I have written enough for
to-night. To- morrow I dare say that what seems so inexplicable will
take quite another complexion. I shall not surrender my convictions
without a struggle.
March 25. I am amazed, confounded. It is clear that I must reconsider
my opinion upon this matter. But first let me place on record what has
occurred.
I had finished breakfast, and was looking over some diagrams with
which my lecture is to be illustrated, when my housekeeper entered to
tell me that Agatha was in my study and wished to see me immediately.
I glanced at the clock and saw with sun rise that it was only half-past
nine.
When I entered the room, she was standing on the hearth-rug facing me.
Something in her pose chilled me and checked the words which were
rising to my lips. Her veil was half down, but I could see that she was
pale and that her expression was constrained.
"Austin," she said, "I have come to tell you that our engagement is at an
end."
I staggered. I believe that I literally did stagger. I know that I found
myself leaning against the bookcase for support.
"But--but----" I stammered. "This is very sudden, Agatha."
"Yes, Austin, I have come here to tell you that our engagement is at an
end."
"But surely," I cried, "you will give me some reason! This is unlike you,
Agatha. Tell me how I have been unfortunate enough to offend you."

"It is all over, Austin."
"But why? You must be under some delusion, Agatha. Perhaps you
have been told some falsehood about me. Or you may have
misunderstood something that I have said to you. Only let me know
what it is, and a word may set it all right."
"We must consider it all at an end."
"But you left me last night without a hint at any disagreement. What
could have occurred in the interval to change you so? It must have been
something that happened last night. You have been thinking it over and
you have disapproved of my conduct. Was it the mesmerism? Did you
blame me for letting that woman exercise her power over you? You
know that at the least sign I should have interfered."
"It is useless, Austin. All is over:"
Her voice was cold and measured; her manner strangely formal and
hard. It seemed to me that she was absolutely resolved not to be drawn
into any argument or explanation. As for me, I was shaking with
agitation, and I turned my face aside, so ashamed was I