Possessed Part 20

(_From Penelope's Diary_)

_At Dr. Leroy's Sanitarium._

I understand why people kill themselves. There was an hour last night, that horrible hour between four and five (I have seen so many hospital patients die then), when I was resolved to kill myself. Seraphine was sleeping in the next room--she has not left me since I came to this place yesterday--and I longed to waken her for a last talk, but decided not to. What was the use? I must settle this for myself--whether it was possible for me to go on living or not, I must fight out this battle alone--with my own soul.

I decided to kill myself because I felt sure, after what had happened, that I was condemned to madness. This is evidently a place where mad people are treated. They call it a Sanitarium, but I know what that means. Seraphine speaks of Dr. Leroy (I have only seen him once) as a wonderful spiritual healer and she says I will love him because he is so kind and wise; but none of this deceives me. I know they have brought me to a place for mad people.

Here is a thought that makes me waver--what if death is not annihilation? What if I find myself in some new state where there are other horrors and terrors--worse than those that I have suffered? The Voices tell me this--taunting me. And then Christopher! He loves me so much! He will be so sorry, if I do this!

While I was hesitating--it was just before dawn--Seraphine came to me.

She talked to me, soothed me, and, at last, she told me the truth about myself. She said that all my troubles come from this, that I am possessed by an evil spirit! _Literally possessed!_ This is what she was leading up to when she told me about the great company of earth-bound souls that are hovering about us since the war, striving to come back!

The extraordinary part of it is that I no longer regard this as a fantastic impossibility. I no longer reject it. I am not terrified or horrified by the thought, but almost welcome it, since it offers an explanation of what has happened that does not involve madness. I am either possessed by an evil spirit or I am mad, and of these two I prefer the evil spirit. That, at least, is a definite cause carrying with it the hope of a cure, for we read that evil spirits were cast out in olden times, and they may be again.

One thing convinces me that what Seraphine says is true--I did something at Roberta's party that my own soul or spirit, even in madness, could never have done. I accused Christopher of committing a crime. I accused him of treason! Christopher! My love! Seraphine bears witness to this.

I _must_ be possessed by an evil spirit! This would account for something else that happened last night. I was just falling into a troubled sleep when--_no, I cannot tell it!_

Christopher sent me a gorgeous basket of roses this morning with his love. He loves me in spite of the devil and all his angels--he said that to Seraphine. How wonderful! I wish they would let me see him, and yet--I am ashamed. How can I ever face Christopher again?

There is something strange about Roberta Vallis--I feel it. She did not come in to speak to me or say good-bye before I left her apartment--that morning. Why not? I asked Seraphine if there was anything the matter with Roberta--had I done anything to offend her?--but the only answer I could get was that Roberta is not well. Seraphine is keeping something back--I am sure of it.

Seraphine knows of two cases where evil spirits have been cast out. One was a New York silversmith who had never shown any talent for art, but who suddenly began to paint remarkable pictures, which sold for good prices. He was desperately unhappy, however, because he felt sure that he was becoming insane. He had visions of scenes that he was impelled to paint and he suffered from clairaudient hallucinations. Two well known neurologists declared that he was a victim of paranoia and must soon be confined in an asylum. This man was brought back to a normal condition by Dr. Leroy's treatment, and the first step in his improvement was when he grasped the idea that his abnormal symptoms were due to possession.

This satisfied his reason and drove away his fears (I understand that), especially when he was a.s.sured that an evil spirit can be driven out by the power of G.o.d's love as easily as an evil germ or humour of the body can be driven out by the same agency. What a blessed thought!

Seraphine says we must obey the safeguarding rules with which G.o.d has surrounded the operation of His love, if we would enjoy the blessed guardians.h.i.+p of that love. We must not expect G.o.d to change His rules for us. _We must cleanse our hearts of evil!_

The other case of possession was not a patient of Dr. Leroy, but came under Seraphine's notice while she was attending a sufferer. This was Alice E----, a charming, refined girl about twenty, the daughter of well-bred people who lived in Boston. They were somewhat stricter in family discipline than most American parents, consequently Alice, from babyhood up, was guarded and protected in every possible way. She and her mother were almost inseparable companions. There was absolutely no way in which Alice could have become acquainted with people of the underworld, or heard the vile expressions that she afterward used in an evil personality. Her face showed unusual innocence and purity, her disposition was affectionate and serene.

But when she was about seventeen Alice began to have strange spells of irritability; she would grow sullen and stubborn, and soon these ugly moods became more violent; she would burst into horrible tirades against her father and mother and declare that she couldn't stand their goody-goody ways, that they were so d.a.m.ned pious they made her sick.

Then rage and l.u.s.t seemed to possess her and she would talk about men in a shocking way, using unspeakable words, while the expression of her face and the posture of her body became those of a wanton.

At first Alice could not tell when these attacks were coming on, but later, when she was about twenty, she knew and would beg her family to keep "that dreadful, horrible girl" from taking hold of her. "She's going to change me! Oh, keep her away! Don't let her get me!" she would cry out in terror.

Through the last days of the poor girl's life the struggle between the real Alice and the gutter woman went on almost constantly. Alice would implore Seraphine to make the wicked girl go away so that when the end came (she knew she was going to die) she might be herself. But the evil spirit had firm possession and a few hours before her death Alice's mouth was coa.r.s.e and sensual, her eyes were wicked, her whole expression revolting.

Seraphine sent word to the family that they must not come into the room; then, kneeling by the bedside of the dying girl, she nerved herself for a last struggle between the powers of good and evil. With all the strength of her pure soul she invoked G.o.d's love to restore and heal this afflicted child ere she departed for the Great Beyond; and, an hour before the end, the family were admitted to the chamber and looked upon Alice's pillowed face, sweetly smiling, beautiful and unsullied, as they had always known her and cherished her. _G.o.d's love had prevailed!_

When Seraphine left me my mind had become calm and hopeful and I had given up my wicked purpose. I fell asleep praying that G.o.d would save me from the powers of darkness, that His love would watch over me and protect me from all evil, especially from that dream on the Fall River steamboat, the one that has tortured me so many nights.

I awakened suddenly to the knowledge that a terrible thing had happened, an incredible thing. I was alone in my bedroom, _and yet I was not alone_! I had escaped one degradation only to face another. I was awake, fully awake; yet I was more abdominally tempted than ever I was in my dreams. With all the strength of my soul I fought against the aggressions of a real presence that--_that touched me!_ I cried out, I struggled, I begged G.o.d to save me or else to let me die. And then Seraphine came to me again in my agony.

But before she came the Voices sounded worse than ever, nearer about me than ever. Why was I such a fool? Why was I so obstinate in resisting my fate? Was I not Their appointed sacrifice? Why not be resigned to the inevitable? Why not...? They laughed and fluttered close to me with vile murmurings while I prayed against them with all my strength.

"_G.o.d of love, guard Thy child; G.o.d of power, save Thy child_," I prayed.

A harsh, cruel voice broke in to tell me that Roberta Vallis was dead, she died of terror because she had defied Them, as I had defied Them; and, in three days, the Voice said that I, too, would die of terror.

Three days remained to me, three nights with my dream and a hideous awakening, unless--

Then Seraphine opened my bedroom door and I sobbed in her arms a long time before I could speak.

"Is--is Roberta dead?" I gasped.

She looked at me strangely and I knew it was true.

"Yes, dear," she answered gently, and tried to comfort me again, but it was in vain.

"I have only three days to live, Seraphine," I said solemnly. "Three days and three nights!"

Then I told her what the evil spirit had said, and she listened with grave attention.

CHAPTER XV

DR. LEROY

There may now be presented, as bearing upon Mrs. Wells' strange illness, a conversation which took place between Dr. William Owen and Dr. Edgar Leroy, the psychic healer, on the evening following Penelope's entrance into the Leroy sanitarium on Fortieth Street, just south of Bryant Park.

Owen began in his bluff, outspoken way: "Doctor, I have put into your hands a lady I am very fond of, in spite of the fact that your theories contradict everything I stand for. Not very complimentary, is it?--but I may as well tell you the truth. Mrs. Wells has not improved under my treatment, I admit that, and I have turned her over to you as a sort of last hope."

Leroy's rather stern face brightened with a flash of humor.

"The same thing has happened to other physicians, doctor. I believe you diagnose this case as sh.e.l.l shock?"

"Unquestionably--with unfavorable developments, dual personality complications--I wrote you."

"Yes. I spent several hours with Mrs. Wells last evening when she arrived. She was agitated, but I soothed her and explained certain things that had troubled her, and, gradually, she grew calm. I think I can help her."

In spite of himself Dr. Owen was favorably impressed both by the man and his surroundings. There was nothing garish or freakish or Oriental about the place, which was furnished with the business-like simplicity of an ordinary doctor's office. And Leroy certainly had a fine head--a clean-shaven face with heavy black brows under which shone grave, kindly eyes that twinkled now and then in good-natured understanding. He was about ten years younger than his colleague.

"May I ask, doctor, if there is any scientific evidence to prove the existence of this healing spiritual power that you use or think you use?" In spite of himself, Owen put this question a little patronizingly.

"There are the results--the cures. And there is the evidence of Christianity. Spiritual power is the basis of Christianity, isn't it?"

A deeper note sounded here, and the hard-headed materialist began to realize that he was in the presence of an unusual personality, developed by suffering and struggle, a man who had finally reached a haven of sure and comforting belief. There was great kindness in this face as well as strength.

"Nothing else? Is there no evidence similar to that which convinces us that the X-rays really exist?"