The Royal Ghost

by Linda Stratmann

  ‘What happens now?’ she asked. ‘What is my task?’

  ‘You must find something that has been hidden,’ said Hope. ‘Mrs Scarletti and Mrs Inskip must think very hard about the object you must find, and where it may be discovered. They are willing you to find it. You must try to receive their ideas, and solve the mystery.’

  Mina was in two minds about knowing what Louisa and Enid were thinking about. On the one hand, she was reluctant to enter into their thoughts and on the other they were all too apparent. It was certainly nothing to do with the task she had been set. Enid and her mother made an effort to look as though they were concentrating, both closing their eyes. Enid had spread her fingers and placed her hands over her face but Mina could see that underneath she was on the verge of giggles.

  ‘Now,’ said Mr Hope, taking Mina gently by the elbow, ‘let me see if I can transmit to your mind a picture of what is being thought of.’

  ‘Please may I have a few moments to concentrate?’

  ‘But of course.’

  Mina glanced quickly about the room. Mr Hope would not have committed to memory the precise manner in which the parlour was arranged and Louisa and Enid were too preoccupied with their own requirements to pay much attention to it. Mina, on the other hand, managed the household and issued instructions to the cook, Rose and the charlady. Nothing seemed to be missing, or out of its usual place, apart from the vase that Mr Hope had replaced and was not quite correct. Mr Hope, she reasoned, wanted her to succeed, so her task would not be too difficult, but on the other hand it would not be so simple that she might easily do it by observation. It was then that she noticed that her mother was no longer wearing the little pearl brooch. Such an item, precious in every sense of the word, would never have been treated with carelessness or disrespect. When her mother was not wearing it, it was on her dressing table in a jewel case that had also been a gift from her father.

  ‘Are you ready to make your guess?’ asked Mr Hope. Mina felt a firm pressure on her elbow as his clasp intensified. She was sure that he was about to offer some guidance but she needed none, and if she did accuse him of steering her he would naturally deny it.

  ‘Yes, I am. But I beg of you, Mr Hope, do not try to assist me. It is well meant, I know, but I do not want anyone to imagine that you are directing me, and you might do so by accident.’ Hope gave her a cautious glance, and seemed to be on the verge of protesting, but he let go without comment and she crossed the room unaided, stopped at a sidetable adorned with trinkets, took up a small decorative box and opened it, finding inside, as she suspected, the pearl brooch.

  ‘Why I can hardly believe it!’ pouted Enid. ‘How did you know so quickly? You must have been listening at the door.’

  ‘Surely it is because I can read your mind?’ said Mina teasingly. ‘Or could there be another reason?’

  Hope gazed on Mina with wonder and admiration, like a scientist who had just made a great discovery. ‘I doubt it. You are miraculous, Miss Scarletti. I can see that you might have noticed that Mrs Scarletti had removed the brooch, but to know so swiftly and surely exactly where it lay, that is an ability far beyond mere guesswork. I wonder what your secret is? Perhaps you do not know it yourself?’

  ‘I will tell you my secret,’ Mina replied. ‘I did not need to guess, I did not listen at the door, I did not receive any assistance from another individual and I certainly did not read anyone’s mind. This brooch has great sentimental value and I cannot imagine mother treating it other than with respect and tenderness. This box was purchased by my mother and father while on their honeymoon. Where else could such a treasure be?’ She limped over to Louisa and gently helped her replace the brooch. As she did so she saw tears glimmer in her mother’s eyes.

  Hope nodded knowingly. ‘Your claim does not surprise me because I have heard such explanations before. I am sure that you imagine that you deduced the answer in the way you have described, but I urge you to entertain the possibility that the idea was placed there by the efforts of your mother and sister to will you into making the discovery.’

  ‘I was trying very hard indeed,’ said Enid. ‘Mina, did you not feel my thoughts?’

  ‘I felt them very strongly, but only because they were apparent in your expression.’

  ‘You do not believe, Miss Scarletti, because you do not wish to,’ sighed Mr Hope, his manner more gentle than accusing, ‘but there are many scientific men who share my opinion. Some of them have proposed that there is an organ of sensation, a part of the brain perhaps currently undiscovered, which can enable thoughts to pass from one person to another. But there are others who go still further – they say that the mind can act upon another mind without the need for any bodily organ, and I am inclined to that latter belief.’

  Mina understood. ‘You speak of the soul or the spirit, and its existence independently of the physical body.’

  ‘I do. Moreover, I think that what is happening here, and indeed in any kind of mental communication, both with the living and the dead, is a force of nature. In a very few years from now, if enough men put their energy into the work, thought transference will be proven and become an accepted scientific fact, and we will laugh at our former ignorance that we ever doubted it. At present, only those with the most sensitive and developed minds can achieve it, but one day, with proper education and guidance, we might all aspire to it, although there will inevitably be classes of persons whose skills in that direction will never be very advanced.’

  ‘I look forward to that time very much,’ said Mina warmly. ‘Just imagine the world if we were all able to exercise our brains and discover what everyone else thought of us, or learn each other’s secrets.’

  Louisa looked shocked. ‘It would be impossible to live in society!’

  Enid said nothing, but her face flushed.

  Hope smiled knowingly. ‘I know precisely what Miss Scarletti is thinking. She thinks I am a great fool.’

  ‘How very rude!’ snapped Enid angrily. ‘Mina, how could you?’

  ‘Oh, I am quite used to that,’ he said with a laugh. ‘When one speaks of new ideas and new discoveries, there are always doubters. Today, Miss Scarletti, you are a doubter, but I will win you over in time, I am quite certain of it.’

  No one showed any inclination to continue the game, and Mr Hope did not press the point; he had clearly, thought Mina, achieved what he had come there to do. Soon afterwards he pleaded another engagement that would, to his great regret, oblige him to depart.

  When Mr Hope had left them, Enid turned on Mina. ‘Why are you so unpleasant to Mr Hope? He is a great man, a brave man, and it is an honour for us to have him come here. If you are not better tempered he might not call again.’

  ‘But don’t you see – he wants to convert me to his way of thinking. If I continue to doubt him then he will only come here again and again to repeat his efforts. If you wish him to continue to visit us I think you are quite safe in that respect.’

  Enid said nothing and Louisa patted her hair.

  Twenty-Three

  On the evening of Mystic Stefan’s demonstration Mr Hope was kind enough to call on the Scarletti household with a carriage to convey Louisa, Enid, Mina and Richard to Mrs Peasgood’s. All three ladies were treated with the same warm courtesy and gallant attention, but as he handed Enid into her place there was something about the glance that passed between them that Mina found worrying. She began to hope for the early return of Mr Inskip and a removal of Enid back to London and out of danger. Richard, who had been out until very late the previous night and then slept through breakfast, was looking uncommonly cheerful, which Mina feared was to do with the absence abroad of Nellie’s husband.

  ‘Was there no difficulty about my attending this event?’ asked Mina, when they were on their way. ‘You know, of course, that after certain incidents I was declared persona non grata at séances. Or does Mystic Stefan not know of my reputation for chasing away the spirits?’

  Mr Hope chuckled. ‘This is not
a séance, Miss Scarletti. Mystic Stefan assures me that he does not receive messages from those who have passed, although many of the mysteries he performs are beyond my powers to explain, and quite probably beyond his also. But you are all my very special guests, and while believers in the unexplained are always welcome, doubters are doubly so, for they will one day swell the ranks of the believers.’

  Those doubters, Mina knew, would include most members of Mrs Peasgood’s select circle. She only hoped that the evening would pass without any upsetting incidents.

  Mrs Peasgood was usually the best of hostesses, conducting her gatherings with smooth and practised assurance, but that evening she looked uncomfortable, as if she was already regretting giving in to the entreaties of her friends and nervous about what Mystic Stefan might do. Mrs Mowbray, however, appeared to have no such reservations, although Mina was sure that it was not the presence of the conjuror but of Dr Hamid that largely occupied her thoughts.

  Mrs Mowbray was a large but active lady with a prominent bust, which she believed was her best feature, and a substantial amount of whalebone had been employed to ensure that no one could ignore it. Although the doctor had been widowed for only a few months she had convinced herself that all she had to do was wait out a suitable interval of time and he would one day glance in her direction. She had been heard to say that Dr Hamid was the nicest-looking and cleverest man in all Brighton, and no one had sought to contradict her. The fact that Dr Hamid seemed wholly unconscious of the passion he had aroused she doubtless put down to his still missing his late wife, which, in her estimation, only went to show his loving and devoted nature, and his excellent credentials as a husband.

  Nellie arrived wearing an extraordinary hat with a silver grey demi-veil that was sure to be all the rage the following day, and such a torrent of lace that it brought gasps of envy from the ladies and looks of terror from their husbands.

  As was usual for Mrs Peasgood’s soirees, the front portion of the parlour was arranged with rows of comfortable seating for her guests while the rear, which served as a stage for the performance, was occluded by heavy curtains. Mina’s interest was in the lighting, since it was the obvious and easiest way to tell if the entertainment was being presented as conjuring or a séance. Conjurors, as Nellie had attested, make much of the fact that they are hiding nothing from the audience. They are, of course, hiding everything of importance and allowing the audience to see only what they wish them to see; that is the art of the conjuror. But they did it in full light, which made their skill all the more remarkable. No one would go to see a conjuror who worked in the dark. Except of course that people did go to see conjurors who worked shrouded in darkness, only those conjurors called themselves spirit mediums and produced glowing spectres and whirling tambourines and brought baskets of fruit from nowhere and claimed that they would die if the lights were turned on. Sometimes someone did turn on the lights, but this had never resulted in the death of the medium, only his or her exposure as a fraud.

  The arrivals all mingled cheerfully, especially Mr Hope, who had appointed himself major-domo for the evening, which suited everyone as he was a very commanding and popular presence. A crowd soon gathered around him, the gentlemen wanting to know how dangerous it was to confront an angry elephant, while the ladies, affecting to be terrified by that question, enquired more timorously after the fashionable dress of an African princess. At last all took their seats except for Hope, who stood before the curtains beaming at the assembly. ‘My good friends,’ he began, ‘I am happy to see so many of you here for what I can promise will be a treat for the eyes. For some years the Mystic Stefan has been dazzling audiences on the continent of Europe with his displays, but now, for the very first time in England, he is here in Brighton to show you just some of what he can achieve. Should he meet with your approval it is his intention to take a room at the Pavilion where larger illusions can be presented. As you already know from the invitation, he has little facility with our language, and so will perform without speaking. Some of you will have prepared questions for him on slips of paper, to which he can provide an answer, either yes or no. The means by which he does this will become apparent in due course. When the time comes for that part of the performance he will indicate whose question will be answered and then you will either hold the paper to your forehead, or, if you dare, speak the question out loud.’ He paused to allow the listeners to absorb the information.

  ‘Mr Hope?’ ventured Mrs Peasgood. ‘I trust that the gentleman will not ask for the lights to be extinguished?’ She gave a brittle smile. ‘If he did, it would be very hard for some of us to see the entertainment.’

  Hope bowed in response. ‘The lights may remain as they are. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my very great pleasure to present to you the Mystic Stefan!’ He drew the curtains aside and returned to his seat.

  In the centre of the stage there stood a man. Given his nom de théâtre, Mina had half been expecting to see someone in elaborate attire, a long colourful robe perhaps, embroidered with mysterious symbols, and fashioned with deep sleeves, the better for concealment. Instead, the gentleman was clad in a plain black evening dress suit, with a snowy shirt and neat bow tie. It was hard to detect his age, since he wore his whiskers long, with a fine curling moustache and heavy brows, but these and his hair, which was also a little longer than strictly fashionable, were black and glossy, which suggested either that he was a relatively young man or used a great deal of dye. As he stepped forward, however, the ease and lightness of his gait suggested youth. He spread his arms wide, opening his hands so all could see that they were empty, and bowed to the audience. There was polite applause, which he acknowledged with a smile.

  The only furniture on the stage was two tables – to one side was a long table on which could be seen in neat array the objects of his art, including a top hat and a wand, and in the centre was a small bare round table with slender legs. Mystic Stefan took up the hat and the wand and showed the inside of the hat to the audience to assure them that it was empty, using the tip of the wand to explore its interior. He then placed the hat brim up on the round table and waved the wand over it. Carefully and with great deliberation, he pushed back the cuffs of his shirt to reveal a few inches of bare forearm, thus demonstrating that there was nothing concealed in his sleeves. Dipping one hand inside the hat, he began to produce from within a rainbow of ribbons, silk handkerchiefs and paper streamers, which, because of their lightness, ascended into the air as he threw them high, and floated down in a colourful cascade, the very volume of these productions suggesting that it was impossible for them all to have been contained in the hat. Just as it seemed that nothing more could be forthcoming, he again put his hand into the hat and this time, brought out a bunch of fresh flowers, which he lifted to his nose to appreciate the perfume. He then proffered them forward, and Mr Hope kindly took them from him and presented them to Mrs Peasgood. That lady had been mollified from her original concern by the nature of the display and took the gift with good grace.

  The conjurer, acknowledging a ripple of polite applause, next took a set of large metal rings from the sidetable. He lifted one away from the set and then another to demonstrate to the audience that they were separate, then tapped them smartly together. In an instant they had become magically linked as though the metal had somehow dissolved. He spun one ring around on its fellow to show that there were no gaps, then struck them together with the others, and showed that there were now three linked in the same way. Further taps and clashes continued, too fast for the eye to appreciate, so that more and more of the rings were woven together, forming patterns which he held up for inspection, until he opened them up into a single structure, seven in all, combined. He then closed them up, gave them a final tap and showed that they were free again.

  There followed numerous other delights. He cut a rope in half with scissors, showed the cut ends to the audience, tied the two pieces in a knot and then blew on it. The knot was gone, and the rope restored to a singl
e piece. He tore a paper streamer into tiny shreds and then, by blowing on the fragments, made it new again. With a wave of the wand, a vase full of ink became a vase of water, and then wine. He pulled fresh eggs from an empty cloth bag, which he then broke into the top hat, from which he brought out a freshly cooked omelette, a feat that precipitated a round of applause, which redoubled when he showed that the hat was clean inside.

  Mr Hope now rose and addressed the audience. ‘If a lady or gentleman would be kind enough to lend a ring for the next demonstration. I promise it will be returned quite unharmed.’ Mrs Peasgood looked doubtful, but Nellie very charmingly removed a glittering token of her husband’s adoration from her finger, and instead of handing it to Mr Hope, as that gentleman clearly anticipated, she approached the stage and put it directly into the open palm of Mystic Stefan, who inclined his head in thanks. When both Nellie and Mr Hope were seated again, the ring was placed in a casket, the lid snapped shut and a key turned. Mystic Stefan then produced an orange out of thin air and tossed it to Mr Hope, who caught it deftly and gave it to Enid to hold. There was now much waving of the wand over the casket, and a light tap, before it was opened and shown to be empty. Nellie obligingly gave an affecting performance lamenting the disappearance of her ring. All was not lost, however, as Mr Hope returned the orange to Mystic Stefan, and was prevailed upon to cut it open. The ring was duly discovered buried in the fruit, and after some polishing with a silk handkerchief, restored to its delighted owner.