The Last Seance

by Agatha Christie

  ‘With the crystal?’

  ‘With the crystal. I shall get her to gaze into it. I think the result ought to be interesting.’

  ‘What do you expect to get hold of?’ I asked curiously.

  The words were idle ones but they had an unlooked-for result. Rose stiffened, flushed, and his manner when he spoke changed insensibly. It was more formal, more professional.

  ‘Light on certain mental disorders imperfectly understood. Sister Marie Angelique is a most interesting study.’

  So Rose’s interest was purely professional? I wondered.

  ‘Do you mind if I come along too?’ I asked.

  It may have been my fancy, but I thought he hesitated before he replied. I had a sudden intuition that he did not want me.

  ‘Certainly. I can see no objection.’

  He added: ‘I suppose you’re not going to be down here very long?’

  ‘Only till the day after tomorrow.’

  I fancied that the answer pleased him. His brow cleared and he began talking of some recent experiments carried out on guinea pigs.

  I met the doctor by appointment the following afternoon, and we went together to Sister Marie Angelique. Today, the doctor was all geniality. He was anxious, I thought, to efface the impression he had made the day before.

  ‘You must not take what I said too seriously,’ he observed, laughing. ‘I shouldn’t like you to believe me a dabbler in occult sciences. The worst of me is I have an infernal weakness for making out a case.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, and the more fantastic it is, the better I like it.’

  He laughed as a man laughs at an amusing weakness.

  When we arrived at the cottage, the district nurse had something she wanted to consult Rose about, so I was left with Sister Marie Angelique.

  I saw her scrutinizing me closely. Presently she spoke.

  ‘The good nurse here, she tells me that you are the brother of the kind lady at the big house where I was brought when I came from Belgium?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘She was very kind to me. She is good.’

  She was silent, as though following out some train of thought. Then she said:

  ‘M. le docteur, he too is a good man?’

  I was a little embarrassed.

  ‘Why, yes. I mean—I think so.’

  ‘Ah!’ She paused and then said: ‘Certainly he has been very kind to me.’

  ‘I’m sure he has.’

  She looked up at me sharply.

  ‘Monsieur—you—you who speak to me now—do you believe that I am mad?’

  ‘Why, my sister, such an idea never—’

  She shook her head slowly—interrupting my protest.

  ‘Am I mad? I do not know—the things I remember—the things I forget . . .’

  She sighed, and at that moment Rose entered the room.

  He greeted her cheerily and explained what he wanted her to do.

  ‘Certain people, you see, have a gift for seeing things in a crystal. I fancy you might have such a gift, my sister.’

  She looked distressed.

  ‘No, no, I cannot do that. To try to read the future—that is sinful.’

  Rose was taken aback. It was the nun’s point of view for which he had not allowed. He changed his ground cleverly.

  ‘One should not look into the future. You are quite right. But to look into the past—that is different.’

  ‘The past?’

  ‘Yes—there are many strange things in the past. Flashes come back to one—they are seen for a moment—then gone again. Do not seek to see anything in the crystal since that is not allowed you. Just take it in your hands—so. Look into it—look deep. Yes—deeper—deeper still. You remember, do you not? You remember. You hear me speaking to you. You can answer my questions. Can you not hear me?’

  Sister Marie Angelique had taken the crystal as bidden, handling it with a curious reverence. Then, as she gazed into it, her eyes became blank and unseeing, her head drooped. She seemed to sleep.

  Gently the doctor took the crystal from her and put it on the table. He raised the corner of her eyelid. Then he came and sat by me.

  ‘We must wait till she wakes. It won’t be long, I fancy.’

  He was right. At the end of five minutes, Sister Marie Angelique stirred. Her eyes opened dreamily.

  ‘Where am I?’

  ‘You are here—at home. You have had a little sleep. You have dreamt, have you not?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Yes, I have dreamt.’

  ‘You have dreamt of the Crystal?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Tell us about it.’

  ‘You will think me mad, M. le docteur. For see you, in my dream, the Crystal was a holy emblem. I even figured to myself a second Christ, a Teacher of the Crystal who died for his faith, his followers hunted down—persecuted . . . But the faith endured.

  ‘The faith endured?’

  ‘Yes—for fifteen thousand full moons—I mean, for fifteen thousand years.’

  ‘How long was a full moon?’

  ‘Thirteen ordinary moons. Yes, it was in the fifteen thousandth full moon—of course, I was a Priestess of the Fifth Sign in the House of the Crystal. It was in the first days of the coming of the Sixth Sign . . .’

  Her brows drew together, a look of fear passed over her face.

  ‘Too soon,’ she murmured. ‘Too soon. A mistake . . . Ah! yes, I remember! The Sixth Sign!’

  She half sprang to her feet, then dropped back, passing her hand over her face and murmuring:

  ‘But what am I saying? I am raving. These things never happened.’

  ‘Now don’t distress yourself.’

  But she was looking at him in anguished perplexity.

  ‘M. le docteur, I do not understand. Why should I have these dreams—these fancies? I was only sixteen when I entered the religious life. I have never travelled. Yet I dream of cities, of strange people, of strange customs. Why?’ She pressed both hands to her head.

  ‘Have you ever been hypnotized, my sister? Or been in a state of trance?’

  ‘I have never been hypnotized, M. le docteur. For the other, when at prayer in the chapel, my spirit has often been caught up from my body, and I have been as one dead for many hours. It was undoubtedly a blessed state, the Reverend Mother said—a state of grace. Ah! yes,’ she caught her breath. ‘I remember, we too called it a state of grace.’

  ‘I would like to try an experiment, my sister.’ Rose spoke in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘It may dispel those painful half-recollections. I will ask you to gaze once more in the crystal. I will then say a certain word to you. You will answer with another. We will continue in this way until you become tired. Concentrate your thoughts on the crystal, not upon the words.’

  As I once more unwrapped the crystal and gave it into Sister Marie Angelique’s hands, I noticed the reverent way her hands touched it. Reposing on the black velvet, it lay between her slim palms. Her wonderful deep eyes gazed into it. There was a short silence, and then the doctor said: ‘Hound.’

  Immediately Sister Marie Angelique answered ‘Death.’

  I do not propose to give a full account of the experiment. Many unimportant and meaningless words were purposely introduced by the doctor. Other words he repeated several times, sometimes getting the same answer to them, sometimes a different one.

  That evening in the doctor’s little cottage on the cliffs we discussed the result of the experiment.

  He cleared his throat, and drew his note-book closer to him.

  ‘These results are very interesting—very curious. In answer to the words “Sixth Sign”, we get variously Destruction, Purple, Hound, Power, then again Destruction, and finally Power. Later, as you may have noticed, I reversed the method, with the following results. In answer to Destruction, I get Hound; to Purple, Power; to Hound, Death, again, and to Power, Hound. That all holds together, but on a second repetition of Destruction, I get Sea, which app
ears utterly irrelevant. To the words “Fifth Sign”, I get Blue, Thoughts, Bird, Blue again, and finally the rather suggestive phrase Opening of mind to mind. From the fact that “Fourth Sign” elicits the word Yellow, and later Light, and that “First Sign” is answered by Blood, I deduce that each Sign had a particular colour, and possibly a particular symbol, that of the Fifth Sign being a bird, and that of the Sixth a hound. However, I surmise that the Fifth Sign represented what is familiarly known as telepathy—the opening of mind to mind. The Sixth Sign undoubtedly stands for the Power of Destruction.’

  ‘What is the meaning of Sea?’

  ‘That I confess I cannot explain. I introduced the word later and got the ordinary answer of Boat. To Seventh Sign I got first Life, the second time Love. To Eighth Sign, I got the answer None. I take it therefore that Seven was the sum and number of the signs.’

  ‘But the Seventh was not achieved,’ I said on a sudden inspiration. ‘Since through the Sixth came Destruction!’

  ‘Ah! You think so? But we are taking these—mad ramblings very seriously. They are really only interesting from a medical point of view.’

  ‘Surely they will attract the attention of psychic investigators?’

  The doctor’s eyes narrowed. ‘My dear sir, I have no intention of making them public.’

  ‘Then your interest?’

  ‘Is purely personal. I shall make notes on the case, of course.’

  ‘I see.’ But for the first time I felt, like the blind man, that I didn’t see at all. I rose to my feet.

  ‘Well, I’ll wish you good night, doctor. I’m off to town again tomorrow.’

  ‘Ah!’ I fancied there was satisfaction, relief perhaps, behind the exclamation.

  ‘I wish you good luck with your investigations,’ I continued lightly. ‘Don’t loose the Hound of Death on me next time we meet!’

  His hand was in mine as I spoke, and I felt the start it gave. He recovered himself quickly. His lips drew back from his long pointed teeth in a smile.

  ‘For a man who loved power, what a power that would be!’ he said. ‘To hold every human being’s life in the hollow of your hand!’

  And his smile broadened.

  That was the end of my direct connection with the affair.

  Later, the doctor’s note-book and diary came into my hands. I will reproduce the few scanty entries in it here, though you will understand that it did not really come into my possession until some time afterwards.

  Aug. 5th. Have discovered that by ‘the Chosen’, Sister M.A. means those who reproduced the race. Apparently they were held in the highest honour, and exalted above the Priesthood. Contrast this with early Christians.

  Aug. 7th. Persuaded Sister M.A. to let me hypnotise her. Succeeded in inducing hypnoptic sleep and trance, but no rapport established.

  Aug. 9th. Have there been civilizations in the past to which ours is as nothing? Strange if it should be so, and I the only man with the clue to it . . .

  Aug. 12th. Sister M.A. not at all amenable to suggestion when hypnotized. Yet state of trance easily induced. Cannot understand it.

  Aug. 13th. Sister M.A. mentioned today that in ‘state of grace’ the ‘gate must be closed, lest another should command the body’. Interesting—but baffling.

  Aug. 18th. So the First Sign is none other than . . . (words erased here) . . . then how many centuries will it take to reach the Sixth? But if there should be a short-cut to Power . . .

  Aug. 20th. Have arranged for M.A. to come here with Nurse. Have told her it is necessary to keep patient under morphia. Am I mad? Or shall I be the Superman, with the Power of Death in my hands?

  (Here the entries cease.)

  It was, I think, on August 29th that I received the letter. It was directed to me, care of my sister-in-law, in a sloping foreign handwriting. I opened it with some curiosity. It ran as follows:

  Cher Monsieur,—I have seen you but twice, but I have felt I could trust you. Whether my dreams are real or not, they have grown clearer of late . . . And, Monsieur, one thing at all events, the Hound of Death is no dream . . . In the days I told you of (whether they are real or not, I do not know) He Who was Guardian of the Crystal revealed the Sixth Sign to the people too soon . . . Evil entered into their hearts. They had the power to slay at will—and they slew without justice—in anger. They were drunk with the lust of Power. When we saw this, We who were yet pure, we knew that once again we should not complete the Circle and come to the Sign of Everlasting Life. He who would have been the next Guardian of the Crystal was bidden to act. That the old might die, and the new, after endless ages, might come again, he loosed the Hound of Death upon the sea (being careful not to close the circle), and the sea rose up in the shape of a Hound and swallowed the land utterly . . .

  Once before I remembered this— on the altar steps in Belgium . . .

  The Dr Rose, he is of the Brotherhood. He knows the First Sign, and the form of the Second, though its meaning is hidden to all save a chosen few. He would learn of me the Sixth. I have withstood him so far—but I grow weak. Monsieur, it is not well that a man should come to power before his time. Many centuries must go by ere the world is ready to have the power of death delivered into its hand . . . I beseech of you, Monsieur, you who love goodness and truth, to help me . . . before it is too late.

  Your sister in Christ,

  Marie Angelique

  I let the paper fall. The solid earth beneath me seemed a little less solid than usual. Then I began to rally. The poor woman’s belief, genuine enough, had almost affected me! One thing was clear. Dr Rose, in his zeal for a case, was grossly abusing his professional standing. I would run down and—

  Suddenly I noticed a letter from Kitty amongst my other correspondence. I tore it open.

  ‘Such an awful thing has happened,’ I read. ‘You remember Dr Rose’s little cottage on the cliff? It was swept away by a landslide last night, the doctor and that poor nun, Sister Marie Angelique, were killed. The debris on the beach is too awful—all piled up in a fantastic mass—from a distance it looks like a great hound . . .’

  The letter dropped from my hand.

  The other facts may be coincidence. A Mr Rose, whom I discovered to be a wealthy relative of the doctor’s, died suddenly that same night—it was said struck by lightning. As far as was known no thunderstorm had occurred in the neighbourhood, but one or two people declared they had heard one peal of thunder. He had an electric burn on him ‘of a curious shape’. His will left everything to his nephew, Dr Rose.

  Now, supposing that Dr Rose succeeded in obtaining the secret of the Sixth Sign from Sister Marie Angelique. I had always felt him to be an unscrupulous man—he would not shrink at taking his uncle’s life if he were sure it could not be brought home to him. But one sentence of Sister Marie Angelique’s letter rings in my brain . . . ‘being careful not to close the Circle . . .’ Dr Rose did not exercise that care—was perhaps unaware of the steps to take, or even of the need for them. So the Force he employed returned, completing its circuit . . .

  But of course it is all nonsense! Everything can be accounted for quite naturally. That the doctor believed in Sister Marie Angelique’s hallucinations merely proves that his mind, too, was slightly unbalanced.

  Yet sometimes I dream of a continent under the seas where men once lived and attained to a degree of civilization far ahead of ours . . .

  Or did Sister Marie Angelique remember backwards—as some say is possible—and is this City of the Circles in the future and not in the past?

  Nonsense—of course the whole thing was mere hallucination!

  Bibliography

  Agatha Christie’s short stories typically (but not always) appeared first in magazines and then in her short story books, which tended to be different collections in the UK and the US. This list attempts to catalogue the first publication of each, and gives alternative story titles when used.

  THE LAST SÉANCE

  First published in the US as ‘The Woman W
ho Stole a Ghost’ in the November 1926 issue of Ghost Stories, and in the UK as ‘The Stolen Ghost’ in issue 87 of The Sovereign Magazine in March 1927. Reprinted in The Hound of Death and Other Stories (UK, 1933) and Double Sin and Other Stories (US, 1961).

  IN A GLASS DARKLY

  First published in the UK in the December 1934 issue of Woman’s Journal. Reprinted in The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories (US, 1939) and Miss Marple’s Final Cases and Two Other Stories (UK, 1979).

  S.O.S.

  First published in the UK in issue 252 of The Grand Magazine in February 1926, and in the US in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine Vol. 10, No. 49, in December 1947. Reprinted in The Hound of Death and Other Stories (UK, 1933) and The Witness for the Prosecution and Other Stories (US, 1948).

  THE ADVENTURE OF THE EGYPTIAN TOMB

  First published in the UK in The Sketch Number 1600 on 26 September 1923, and in the US as ‘The Egyptian Adventure’ in Blue Book Magazine Vol. 39, No. 4, in August 1924. Reprinted in Poirot Investigates (UK, 1924; US 1925).

  THE FOURTH MAN

  First published in the UK in issue 250 of The Grand Magazine in December 1925, and in the US in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine Vol. 10, No. 47, in October 1947. Reprinted in The Hound of Death and Other Stories (UK, 1933) and The Witness for the Prosecution and Other Stories (US, 1948).

  THE IDOL HOUSE OF ASTARTE

  First published in the UK in Royal Magazine No. 351 in January 1928, and in the US as ‘The Solving Six and the Evil Hour’ in Detective Story Magazine, Vol. 101, No. 6, on 9 June 1928. Reprinted in The Thirteen Problems (UK, 1932) aka The Tuesday Club Murders (US, 1933).