AT PUERTO MENDEZ. 
57 
extended as if in adoration. The people in 
the room drew in their breath sharply, and I 
too was startled. For the Indian woman was 
describing, word for word, the same figure that 
a psychic London friend of mine always saw 
when she picked up my crystal. I had seen the 
same gestures made by her, in imitating it, as 
those the old woman had just made, and it 
seemed, at the least, an extraordinary coinci¬ 
dence. I questioned her as to whether she too 
saw a bright light above the adoring figure, but 
she did not. Then she said that the crystal 
was becoming blurred and milky again, and she 
was afraid to look any more. By now it had 
vindicated its character as a magic stone, and 
the two girls shuddered away from it when I 
held it out to them. 
I felt it would be better to bring in a more 
ordinary atmosphere, so when they asked me to 
look in it myself, I hoped they had forgotten 
my earlier remark that I never saw any pictures 
in it. After a few moments’ gazing I declared 
I saw a big ship, which evidently meant one of 
the party was presently going for a long voyage. 
This was a lucky hit, for the smart store-keeper 
eagerly explained that he meant soon to go for a 
trip to Europe, and there was a murmur of 
admiration round the room : ‘ Yes, the Sefiora 
even sees the very ship in which Don Antonio is 
to sail. It is indeed wonderful.’ From the 
verandah outside came voices saying the train 
