I was never a
coward, but I cannot but fear those who may at any moment cause this
form, these limbs, my physical state and life, to vanish like a
candle-flame blown out."
My sympathies were now strongly aroused in behalf of the subject of
these most extraordinary conditions. "That which you fear must not be
allowed," I said. "No man has the right to take away the life of
another, no matter what plan or method he may use. I will see the
spiritualists, and make it plain to them that what they threaten they
cannot be allowed to do."
The man arose. "Sir," he said, "I feel that I have truly found a
friend. Whatever may happen to me, I shall never forget your kindness to
a very stranger." He held out his hand, and I stood up by him and took
it. It was as much a flesh and blood hand as my own.
"What is your name?" I asked. "You have not yet told me that."
"I am Amos Kilbright, of Bixbury," he answered.
"You have not revisited your native place?" I said.
"No," he replied, "I much desire to do so, but I have no money for a
journey, even on foot, and I doubt me much if those men would suffer me
to go to Bixbury."
"And have you spoken to your grandson, old Mr. Scott?" I said. "It is
but right that you should make yourself known to him."
"So have I thought," he answered, "and I have felt an earnest drawing
toward my daughter's child.
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