Page 17 of A Gathering Storm
“That’s a possibility, yes, but there were a number of other variables in play that night too, so it may have been a combination of factors that created the necessary conditions. For one thing, the storm was an unusually fierce one, with more electrical activity than one would ordinarily see, probably because it took place at sea. As well as lightning, I witnessed St. Elmo’s fire that night—are you familiar with that phenomenon?”
Hearn shook his head.
“Have you heard of spirit candles?”
This time Hearn nodded. “The sailors speak of them. Unholy flames that hover on top of masts.”
“Quite so. That is St. Elmo’s fire, a phenomenon of electrical activity. There was also ozone gas that night too. The air reeked of it—once you know the smell of ozone, it’s unmistakable, and often present during electrical storms. And then there was the fact that it was the moment of George’s death, and that there was an unusually strong connection between us. We were twins after all, though we looked quite different after my illness.”
“Your illness?”
“When I was a child I contracted diphtheria.”
A brief silence as Hearn absorbed that. Then, curiously, “How old were you?”
“Eleven. George was away with our father when it struck, so he escaped the outbreak. My sister died, but I survived, though with some damage to my vocal chords and throat, as you will have heard.” He offered a twisted smile. “It took me a long time to recover. Half a year just to be out of bed, longer still till I felt well again. During my recuperation, I fell behind George in my growing and never really caught up to him again.”
Hearn’s gaze returned to the photograph on the wall. “The likeness is unmistakable, though I certainly wouldn’t have taken you to be twins.”
“He was taller than me and broader in the shoulders,” Ward admitted. “But we were practically identical facially. You can’t really see it in the photograph because of George’s whiskers.” He smiled sadly. “He was extraordinarily proud of those whiskers.”
Hearn sipped his tea. The bright sunshine that flooded through the study window made his hair gleam black-blue.
After another pause, he said, “I still don’t understand why you need to hypnotise me.”
Ward took another deep breath. “The hypnotic state is the other factor I believe may be significant here. On the night my brother visited me, I am sure I was in a trance.”
Hearn looked puzzled at that. “Someone hypnotised you on board the ship?”
Ward shook his head. “No, I was alone that night—I believe I inadvertently hypnotised myself.”
Hearn’s brows rose in frank disbelief, and Ward smiled. “I realise how that sounds, but I can assure you, autohypnosis is perfectly possible. In fact, it was through hypnotising himself that Mr. Braid, the author of the seminal work on the subject, worked out how to induce a trance in others. I believe that is what happened to me on theArchimedes. I also believe that it was due in part to my trance state that George was able to reach me.”
“You hypnotised yourself,” Hearn said flatly.
“Yes, I believe so,” Ward insisted. “Mr. Braid talks of bringing about an ‘upwards and inwards squint’ in his subjects, a particular fixing of the gaze that produces a degree of eye strain and a consequent entry into the hypnotic state. That night, in the midst of the storm, I saw a glow above the brim of my hat—”
“A glow?”
This time, the blunt scepticism in Hearn’s tone irritated Ward. “Yes, a glow. I saw it. It was there, physicallythere. That glow was caused by the same phenomenon that produces spirit candles, a regular sight in electrical storms at sea. In any event, it was very beautiful and of course, quite unexpected. It transfixed me and, by maintaining a studied concentration on the sight, I believe I entered the self-induced hypnotic trance state that Mr. Braid describes.”
Hearn looked no more credulous than he had before. “So, you were in a trance but still able to walk and talk as normal?”
“Quite so. The hypnotic state is much misunderstood. It is not, as the mesmerists would have you believe, a case of a weaker person falling under the influence of a stronger one, then doing their bidding like a slavish automaton. It is rather the entering into of a state of acute concentration so that all other distractions are muted. I felt thoroughly awake and quite myself when I heard my brother on board that ship, but I was also entirely focused upon what was happening to me. One hypothesis is that it was because of this heightened concentration that my brother was able to reach me. Another is that the electricity in the atmosphere or the ozone gas coming off the sea, or both of them, created some sort of ideal medium through which his message could be conducted to me. A third is that all these elements combined somehow to produce this effect.” He smiled and shrugged. “There are others—but these are some of the theories I hope to test with the assistance of yourself and any other subjects I am able to recruit.”
Hearn’s bright gaze searched Ward’s face, and Ward wondered what he sought there.
At length, Hearn said, “This sounds like a great undertaking, Sir Edward, and despite what you have heard of my history, I must tell you that I am not a spiritual man. I like the good ground under my feet, and I only believe in things I can see and touch. I have no wish to wake the dead.”
Ward felt a sinking sense of disappointment at that. He looked down at the polished desk, readying himself for the rejection that must surely follow.
But all Hearn said was, “So, you must consider yourself warned. I may not prove to be at all what you are hoping for in a subject.”
Ward’s gaze snapped back up. Hearn’s expression was as forbidding as ever, and he was plainly not eager to start, but it seemed he had no intention to test Ward’s resolve.
“Let us agree at the outset, though,” Hearn went on, his voice firm, “what my whole commitment is to be. As I said, I do not want to be at your beck and call forever.”
“Of course not,” Ward said hurriedly. “I perfectly understand.”