Arthur & George

argument for obtaining the vote thereby demonstrated their unfitness to receive it.
    Still, the point is not whether Emily Davison was a silly, hysterical woman, or whether her action resulted in Maud getting the vote of which George fully approves. No, the point is that Sir Arthur was such a well-known opponent of Women’s Suffrage that the notion of such a spirit attending his memorial service is absurd. Unless the spirits of the departed are as illogical as they are unruly. Perhaps Emily Davison thought of disrupting this gathering just as she once disrupted the Derby. But in that case, her message ought to be for Sir Arthur, or his widow, rather than for some sympathetic friend.
    Stop, George says to himself. Stop thinking rationally about such matters. Or rather, stop granting these people the benefit of the doubt. You were given an unpleasant shock by a clever false alarm, but that is no ground for losing your reason as well as your nerve. He also thinks: yet if
I
was so scared, if
I
panicked, if
I
believed I might be going to die, then consider the potential effect on weaker minds and lesser intelligences. George wonders if the Witchcraft Act – with which he is admittedly unfamiliar – should not remain on the Statute Book after all.
    Mrs Roberts has been giving messages for half an hour or so. George spots people in the arena getting to their feet. But now they are not competing for a lost relative, or rising en masse to greet the spirit forms of loved ones. They are walking out. Perhaps the appearance of Emily Wilding Davison has been the last straw for them too. Perhaps they came as admirers of Sir Arthur’s life and work, but are refusing to associate themselves further with this public conjuring trick. There are thirty, forty, fifty people on their feet, heading determinedly for the exits.
    ‘I can’t go on with all these people walking out,’ Mrs Roberts announces. She sounds offended, but also rather unnerved. She takes a few steps backwards. Someone, somewhere, gives a signal, whereupon a sudden skirling blast comes from the vast pipe organ behind the stage. Is it intended to cover the noise of the departing sceptics, or to indicate that the meeting is being brought to an end? George looks to the woman on his right for guidance. She is frowning, offended at the vulgar way in which the medium has been interrupted. As for Mrs Roberts herself, she has her head cast down and her arms wrapped round herself, shutting out all this interference with the fragile line of communication she has established to the spirit world.
    And then, the last thing George expects comes to pass. The organ suddenly cuts off in mid-anthem, Mrs Roberts throws her arms open, lifts her head, walks confidently forward to the microphone, and in a ringing, impassioned voice, cries,
    ‘He is here!’ And then again, ‘He is here!’
    Those on their way out stop; some turn back to their seats. But in any case, they are now forgotten. Everyone gazes intently at the stage, at Mrs Roberts, at the empty chair with the placard across it. The blast on the organ might have been a call to attention, a prelude to this very moment. The entire hall is silent, watching, waiting.
    ‘I saw him first,’ she says, ‘during the two-minute silence.’
    ‘He was here, first standing behind me, though separate from all the other spirits.’
    ‘Then I saw him walk across the platform to his empty chair.’
    ‘I saw him distinctly. He was wearing evening dress.’
    ‘He looked as he has always looked in recent years.’
    ‘There is no doubt about it. He was quite prepared for his passing.’
    As she pauses between each brief, dramatic statement, George studies Sir Arthur’s family on the platform. All of them except one are looking across at Mrs Roberts, trans-fixed by her announcement. Only Lady Conan Doyle has not turned. George cannot see her expression from this distance, but her hands are crossed on her lap, her shoulders are square, her carriage erect; head proudly high, she is gazing above the audience and out into the far distance.
    ‘He is our great champion, here and on the farther side.’
    ‘He is quite capable of demonstrating already. His passing was peaceful, and he was quite prepared for it. There was no pain, and no confusion to his spirit. He is already able to begin his work for us over there.’
    ‘When I first saw him, during the two minutes’ silence, it was as in a flash.
    ‘It was when I was giving my messages