Despite himself, Colonel Castello was interested. He readily admitted that he had his son’s diary and that there was a pressed flower between its pages. But he could not say off-hand whether the pages which enclosed it referred to the boy’s stay in Greece. (This proved to be the case when the Colonel checked it on his return home.) Of the building of the car he was, of course, well aware, but he had no knowledge of the existence of the red notebook and subsequent searching for it during the…

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The voice stopped as abruptly as it had begun and in the silence that followed, Red Cloud’s voice was heard quoting the words: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” The fourth member of the quartet was Flight-Lieutenant Bill Castello, D.F.C. On earth he had been a keen racing motorist and his war service covered raids on Germany, occupied France, Libya, Albania, Iraq and Greece. In all he had made over fifty operational sorties and the citation for his D.F.C.…

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At this point Red Cloud intervened to enlist the help of the sitters, from which those present guessed that the next speaker would be making his first attempt at direct voice. There was a pause and then came the words: “Dick Stevens here. I want to speak to my wife.” It was Flight-Lieutenant Stevens, D.S.O., D.F.C. and bar, better known as “Cat’s Eyes” and the subject of a notable painting in the National Gallery. The picture, entitled “Portrait of a Night Fighter,” is by Eric Kennington. For some time prior…

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At this juncture good-humored protests of impatience came from the trumpet as others clamored for possession. It was David White who triumphed. He had ended his earthly life at the age of twenty-two when the submarine Olympus was lost off Malta. He spoke first to his mother, giving her messages of love for members of his family. “Dad is with me,” he assured her. The father had passed on a few months after the son. “Oh, it’s nice to talk!” David exclaimed with boyish enthusiasm. “Can you all hear me?”…

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After war had been declared Red Cloud said: “There would have been no war if each of you had accepted the responsibility that lay on your individual shoulders. War came because man could not raise his thoughts from the abyss of fear to an acknowledgment of the Godhead that is within him. I said there would be no war because there should have been no war, and to have prophesied otherwise would have been to cast down man’s mind to the lowest ebb from which there could have been no…

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN,WAR In October 1938, Red Cloud made one of his rare predictions and it was wrong. He said there would be no war. I have been many times asked how Red Cloud could have been thus in error, and have never had difficulty in giving what seems to me a satisfactory reply. Indeed, the answer is to be found in Red Cloud’s own teaching. Always he has taught that there is no such thing as destiny, that nothing in this life is preordained. It therefore follows that any prophecy…

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Only three or four times have I encountered the psychic phenomenon known as “independent voice.” This is a spirit voice which is heard not through the trumpet or through the mouth of the medium. It emanates seemingly from mid-air, sometimes at a considerable distance from where the medium is sitting. Curiously enough this rare phenomenon occurred on two separate occasions with the same sitter. He was a man named Sumpter who had come for a private sitting for clairvoyance. We sat together in broad daylight. I was transmitting spirit messages…

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“It is a photograph of your grandfather. You brought it as a present for Estelle.”For a few seconds Terence looked dumbfounded, and he said: “I don’t have to ask how you know. Red Cloud of course.”“Yes, Red Cloud.” “But what I don’t understand is how he knew. I was setting off to come here and I only thought of it at the last minute. It just occurred to me Estelle might like it.”He was quite right. I was delighted to have it. As I have already pointed out, Shaw Desmond…

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“This, of course, could be the only explanation. Somebody must have placed the shawl on my head. None of the sitters present could possibly have done so. Apart from the fact that no responsible member would break a circle in the midst of a séance, it would have been impossible for anyone to have done so and to be undetected. All hands had been linked and had remained so throughout, as was testified by every member present. My husband Charles, who was a wonderful healer, with a fine record of…

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“How long ago is it since he passed over?” Barbanell asked.“Your time is difficult for me,” came Red Cloud’s reply, “but this I can tell you. It was at the time of the showing of his portrait.” This was a reference which enabled us to place the time of Fawcett’s death almost to within a few days. In the summer of the previous year John Myers had been experimenting as usual with his spirit photography and among the “extras” had been one of Fawcett. This meant that Fawcett had passed…

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In saying that I believed Colonel Fawcett was dead, however, I was wrong. Some weeks later Red Cloud was delivering a trance address, and at the end he spoke to Reeves about Fawcett. He told him that Fawcett was alive. He said that Fawcett’s psychic powers were now so highly developed that he could indulge in astral projection and travel without permanently taking leave of the body. This, in fact, had occurred on the occasion of the earlier psychometry reading and accounted for my believing him dead. Red Cloud’s words…

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Fawcett was a remarkable man. A fine soldier, an experienced surveyor and intrepid explorer, he was also a mystic of a high order. His last expedition began in 1925 when, with his younger son and one other companion, he penetrated the Brazilian hinterland. It was a journey from which he never returned – in the physical sense. Several explorers claimed to have met him, or found traces of him, but none of their claims stood up to searching investigation. With the passage of years there could be only one logical…

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To this brief spirit return there was an unexpected sequel. Some days later, Reeves, walking in Hyde Park saw a horse and rider approaching him. When they reached him Reeves noticed that the rider was a man he had known slightly in days gone by, one who had no small reputation as an Arctic explorer. The rider halted his horse and said surprisingly: “Ah, Reeves, I was keeping an eye open for you. I understood you have been in communication with Gino Watkins.”“Yes, that is so. But how did you…

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Later he came again to my séance room and spoke this time in the direct voice. Dick was upset and his voice came with great difficulty. He was worried because of a claim that he had spoken through a medium at a public meeting. This, he said, was not so. He then asked that a message be given to his daughter, urging her to go ahead with the plans for his memoirs, and giving the name of somebody who was opposed to their publication. He sent affectionate greetings to George…

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