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It was burning low, that candle."Look at the tongues of fire and empty your mind of everything but that. Peerinto the very heart of the flame."As Esson looked at the yellow tongue it seemed to lengthen and spin into a thread.The nib of the pen touched the page and Yeats saw Esson's hand twitch. Then thepen began to move across the page fast and evenly, writing as it went. Sometimesit seemed as if Esson's hand would not be able to keep up, so fast it moved. Whenit came to the end of a line, the pen yanked the nib back to the beginning of thenext line and the ordered frenzy continued. The words themselves were perfectlyformed and in no time he had finished one page and was on to the next.After two pages the hand abruptly stopped and Esson sat there, still staring intothe flame which his eyes had never left the entire time. Yeats stood up and snuffedthe candle and with the same fingers touched Esson lightly on the forehead.Esson looked at him."Did I fall asleep, sir? I'm very sorry."Yeats was frowning, looking at the pages."I can't make head nor tail of it Esson.""What's that?""You are a natural medium Esson and my Instructors have given you a message.It clearly is from Robert Gregory, Augusta's dead son. I can't make out what it'ssaying. It's a list of some sort. Look."There was light enough from the remaining candle for Esson to see that it wasa list with Gregory's name at the top: Gregory, 4 for 83. Then there were other names- McDonald, Armstrong, Macartney, Mailey ..."It's for me, sir. We have routed the English at Lords."WESTERLY, No.2, JUNE, 1989 49