so remarkable a theatre. Faull invited his friends to step forward
and examine the apartment as minutely as they might desire. Prior
and Lang were the only ones to accept. The former wandered about
among the pasteboard scenery, whistling to himself and occasionally
tapping a part of it with his knuckles. Lang, who was in his
element, ignored the rest of his party and commenced a patient,
systematic search, on his own account, for secret apparatus. Faull
and Mrs. Trent stood in a corner of the temple, talking together in
low tones; while Mrs. Jameson, pretending to hold Backhouse in
conversation, watched them as only a deeply interested woman knows
how to watch.

Lang, to his own disgust, having failed to find anything of a
suspicious nature, the medium now requested that his own clothing
should be searched.

"All these precautions are quite needless and beside the matter in
hand, as you will immediately see for yourselves. My reputation
demands, however, that other people who are not present would not be
able to say afterward that trickery has been resorted to."

To Lang again fell the ungrateful task of investigating pockets and
sleeves. Within a few minutes he expressed himself satisfied that
nothing mechanical was in Backhouse's possession. The guests
reseated themselves. Faull ordered two more chairs to be brought for
Mrs. Trent's friends, who, however, had not yet arrived. He then
pressed an electric bell, and took his own seat.

The signal was for the hidden orchestra to begin playing. A murmur
of surprise passed through the audience as, without previous warning,