very perplexing," Miller admitted; "but anything can happen in
the dark."

"I admit it is very easy to deceive our senses, but the silk thread is
not to be fooled."

Three times the table was urged in the same direction, each paroxysm of
suffering, of moaning, of struggle, on the part of the psychic, being
followed a few seconds later by absolute silence. It was in these
moments of profound sepulchral hush that the heavy table lurched along
the floor. It was a strange and startling fact.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked of the forces. "As a test?"

"_Yes_," the raps replied.

"How do you account for it, Miller?" I asked, with challenge in my
voice. "My conviction is that we are confronting a case of
telekinesis--not as convincing as Flammarion's, but still inexplicable.
If that table has moved an inch, it is the same as if it had moved a
foot. You should feel rewarded."

Miller did not reply; and even as he pondered the megaphone, which had
been standing on the top of the table, began to rock on its base, and a
pencil which lay beside it was fumbled as if by a rat or a kitten. In
our state of strained expectancy this sound was very startling indeed.

"What about that, Miller?" I asked, in a tone of exultation. "Who's
doing that? Last time you suspected Howard, now here you must suspect
the psychic. The movement of that pencil is of enormous significance.
How can she possibly reach and handle that cone?"

"She can't, unless she has freed her hands," he admitted. "Let us touch
hands." I gave him my left hand, and sitting thus, with all hands
accounted for, we entered into communication with the "spirit" that was
busy in the centre of the table.

"Are you present, 'Wilbur'?"

_Tap, tap, tap._

"Are you moving the table?"

_Tap, tap, tap._

"To get it out of reach of the psychic?"

_Tap, tap, tap._

Suddenly, with a loud bang, something heavy fell upon the table.
Releasing the hands of my fellow-investigators, I felt about for this
object and found that a book had been brought and thrown upon the table.
A shower of others followed, till twenty-four were piled about the cone.
They came whizzing with power, yet with such precision that no head was
touched and the cone remained undisturbed. It was as if some roguish
poltergeist had suddenly developed in the room.

"Miller, I find this exciting!" said I, after silver fell upon the
table. "Suppose we ask 'Wilbur' to fetch some small object whose
position