at watching the table which was now
snapping and cracking and heaving under her gaze. A slow fear of the
thing crept over her--of this senseless, lifeless mass of wood,
fashioned by human hands. The people around it, the room, the house were
becoming horrible to her; she loathed them and what they were doing.

A ripping crash brought her to her feet; everybody sprang up. Under
their hands the table was shuddering convulsively. Suddenly it split
open as though rent by a bolt, and fell like a live thing in agony, a
mass of twisted fibres protruding like viscera from its shattered core.

Stunned silence; and Malcourt turned to his sister and spoke in a low
voice, but she only shook her head, shivering, and stared at the wreck
of wood as though revolted.

"W-what happened?" faltered Portlaw, bewildered.

"I don't know," said Malcourt unsteadily.

"Don't know! Look at that table! Why, man, it's--it's _dying_!"

Tressilvain stood as though stupefied. Malcourt walked slowly over to
where Shiela stood.

She shrank involuntarily away from him as he bent to pick up the pad
which had fallen from her hands.

"There's nothing to be frightened about," he said, forcing a smile; and,
holding the pad under the light, scanned it attentively. His sister came
over to him, asking if the letters made any sense.

He shook his head.

They studied it together, Shiela's fascinated gaze riveted on them both.
And she saw Lady Tressilvain's big eyes widen as she laid her pencil on
a sequence; saw Malcourt's quick nod of surprised comprehension when she
checked off a word, then another, another, another; and suddenly her
face turned white to the lips, and she caught at her brother's arm,
terrified.

"Will you keep quiet?" he whispered fiercely, snatching the sheet from
the pad and crumpling it into his palm.

Sister and brother faced each other; in his eyes leaped a flame infernal
which seemed to hold her paralyzed for a moment; then, with a gesture,
she swept him aside, and covering her eyes with her hands, sank into a
chair.

"What a fool you are!" he said furiously, bending down beside her. "It's
in us both; you'll do it, too, when you are ready--if you have any
sporting blood in you!"

And, straightening up impatiently, his eyes fell on Shiela, and he
shrugged his shoulders and smiled resignedly.

"It's nothing. My sister's nerves are a bit upset.... After all, this
parlour magic is a stupid mistake, because there's always som