in the
circle. I had adopted the theory that in the lighter trance she spoke
unconsciously and wrote automatically. In the second, and deeper,
trance she became the somnambulist possessed of diabolic cleverness,
when, with the higher senses in abeyance, she was able to deceive and to
elude all detection. In the third, or death-like, trance, I was ready to
admit, for the sake of argument, that she was able, as De Rochas and
Maxwell seem to have demonstrated, to exert an unknown form of force
beyond the periphery of the body--that is to say, to move objects at a
distance and to produce voices from the horn.

To prove that she actually left the body would do much to explain the
phenomena, and I was very eager to push toward this demonstration. I had
now been her chief inquisitor for nearly thirty sittings, and had
developed (apparently) the power to throw her into trance almost
instantly. A few moments of monotonous humming, intoned while my hand
rested upon hers, generally sufficed to bring the first stage of her
trance. As we had been sitting for half an hour, I now proceeded to
chant my potent charm, with intent to liberate the "spirits" to their
work.

In a few moments she responded to my suggestion. A nervous tremor, now
expected and now familiar, developed in her hands. This was followed by
a slight, convulsive, straining movement of her arms. Her fingers grew
hot, and seemed to quiver with electric energy. Ten minutes later all
movement ceased. Her temperature abruptly fell. Her breath grew
tranquil, and at last appeared to fail altogether. This was the first
stage of her trance. "Take your hand away, Fowler," I said. "We have
nothing to do now but wait. The psychic is now in the hands of
'Mitchell.'"

Fowler remarked, with some humor: "I can tell by your tone that you're
still unconvinced."

"I'm like the Scotchman--ready for convincement, but I'd like to see the
man who could do it."

After a few minutes' silence Mrs. Fowler asked: "What is the most
conclusive phenomenon you have ever witnessed, Mr. Garland?"

"That's a little difficult to answer," I replied, slowly, "but at the
moment I think the playing of a closed piano, which I once heard, is the
most inexplicable of all my experiments."

"What do you mean by 'the playing of a closed piano'?" queried Brierly.

"I'll tell you about it. It happened during the second sitting I ever
had with Mrs. Smiley. I was lecturing in her home town at the time, and