This is precisely what you do with the last-tied wrist behind the screen, except that it is much more easily accomplished in this case than with the leg of a chair, because you can relax the long piece, and so give yourself more space by bringing the hands a little nearer to each other. It is difficult to comprehend this from a written description, and a diagram would be of little use to illustrate it, but you will see it readily on following out the successive steps just mentioned.
Let us go through the trick for the sake of noting one or two little points which require some care. Tape is better than string or rope, and ribbon is best of all, because, from the silk in its composition, it is slippery, and will glide smoothly, without requiring to be tugged, or being in danger of getting ‘jammed.’ The first wrist is tied before you; the manner in which it is done does not concern you, though you could, if need be, ‘capsize’ an ordinary knot—reef or granny—and convert it into the same condition as that applied to the second wrist. This, however, will be quite unnecessary. Nevertheless, you had better observe the mode in which this first knot is tied, for this reason: it would be possible for some skilful person—a sailor, for instance—to put a ‘clove hitch,’ or some other nautical complication, around the second wrist, which could not be manipulated in the way described. You are not likely to meet with anybody who will treat you so, and of course, in speaking of knots, one means the ordinary arrangements, such as nine hundred and ninety-nine people out of a thousand will tie.
But if you should find somebody who is clever and ill-natured enough to try to baffle you, let him tie away to his heart’s content on the first wrist, then, ‘to show there is no deception or confederacy,’ move on to some one else for the second. The best way is always to go to a lady; probably she will only tie a simple bow at first, which you will pull open at once, making a great merit of scorning to take advantage of such a thing, and requesting, for your own satisfaction, to be secured in a manner which will leave no doubt in the minds of the audience, etc., etc. The second wrist is tied behind your back, and when both are thus encircled a straight piece, about one foot in length, will connect the two hands.
But how about the seals? You will perceive that the knots in both cases lie close against the flesh, and it is only possible to put on the merest dot of wax—and this on the loops themselves—without burning the skin. Thus they will carry the seal unbroken with them as they slip backwards and forwards. But since there is, even so, a chance of your getting scorched, it is better in every way to request that an end of about two inches long be left in each case—you can adjust it yourself with the first wrist, as a pattern for the second—explaining your reason, and have this sealed down to the long piece which intervenes. You can have the end of it sewn as well if you like. The more you are apparently hampered by precautions and impossibilities the more wonderful and impressive the feat becomes, and it must be evident to all that the knots cannot be untied when the ends are made fast without breaking the seals.
The handkerchief around the cross-bar of the chair, like the ankle-fetters and ropes around the body in the more elaborate version of the trick, are merely for the sake of effect, and are of no consequence to you at all; but be sure to draw just as much attention to these as the other, and lay as great stress on their being sealed.
Now I think you see how to proceed. Directly you are hidden by the newspaper catch hold of the knots last tied with the fingers of the opposite hand, and slide them gently outwards from the wrist towards the seal. This will enlarge the loop by a good inch or an inch and a half—more than enough to enable you to withdraw the hand. The arms are now free from one another, the ribbon with the enlarged loop at the end of it dangling from the first-tied wrist. This is pulled through the loop of the handkerchief, the coat quickly removed, and the whole process then simply reversed—the arms brought together behind the chair again, ribbon passed through loop of handkerchief, hand passed into the noose, and knots slipped back to the skin, tighter than ever. Putting on the coat is managed just in the same way. If you want to appear freed from the chair, do not pass the ribbon within the handkerchief in replacing your hand; or you may produce a most puzzling result, if you like, by twisting it around the cross-bar instead.
Do not be ‘flurried’ or over-eager. Remember, if you took half an hour about it the performance would be just as mysterious and incapable of explanation. You may, however, apparently shorten the time employed in its execution by asking some young lady to oblige you with a little appropriate music as soon as the screen is raised. ‘Something very solemn and soothing—a little slower, if you please; thank you, that will do nicely’—working away all the time. ‘Now then, who’s got a watch? You have, sir? Has it a second-hand? Now, kindly tell me when one minute has expired,’ and so on, according to the amount of delay you require. Always take care that there is no light behind you, or the screen will become transparent; and place your chair where you will not be reflected in any looking-glass.
But the bell-ringing and tambourine-beating, combined with this, will absolutely astonish your friends, for this is what fills the public with greater wonder than anything else, even when performed by professional conjurers amidst all the appliances of a regular stage. For this you will want some instrument which can lie folded up inside your waistcoat (not coat); it must therefore be not more than a foot long when not in use, but capable of being expanded to such a length as will enable you to reach the articles on the table with it while still sitting on your chair—the distance is not likely to be more than four feet at the outside. Indeed, it is not necessary to have it so much, for everybody will be able to see that you do not move from the chair. This may consist either of a sort of fishing-rod of four pieces, or a jointed rod made to fold up by hinges on the same principle as a pocket foot-rule, so that the joints bend in one direction, but are stiff in the other. If either of these is used, there must be a crook at the end to hook up the umbrella and tambourine, and the bell must have a loop of string attached to it, unless you choose to have a line running through an eye, as with a regular fishing-rod, and angle for the articles with a noose. Much better, to my thinking, is that little bit of apparatus—commonly sold with boxes of toy-soldiers-known as ‘lazy-tongs.’ It is formed, as I dare say you know, by a number of X-shaped slips of wood, joined together at the extremities in a sort of lattice (XXXX). The rivets are loosely fixed, so that by pressing the arms of the end X together the whole shoots out to its full length, and, by separating them again, the ‘tongs’ fold up. You will see the same action exemplified in those ornamental lattice-fences which are made to surround flower-pots in a drawing-room. By means of this, the things on the table can not only be hooked, but pinched up if required, and can be rattled about there before they come near your hands. If writing-paper is used instead of a slate, a pellet of bees’-wax or a drawing-pin must be fixed at the end of the tongs.
Having freed your wrist as before, get hold of the bell first and seize the handle between your teeth, where you retain it the whole time, ringing it by shakes and nods of your head. Next bring over the umbrella and open it, causing it to appear above the screen and dance as described; you may even shoot it out beyond the side of the screen on the lazy-tongs, far beyond your arms’ reach, ‘even if they were not tied behind your back.’ Hang the umbrella on the top rail of the clothes-horse, and divest yourself of your coat, flinging it over. Then fetch the tambourine, ringing the bell as hard as you can all the while. Beat time to the piano for a few moments, making the umbrella dance again in unison. The tongs must hang on your arm when not wanted, for do not forget that the audience have a full view of the floor, and that if you drop anything you cannot pick it up again. To drop the lazy-tongs would reveal the secret entirely, but the other articles do not matter so much. Now if you are going to do any writing, get the paper or slate, the pencil will be in your waistcoat-pocket, and you can use the tambourine as a desk. Finally, tuck the latter under your chin, and roll the edge of the bell to and fro upon it while you tie yourself up again; give a shout, as the prearranged signal for somebody to remove the screen, releasing the bell and tambourine at the same instant. Down they fall, and go rolling and jingling over the floor before the spectators, and there you are, bound and strapped, as close a prisoner as ever!
I said you could do all this without practice, and so you can, since there is no sleight-of-hand or dexterity involved. But you had better rehearse once or twice privately before giving an exhibition, to see that you have everything in working order; by so doing you will acquire confidence, and produce your effects one after the other in a much shorter space of time, while you may hit on many others. For instance, if your table is one of those small, light, ornamental affairs resting on a single stem, you might cause it to rock violently by means of your tongs, and to ‘walk’ from one edge of the screen to the other, the audience being able to watch the motion of its feet. If you like you may even have your elbows secured to the back of the chair, and will still be sufficiently at liberty to do all but take your coat off. The great thing is to make all the effects fit in with one another compactly.