“Wonderful!” cried everybody once more. “The spirits are indeed with us to-night.”
“They are indeed,” I replied, “and we’ll make the most of ’em.”
Then in lower tones: “Spirit, if it be thy will, let us have a manifestation in regard to that vase on the mantelshelf.”
Instantly, and without more ado, the vase jumped up of its own accord and came crashing to the floor.
At this something like consternation reigned. By the dim light of the single turned-down gas-jet I could see that the eyes of my neighbours on the right and left were fixed on me in awe, and I could feel their hands tremble as they sought mine on the table.
“The piano!” I cried in a stage whisper, pretending to get wildly excited, and jumping to my feet. “The piano! I’m going to ask the spirits to take it out at the window, and bring it in at the door.”
But this was too much for even my landlady. “Mr. Carlton,” she exclaimed, “please don’t joke. The spirits are all about us. Never before have I seen such manifestations.”
“All right!” I replied, “If you think they’d be offended at my asking them to move the piano, why I won’t ask them. But I’ll tell you what we will do. We’ll ask ’em to give us a tune on it.”
“No! No!” objected the landlady. “Impossible! Such a thing is unheard of. The spirits can’t do it.”
“Well, let’s try anyway,” I said. “Come along!” And suiting the action to the word I got up and went over to the piano, which I locked, and put the key in my pocket.