After stillness had settled down with outspread wings of intensity, he resumed:
“Will any one, or, better, two of you, touch the plate as lightly as possible with your fingers?”
All hung back for a moment. Then Mr. Arnold came forward.
“I will,” said he, and laid his fingers on the plate.
“As lightly as possible, if you please. If the plate moves, follow it with your fingers, but be sure not to push it in any direction.”
“I understand,” said Mr. Arnold; and silence fell again.
The Bohemian, after a pause, spoke once more, but in a foreign tongue. The words sounded first like entreaty, then like command, and at last, almost like imprecation. The ladies shuddered.
“Any movement of the vehicle?” said he to Mr. Arnold.
“If by the vehicle you mean the plate, certainly not,” said Mr. Arnold solemnly. But the ladies were very glad of the pretext for attempting a laugh, in order to get rid of the oppression which they had felt for some time.
“Hush!” said Funkelstein, solemnly.—“Will no one else touch the plate, as well? It will seldom move with one. It does with me. But I fear I might be suspected of treachery, if I offered to join Mr. Arnold.”