“Now then, to pass the coin into this other envelope.” As you say this, you pick up the coin mat, depress it enough for all present to see the coin upon it, and make the motion of sliding it off into the left hand. This should be done while standing a little in front of your table. In turning to replace the mat, reverse it and lay it with the side to which the coin adheres downwards. If deftly executed, this reversal of the mat will be imperceptible, as it is covered by the turn to the table. Even if it were noticed it would have practically no significance for the spectators, who naturally take it for granted that the coin has passed from the mat into your hand. The moment you have laid down the mat, the now disengaged hand picks up the nest of envelopes, and you make believe to rub the coin (supposedly in left hand) into it. This done, you hold the envelope aloft in each hand alternately, allowing it to be seen that the hands are otherwise empty.

“So far, so good! The coin has passed from my hands into the innermost envelope. But I don’t expect you to take my word for it. Will you, sir” (any given spectator) “open the outermost envelope, first, however, satisfying yourself that it is still securely sealed?”

It is just possible, though not very likely, that the person to whom the envelope and penknife have been handed may notice, and remark audibly, that he cannot feel any coin in the envelope. If such a remark is made, you reply that the coin naturally had to be dematerialised before it could pass into the envelope, and it will take a few minutes for it to re-materialise, but it will become gradually more solid, and will then be distinctly perceptible.

The outer envelope having been opened you take back its contents, and under pretext of getting as many witnesses as possible to fair play, have the next envelope opened by a second person, seated at some little distance from the lender of the shilling. The last named gentleman is invited himself to open the last envelope, or rather, the trick envelope, which you in transit substitute for it. Having already opened a precisely similar envelope, and found it securely fastened, he is not likely to anticipate anything different about this one. If he uses the penknife and cuts it open along the edge of the flap in the usual way he will naturally hold it with the thumb upon the seal and all will be well. As a rule, he will be more concerned to identify the coin as the one he lent than to seek for any suspicious feature about the envelope. Even in the unlikely case of his tearing open the envelope, instead of cutting it, it is doubtful whether he would detect the use of the seccotine, which should by this time be practically dry; and by the rest of the spectators it would still be taken for granted that this envelope, like the rest, was sealed in the ordinary way.

It will be obvious to the expert reader that the central idea, viz., the transformation by the use of seccotine of an open envelope into one apparently sealed in the regular way, is one that admits of a wide variety of detail as to the mode of presentation. For instance: The procedure suggested for getting rid of the duplicate coin, and apparently rubbing it into the envelope, is but one of many alternatives. The coin might be “passed” by the agency of fire, i.e., wrapped in a piece of flash paper with open fold at bottom and flared off at the psychological moment over a candle flame, or it might be got rid of by vanishing it into the pocket of a black art mat, or by the use of a black art patch, as described at [page 20].

The critical part of the trick is the “switching” of the two envelopes at the final stage, but in view of their small size this is a matter of very little difficulty. The expert will probably do this after some fashion of his own. The less instructed reader may use the following plan, which he will find by no means difficult of execution, though it will need some little practice to work it neatly.

While the second envelope is being opened, get the trick envelope from the pochette into the right hand, clipping it against the second and third joints of the second and third fingers, with the “seal” side turned away from them. When the genuine envelope is handed to you receive it with the left hand, and immediately transfer it to the right, pushing it between the fingers and the palmed one, with the seal facing in the same direction. The moment it is masked by the fingers push the trick envelope outward with the thumb, bringing this into view in its place. Smartly executed the change is instantaneous and cannot possibly be detected. The apparent object of passing it from hand to hand is to have the left hand empty and so free to take back the penknife from the last holder. From this point all will be easy, as it is the trick envelope which is now alone in view, and all you have to guard against is any accidental exposure of the one now hidden in the hand.

This description may justly appear somewhat long-winded, but its length is occasioned by the number of small details demanding notice. In performance, the trick should not take, at most, more than ten minutes. The introductory patter may of course be shortened at pleasure.

[18] If the performer does not object to the slight additional trouble, he will find an easy method of obtaining envelopes exactly square and of any desired description of paper, indicated in the chapter entitled “A Few Wrinkles,” post.

[19] This rigmarole may equally well be used by way of introduction to any other trick of sufficient importance. King George’s puzzlement about the dumplings is said to be a matter of history, but, I do not guarantee it as a fact.