“It’s Tibby that has put him there,� said Mrs. Wylie. “She has mesmerized the creature. Ugh! I hope there is no danger of his wakening.�
“Not until I waken him,� said Tibby.
“Then suppose you wait until Gabriel sounds his trumpet,� Donald suggested.
“Mr. Bartram, I am bad enough, but you are positively wicked! To think of punishing poor Mrs. Cramer by having such a clod as this left around to look at.�
“Miss Waring, if the man is in a hypnotic sleep, any suggestion you may make to him, he will act upon. Why not use him as he has Esther McCleary? Make an exhibition of him.�
“What, make him dance? I might try. Wouldn’t it be fun? We should have a larger audience, though. I wonder if I can. Oh, what a joke it will be!�
“Certainly you can. He can be made to dance, talk, make a speech—even tell the truth, perhaps. Try it!�
“He said when he came in he had invited some people here to a seance to-night,� said Mrs. Wylie. “It is nearly time to expect them, is it not?�
“That’s so. Jump on your pony and go after Esther, Mr. Bartram. How I wish Mr. Cramer were here. It will be a joke for them to find him asleep.� And Tibby’s eyes glowed wickedly, with yellow fire in them.
Donald, nothing loth, started upon his errand.