the end being near my left hand.  On examining it I found a longish end of one of the catgut strings loose, and I found that by sweeping this end over the strings I could make quite as good twangs as we heard.  I could have done this just as well with my mouth as with my hand—­and I could have pulled the guitar about by the end of the catgut in my mouth and so have disturbed the other things—­as they were disturbed.

Before the candle was lighted some discussion arose as to why the spirits would not do any better (started by Mr. Y and Mr. Z, I think), in which the medium joined.  It appeared that (in the opinion of the spirits as interpreted by the medium) we were not quite rightly placed.  When the discussion arose I made a bet with myself that the result would be that either I or G.D.  Would have to change places with somebody else.  And I won my wager (I have just paid it with the remarkably good cigar I am now smoking).  G.D.  Had to come round to my side, Mr. Z went to the end, and Mr. Y took G.D.’s place.  “Good, Medium,” said I to myself.  “Now we shall see something.”  We were in pitch darkness, and all I could do was to bring my sense of touch to bear with extreme tension upon the medium’s hand—­still well in my grip.

Before long Medium became a good deal convulsed at intervals, and soon a dragging sound was heard, and Mr. Y told us that the arm-chair (mark its position) had moved up against his leg, and was shoving against him.  By degrees the arm-chair became importunate, and by the manner of Mr. Y’s remarks it was clear that his attention was entirely given to its movements.

Then I felt the fingers of the medium’s left hand become tense—­in such a manner as to show that the muscles of the left arm were contracting sympathetically with those of the other arm, on which a considerable strain was evidently being put.  Mr. Y’s observations upon the eccentricities of the arm-chair became louder—­a noise was heard as of the arm-chair descending on the table and shoving the guitar before it (while at the same time, or just before, there was a crash of a falling thermometer), and the tension of the left arm ceased.  The chair had got on to the table.  Says the medium to Mr. Y, “Your hand was against mine all the time.”  “Well, no,” replied Mr. Y, “not quite.  For a moment as the chair was coming up I don’t think it was.”  But it was agreed that this momentary separation made no difference.  I said nothing, but, like the parrot, thought the more.  After this nothing further happened.  But conversation went on, and more than once the medium was careful to point out that the chair came upon the table while his hand was really in contact with Mr. Y’s.

G.D. will tell you if this is a fair statement of the facts.  I believe it is, for my attention was on the stretch for those mortal two hours and a half, and I did not allow myself to be distracted from the main points in any way.  My conclusion is that Mr. X is a cheat and an imposter, and I have no more doubt that he got Mr. Y to sit on his right hand, knowing from the turn of his conversation that it would be easy to distract his attention, and that he then moved the chair against Mr. Y with his leg, and finally coolly lifted it on to the table, than that I am writing these lines.