A Conjurers Confessions | Page 7

Houdin," the manager said, "DO go on the stage, the curtain
is up, and the public are so impatient."
The door at the back of the stage was open, but I could not pass through
it; fatigue and emotion nailed me to the spot. Still, an idea occurred to
me, which saved me from the popular wrath.
"Go on to the stage, my boy," I said to my son, "and prepare all that is
wanting for the second-sight trick."
The public allowed themselves to be disarmed by this youth, whose
face inspired a sympathizing interest; and my son, after gravely bowing
to the audience, quietly made his slight preparations, that is to say, he
carried an ottoman to the front of the stage, and placed on a

neighboring table a slate, some chalk, a pack of cards, and a bandage.
This slight delay enabled me to recover my breath and calm my nerves,
and I advanced in my turn with an attempt to assume the stereotyped
smile, in which I signally failed, as I was so agitated. The audience at
first remained silent, then their faces gradually unwrinkled, and soon,
one or two claps having been ventured, they were carried away and
peace was made. I was well rewarded, however, for this terrible ordeal,
as my "second-sight" never gained a more brilliant triumph.
An incident greatly enlivened the termination of my performance.
A spectator, who had evidently come on purpose to embarrass us, had
tried in vain for some minutes to baffle my son's clairvoyance, when,
turning to me, he said, laying marked stress on his words:
"As your son is a soothsayer, of course he can guess the number of my
stall?"
The importunate spectator doubtless hoped to force us into a confession
of our impotence, for he covered his number, and the adjacent seats
being occupied, it was apparently impossible to read the numbers. But I
was on my guard against all surprises, and my reply was ready. Still, in
order to profit as much as possible by the situation, I feigned to draw
back.
"You know, sir," I said, feigning an embarrassed air, "that my son is
neither sorcerer nor diviner; he reads through my eyes, and hence I
have given this experiment the name of second sight. As I cannot see
the number of your stall, and the seats close to you are occupied, my
son cannot tell it you."
"Ah! I was certain of it," my persecutor said, in triumph, and turning to
his neighbors: "I told you I would pin him."
"Oh, sir! you are not generous in your victory," I said, in my turn, in a
tone of mockery. "Take care; if you pique my son's vanity too sharply,
he may solve your problem, though it is so difficult."

"I defy him," said the spectator, leaning firmly against the back of his
seat, to hide the number better--"yes, yes--I defy him!"
"You believe it to be difficult, then?"
"I will grant more: it is impossible."
"Well, then, sir, that is a stronger reason for us to try it. You will not be
angry if we triumph in our turn?" I added, with a petulant smile.
"Come, sir; we understand evasions of that sort. I repeat it--I challenge
you both."
The public found great amusement in this debate, and patiently awaited
its issue.
"Emile," I said to my son, "prove to this gentleman that nothing can
escape your second sight."
"It is number sixty-nine," the boy answered, immediately.
Noisy and hearty applause rose from every part of the theater, in which
our opponent joined, for, confessing his defeat, he exclaimed, as he
clapped his hands, "It is astounding-- magnificent!"
The way I succeeded in finding out the number of the stall was this: I
knew beforehand that in all theaters where the stalls are divided down
the center by a passage, the uneven numbers are on the right, and the
even on the left. As at the Vaudeville each row was composed of ten
stalls, it followed that on the right hand the several rows must begin
with one, twenty-one, forty-one, and so on, increasing by twenty each.
Guided by this, I had no difficulty in discovering that my opponent was
seated in number sixty-nine, representing the fifth stall in the fourth
row. I had prolonged the conversation for the double purpose of giving
more brilliancy to my experiment, and gaining time to make my
researches. Thus I applied my process of two simultaneous thoughts, to
which I have already alluded.

As I am now explaining matters, I may as well tell my readers some of
the artifices that added material brilliancy to the second sight. I have
already said this experiment was the result of a material communication
between myself and my son which no one