an exclamation. A faint report. A curse close to him bitten in half by the quick effort to suppress it. Tzit! The little pin-point of light flew up with a hiss.
Lewisham, standing, saw a circle of blinking faces turned to the group of two this sizzling light revealed. Smithers was the chief figure of the group; he stood triumphant, one hand on the gas tap, the other gripping the Medium's wrist, and in the Medium's hand—the incriminatory tambourine.
"How's this, Lewisham," cried Smithers, with the shadows on his face jumping as the gas flared.
"Caught!" said Lewisham loudly, rising in his place and avoiding Ethel's eyes.
"What's this?" cried the Medium.
"Cheating," panted Smithers.
"Not so," cried the Medium. "When you turned up the light . . . put my hand up . . . caught tambourine . . . to save head."
"Mr. Smithers," cried Lagune. "Mr. Smithers, this is very wrong. This—shock—"
The tambourine fell noisily to the floor. The Medium's face changed, he groaned strangely and staggered back. Lagune cried out for a glass of water. Everyone looked at the man, expecting him to fall, save Lewisham. The thought of Ethel had flashed back into his mind. He turned to see how she took this exposure in which he was such
