It isn't frightening you, is it, Shiela ?" "No....

But I don't understand why it moves." "Neither does anybody.

But you see it, feel it.

Nor can anybody explain why an absurd question and reciting the alphabet sometimes results in a coherent message.

Shall I try it, Helen ?" His sister nodded indifferently.
There was a silence, then Malcourt, still standing, said quietly: "Is there a message ?" From the deep, woody centre of the table three loud knocks sounded--almost ripped out, and the table quivered in every fibre.
"Is there a message for anybody present ?" Three raps followed in a startling volley.
"Get the chairs," motioned Malcourt; and when all were seated clear of the table but touching lightly the surface with their finger-tips: "A B C D E F"-- began Malcourt, slowly reciting the alphabet; and, as the raps rang out, sig-nalling some letter, he began again in a monotonous voice: "A B C D E F G"-- pausing as soon as the raps arrested him at a certain letter, only to begin again.
"Get a pad and pencil," whispered Lady Tressilvain to Shiela.
So Shiela left the table, found a pad and pencil, and seated herself near a candle by the window; and as each letter was rapped out by the table, she put it down in order.
The recitation seemed endless; Malcourt's voice grew hoarse with the repetition; letter after letter was added to the apparently meaningless sequence on Shiela's pad.
"Is there any sense in it so far ?" asked Lady Tressilvain.
"I cannot find any," said Shiela, striving with her pencil point to divide the string of letters into intelligible words.
And still Malcourt's monotonous voice droned on, and still the raps sounded from the table.