The king gave some orders in a low voice, and I directly saw several persons run to the orange-tree, in order to watch it and prevent any fraud. I was delighted at this precaution, which must add to the effect of my experiment, for the trick was already arranged, and the precaution hence too late. I had now to send the handkerchiefs on their travels, so I placed them beneath a bell of opaque glass, and, taking my wand, I ordered my invisible travellers to proceed to the spot the king had chosen. I raised the bell; the little parcel was no longer there, and a white turtle-dove had taken its place. The king then walked quickly to the door, whence he looked in the direction of the orange-tree, to assure himself that the guards were at their post; when this was done, he began to smile and shrug his shoulders. “Ah! Monsieur Robert-Houdin,” he said, somewhat ironically, “I much fear for the virtue of your magic staff.” Then he added, as he returned to the end of the room, where several servants were standing, “Tell William to open immediately the last chest at the end of the avenue, and bring me carefully what he finds there--if he _does_ find anything.” William soon proceeded to the orange-tree, and though much astonished at the orders given him, he began to carry them out. He carefully removed one of the sides of the chest, thrust his hand in, and almost touched the roots of the tree before he found anything. All at once he uttered a cry of surprise, as he drew out a small iron coffer eaten by rust. This curious “find,” after having been cleaned from the mould, was brought in and placed on a small ottoman by the king’s side. “Well, Monsieur Robert-Houdin,” Louis Philippe said to me, with a movement of impatient curiosity, “here is a box; am I to conclude it contains the handkerchiefs?” “Yes, sire,” I replied, with assurance, “and they have been there, too, for a long period.” “How can that be? the handkerchiefs were lent you scarce a quarter of an hour ago.” “I cannot deny it, sire; but what would my magic powers avail me if I could not perform incomprehensible tricks? Your majesty will doubtlessly be still more surprised, when I prove to your satisfaction that this coffer, as well as its contents, was deposited in the chest of the orange-tree sixty years ago.” “I should like to believe your statement,” the king replied, with a smile; “but that is impossible, and I must, therefore, ask for proofs of your assertion.” “If your majesty will be kind enough to open this casket they will be supplied.” “Certainly; but I shall require a key for that.” “It only depends on yourself, sire, to have one. Deign to remove it from the neck of this turtle-dove, which has just brought it you.” Louis Philippe unfastened a ribbon that held a small rusty key, with which he hastened to unlock the coffer. The first thing that caught the king’s eye was a parchment, on which he read the following statement: