But, wonder of wonders! this Hercules, a moment since so strong and proud, now bows his head; his arms, riveted to the box, undergo a violent muscular contraction; his legs give way, and he falls on his knees with a yell of agony! An electric shock, produced by an inductive apparatus, had been passed, on a signal from me, from the further end of the stage into the handle of the box. Hence the contortions of the poor Arab! It would have been cruelty to prolong this scene. I gave a second signal, and the electric current was immediately intercepted. My athlete, disengaged from his terrible bondage, raised his hands over his head. “Allah! Allah!” he exclaimed, full of terror; then wrapping himself up quickly in the folds of his burnous, as if to hide his disgrace, he rushed through the ranks of the spectators and gained the front entrance. With the exception of my stage boxes and the privileged spectators who appeared to take great pleasure in this experiment, my audience had become grave and silent, and I heard the words “Shaitan!” “Djenoum!” passing in a murmur round the circle of credulous men, who, while gazing on me, seemed astonished that I possessed none of the physical qualities attributed to the angel of darkness. I allowed my public a few moments to recover from the emotion produced by my experiment and the flight of the herculean Arab. One of the means employed by the Marabouts to gain influence in the eyes of the Arabs is by causing a belief in their invulnerability. One of them, for instance, ordered a gun to be loaded and fired at him from a short distance, but in vain did the flint produce a shower of sparks; the Marabout pronounced some cabalistic words, and the gun did not explode. The mystery was simple enough; the gun did not go off because the Marabout had skillfully stopped up the vent. Colonel de Neveu explained to me the importance of discrediting such a miracle by opposing to it a sleight-of-hand trick far superior to it, and I had the very article. I informed the Arabs that I possessed a talisman rendering me invulnerable, and I defied the best marksman in Algeria to hit me. I had hardly uttered the words, when an Arab, who had attracted my notice by the attention he had paid to my tricks, jumped over four rows of seats, and disdaining the use of the “practicable,” crossed the orchestra, upsetting flutes, clarionets, and violins, escaladed the stage, while burning himself at the foot-lights, and then said, in excellent French, “I will kill you!” An immense burst of laughter greeted both the Arab’s picturesque ascent and his murderous intentions, while an interpreter who stood near me told me I had to deal with a Marabout. “You wish to kill me!” I replied, imitating his accent and the inflection of his voice. “Well, I reply, that though you are a sorcerer, I am still a greater one, and you will not kill me.” I held a cavalry pistol in my hand, which I presented to him.