“Now that Messrs. Martin and Davenport’s great Illusions have been explained and their Hall in Kingsway, so long famous as the Home of Puzzledom, of necessity shorn of its glamour, one need not be surprised if those who delight in this kind of mystery, should turn elsewhere for their amusement.  The British Public, which is above all things enamoured of novelty, will, doubtless, now resort to the Modern Sorcery Company, whose House in Cockspur Street bids fair to become the future home of everything uncanny.  Their programme—­to the uninitiated—­presents possibilities—­and impossibilities.”

So said the Planet, and as the number of attendances at Martin and Davenports’ fell from 820 on the night of the challenge to 89 on the succeeding night, whilst the Modern Sorcery Company’s Hall was filled to overflowing, there was every prospect of its prediction being verified.  The solution of Martin and Davenports’ tricks had taken place (Hamar had so planned it) on the last night the trio possessed the property of divination, and, consequently, on the night that terminated the first stage of their compact.  The following night they would be in possession of new powers, such powers as would warrant them giving a gratis exhibition—­an exhibition of jugglery absolutely new and unprecedented.  That the exhibition was successful may be gathered from the following article in the Daily Cyclone—­

    “MARVELLOUS DISPLAY OF PSYCHIC PHENOMENA IN COCKSPUR STREET.

“The Modern Sorcery Company Ltd., in their new premises in Cockspur Street, gave the most remarkable display of Phenomena it has ever yet fallen to our lot to report.  Indeed, the performances were of such an extraordinary nature that the huge audience, en masse, was scared; not a few people fainted, whilst every now and again were heard screams of terror intermingled with long protracted ‘Ohs!’”

A brief resume of the entertainment ran as follows:—­The first part of the Modern Sorcery Company’s programme was carried out by Mr. Leon Hamar, solus, who, stepping to the front of the stage, announced that he was about to give a display of clairvoyance.  Without further prelude he pointed to various members of the audience, and described spiritual presences he saw standing behind them.  He did not say he could see a spirit, answering to the name of James or George—­or some such equally familiar name—­and then proceed to give a description of it, so elastic, that with very little stretching it would undoubtedly have fitted nine out of every ten people one meets with every day, but unlike any other clairvoyants we have known, he described the individual physical and moral traits of the people he professed to see.  For example:  To a lady sitting in the third row of the stalls, he said:  “There is the phantasm of an elderly gentleman standing behind you.  He has a vivid scar on his right cheek that looks as if it might have been caused by a sabre cut.  He has a grey military moustache, a very marked chin; wears his hair parted in the middle, and has light-blue eyes that are fixed ferociously on the gentleman seated on your left.  Do you recognize the person I am describing?”