CHAPTER XVIII
LEGERDEMAIN
Mr. Leeds, a genuine Yankee, dressed completely in black, received his
visitors with great deference. He spoke Spanish well, from having been
for many years in South America, and offered no objection to their
request, saying that they might examine everything, both before and
after the exhibition, but begged that they remain quiet while it was
in progress. Ben-Zayb smiled in pleasant anticipation of the vexation
he had prepared for the American.
The room, hung entirely in black, was lighted by ancient lamps burning
alcohol. A rail wrapped in black velvet divided it into two almost
equal parts, one of which was filled with seats for the spectators and
the other occupied by a platform covered with a checkered carpet. In
the center of this platform was placed a table, over which was spread
a piece of black cloth adorned with skulls and cabalistic signs. The
_mise en scène_ was therefore lugubrious and had its effect upon
the merry visitors. The jokes died away, they spoke in whispers,
and however much some tried to appear indifferent, their lips framed
no smiles. All felt as if they had entered a house where there was a
corpse, an illusion accentuated by an odor of wax and incense. Don
Custodio and Padre Salvi consulted in whispers over the expediency
of prohibiting such shows.
Ben-Zayb, in order to cheer the dispirited group and embarrass
Mr. Leeds, said to him in a familiar tone: "Eh, Mister, since there
are none but ourselves here and we aren't Indians who can be fooled,
won't you let us see the trick? We know of course that it's purely
a question of optics, but as Padre Camorra won't be convinced--"
Here he started to jump over the rail, instead of going through the
proper opening, while Padre Camorra broke out into protests, fearing
that Ben-Zayb might be right.
"And why not, sir?" rejoined the American. "But don't break anything,
will you?"
The journalist was already on the platform. "You will allow me,
then?" he asked, and without waiting for the permission, fearing that
it might not be granted, raised the cloth to look for the mirrors
that he expected should be between the legs of the table. Ben-Zayb
uttered an exclamation and stepped back, again placed both hands under
the table and waved them about; he encountered only empty space. The
table had three thin iron legs, sunk into the floor.
The journalist looked all about as though seeking something.
YOU ARE READING
EL FILIBUSTERISMO
Historical Fictiona.k.a. THE REIGN OF GREED DR. JOSE P. RIZAL A Complete English Version of El Filibusterismo from the Spanish of José Rizal By Charles Derbyshire