I HAVE occasionally suffered a few woes at the hands of my assistants. I remember on one occasion I was performing the box trick before a very large audience in the Midlands, an audience composed principally of people who worked in factories, and who were exceedingly keen on discovering how the box trick was done. My assistant had got into the box, the box was placed on an ordinary chair, the curtain was pulled in front of it, and I turned to the audience and explained that I would endeavour to amuse them with a little experiment in sleight-of-hand while the man was getting invisibly out of his box and vanishing into space. Upon this particular occasion, when I returned to the box I thought it felt unusually heavy. However, it was too late then to tell the audience I was afraid that the man had not vanished. The cords were undone, the wrapper was taken off, the box was unlocked, and there was my assistant fast asleep inside. I discovered afterwards that the man had been dining not wisely but too well, and that that was why he had fallen asleep. He never fell asleep in the box again, because he never had the chance to get inside it.

The remembrance of that mishap with a box reminds me of another that I once had to endure. It was soon after Mr. Maskelyne's famous box trick case had been decided. With the permission of Mr. Maskelyne, I was presenting the box trick in the country. At one town I visited I was the guest of a very old friend of mine, who was much interested in magic of all kinds, and, just to please him and to amuse his friends, I gave a private performance at his house one night.

He had suggested that the box trick could not be done at a private house, and, to convince him that he was wrong, I brought the box and my assistant with me, and we did the trick in my friend's drawing-room. Afterwards everyone crowded round and bombarded me with questions, and I suppose it was because I had been talking so much about the box that when I went to bed I dreamt about the box trick. My dreams were of the most awful description.

Everyone in the dream had discovered how the box trick was done, and I was being laughed at by jeering crowds. At other times in the dream I was shut in the box by myself, and was powerless to get out, although I had provided myself with a hatchet and hand saw. Then the dream was changed, and I found to my horror that, although my assistant had got out of the box, someone else had managed to get into it, and then, as fast as one man escaped from the box, another man got inside it--in a most mysterious way.

At length my dreams ended abruptly, and I woke up to find a burglar standing over me with a revolver. I pinched myself hard, so as to make quite sure that the burglar was not part of the dream, and then I sat up. The burglar covered my movement with his revolver.

"Speak once," he whispered, "and you'll never speak again."

Not having any wish to make him carry out his threat, I did not speak. Then he said that if I attempted to escape by the door or window he would shoot point-blank at my head. I had the pleasure of seeing him take a little loose gold from one of my pockets, and then I had still greater pleasure in seeing him bark his shins on the famous box, which stood open at the foot of the bed.

After he had sworn softly to himself, an idea suddenly seemed to occur to him. He motioned to me to get into the box. While I was obeying--under cover of his revolver--he took the key from the lock.

"Head down," he whispered gruffly; "go on."

Then he pulled the lid of the box down, put the key in the lock, turned it, and took the key away.

A moment afterwards I found myself being lifted up, and before I had time to imagine what the burglar was going to do with me, I was deposited on the bed. People who have seen the box trick will not need to be told that the burglar had hardly closed the door behind him before I had escaped from the box. Then I found my own revolver and went downstairs after the burglar. He seemed uncommonly surprised to see me.

"Hands up!" I whispered.

Somewhat to my surprise, he put his hands up without even trying to get at his own revolver. Then I made him walk backwards into my bedroom.

"Get into that box," I whispered.

He quickly stepped into the box, and did not remonstrate when I locked him in. The next thing to do was to cover the box with the bedclothes, so that my burglar should not alarm the household. Then I dressed, slipped noiselessly downstairs to my host's room, and woke him up. He seemed quite delighted at the idea of the box being of some real use in assisting me to catch the burglar, and insisted on accompanying me in my search for a policeman.

We obtained the services of a sergeant, who was simply radiant at the idea of catching a burglar so neatly. But, to our great surprise, when we were all in my bedroom, we found that the bird had flown! The box was there, properly locked, but the burglar had vanished. The police-sergeant thought we were playing a trick on him.

"You asked me to come and arrest a burglar," he said. "Kindly produce your burglar."

"I wish to goodness I could," I replied. "I would not let a man like that escape for worlds."

"You're sure there was a burglar?" said the sergeant, looking at me very suspiciously.

I don't quite remember all I said to that police-sergeant, but I know that my host apologized for my unintelligible explanation, and suggested that we should search the house.

"No, " said the police-sergeant, "you said the burglar was in that box. Where is he?"

Then I had to eat humble pie and explain that the burglar had evidently discovered the secret of the great box trick; that was how he had managed to escape. I could see, even then, that the police-sergeant did not believe me, although I was in such a state of anxiety at the idea of the secret being discovered that I did not pay very much attention to him.

"Well," said my host, "though the burglar has escaped from the box he may be in the house now. Suppose we search."

"Not necessary," I said; "it is quite evident that he left the house, as he entered it, by the window. I locked the door when I left him here, and the door was locked when we returned. He must have got out of the house by the window."

"Quite right, Mr. Devant," said a voice behind us. "He did get out of the house by the window."

We looked round quickly; there was the burglar, standing unabashed in front of the police-sergeant

"Arrest him instantly!" I cried.

The burglar replied, "With pleasure."

At that moment the burglar threw off his disguise and presented himself before me.

He was my assistant!

The rest of the story is soon told. My assistant had arranged to play a little practical joke on me. He thought that he had "arranged" the box in such a way that I would not be able to find the secret. Then he had intended to go to my host and invite him to come up and see me imprisoned in the box. When my assistant saw that I had got out of the box, he made up his mind to scare me by getting out of the box himself. My action in forcing him to get into the box was exactly what he wanted.

I may add that he has often asked me, since then, to tell him how I managed to get out, but there are some secrets that one does not tell even to one's assistant; and the secret I made use of on that night is one of them.

Soon after this experience I was walking home after giving a performance in a country town when I was suddenly brought to a standstill in the middle of the path.

A man had leaped out of the hedge and was standing in front of me. It was at once evident that he did not mean to allow me to pass. I sized him up quickly, saw that he was taller and much more powerful than I was, and decided that discretion would be the better part of valour in this case. For a second or two, which seemed like hours, he did not speak; but then, seeing me cast my eyes towards the road, he read my thoughts and translated them instantly.

"It's no use your looking at the road; you can't get by me."

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Well," he said slowly, "there are a good many things I want, but what I want most just now, and what I'm going to have, is money. I have had nothing to eat all day and I've got nowhere to sleep, and I've had no drink. Think of that, you soft-hearted, fur-coated ruffian! Nothing to drink! Can you imagine what I've suffered by not having anything to drink?"

The man talked so strangely that I took courage and looked him in the face. The moon shone directly into his eyes, and the bright beams seemed reflected there. I had never seen a man with such eyes; they sparkled like diamonds, and they seemed to have at the back of them a weird phosphorescent light.

I asked the man how much money he wanted, and told him what was indeed the truth--that I was very poor and had very little money with me.

"Nonsense!" he screamed. "Nonsense! They all say that; but they pay before I've finished with them?" Then he leaned down and peered into my face. I felt almost hypnotized, but as he put his face near mine I had enough presence of mind to show no signs of being frightened. I do not mind admitting that I never felt more uncomfortable in my life. He remained with his face close to mine. His eyes were almost starting out of their sockets as he glared maliciously at me. Suddenly he started back and, raising his hands above his head, burst into a fit of laughter. It was something like the laughter of an hysterical woman, the laughter that makes you shudder. I waited for a moment to see what could be the cause of his merriment.

"Why," he shouted, "I'm in luck! You're the man who makes money!"

"Not very much," I pleaded feebly. "And not very often."

"Nonsense!" he shouted. "They all say that--all of them! They all pretend that they haven't any money; but they pay before I've finished with them! You--you must have heaps of money. You're the man who makes money!"

I told him as quietly and as firmly as I could that I felt sure he was mistaken, and that in any case I did not quite understand him.

"Why," he screamed, "do you lie like this? I saw you making money on Monday. You made heaps of it, and I wanted to get some, but they would not let me have it. Don't you remember how you made money at the big hall in Wiltenham?"

I stepped back quickly at the mention of that word, for I understood at last exactly what the man meant. I had performed on the Monday of that week at Wiltenharn Asylum, and one of my tricks was catching money invisibly in a hat. I realized in a moment that the man standing in front of me, and glaring down at my face, was an escaped lunatic. Remembering what I had often been told by doctors at asylums-that one must never make a patient excitedand realizing also that I was in some danger of being seriously injured, I began to soothe the man as well as I could.

"Oh," said I, "I remember you now quite well. I shall be most happy to oblige you; but don't you think that if I begin to make money here somebody else will see us perhaps, and then they will want some too, and there won't be so much for you?"

I was hoping that by this simple ruse I might be able to induce the man to walk with me along the road, and so to the next village. He seemed to be considering the matter for a moment, but then replied very excitedly:

"No! no! no! We shan't be caught here, if you do it very quickly. Make lots of money, fill your hat full, and then give it to me. Look at that bright shower of diamonds over that tree. Can't you get some of those too?"

The moon had gone behind a cloud while he had been speaking, and the stars shone out brilliantly. It was to the stars that he pointed when he asked me to get him some diamonds. I told him that I would do my best, and I began to take off my gloves. He was eager for me to begin at once, and kept on calling on me to lose no time, because someone might come along the road, and then it would be too late. If I had had any doubt as to what I ought to do, that doubt was dispelled when the moon shone out again on to his face. It was distorted with passion.

"Look here," he said, "begin at once--at once; do you hear? I'm going to sit down; I'm tired. I've been walking about all day and have had nothing to eat. Begin at once and make me lots of money, and then give it to me and I'll go; but if you don't make plenty, and if you don't give it to me, then," he said with a childish chuckle, "you shall go into that nice little round room all to yourself."

Never have I conjured under such strange conditions. The man sat on a stile and laughed with joy directly I began. I suppose most people have seen the trick performed. The conjurer holds up a silk hat with his left hand, catches money invisibly in the air with his right throws the money invisibly at the hat, and it is heard to fall inside. At any time the conjurer's hands are seen to be empty; but when he has finished, a good pile of coins is in the hat. Every time the man heard the chink of money he clapped his hands. Certainly I had never had a more appreciative audience.

I was careful not to do the trick too quickly, and there seemed to be no reason why I should hurry, because directly the madman saw me begin his manner changed--he became more quiet; and perhaps if anyone had come along then they would have said that a conjurer who could perform on a cold night in the open air was more likely to be insane than the man who was watching him. After the first few minutes I told him that my arms were getting a little tired, and that I should like to have a rest for a minute or two.

"Not for long, not for long!" he shouted. And very soon I had to begin again.

"Wait a minute," he said. "Let's see how much you've got." I turned the hat towards him and shook up the coins.

"All right," he said, "you'll do. Keep on long enough and I shall be able to get to New York after all."

I do not know how long I continued to do the invisible mint trick. It seemed to me to be the longest performance I had ever given. The moon was still shining brightly, and my audience and myself were visible two miles away. My arms were getting very tired, and I hardly knew how to go on. I was trying to think how I should tell my audience that I had not made quite so many half-crowns as he had heard fall into the hat.

At last I thought of a way out of the difficulty. I made up my mind that I would gather up the coins and throw them to him, and then, while he was picking them up, I would run as hard as I could down the road. I was just debating in my mind as to when the best time would be to do this, when to my joy I heard some footsteps, and presently in the distance I saw two men walking along the road. Both the men had long sticks, and they were prodding the bushes and hedges as they went along. I guessed at once that they were keepers--or rather attendants, as the keepers at an asylum like to be called. I shall never forget their startled look of surprise when they saw me standing on the side of the road and doing the money-catching trick at three o'clock in the morning.

They realized at once that they had found their man, and that they would have some little difficulty in getting near him without being seen. They motioned to me to continue my performance, and then they retraced their steps, walked through the hedge, and so approached my audience from the back. But it was an experience I shall never forget.