Modern Magic: A Practical Treatise on the Art of Conjuring

“The Arab wastes in vain over the unlucky chest an amount of force which would have lifted an enormous weight; till at last, exhausted, panting, and burning with shame, he ceases, looks dumfounded, and begins to appreciate the power of the magic art. He has half a mind to give up the attempt; but to give up would be to acknowledge himself conquered, and to admit his weakness; and after having been famed for his muscular strength, to sink to the level of a child. The bare idea makes him furious. Gathering new strength from the encouragement which his friends offer him by word and look, he casts towards them a glance which seems to say, ‘You shall see what the son of the desert can do.’ Once more he bends over the chest, his nervous hands grip the handle, and his legs, planted one on each side of the chest like two columns of bronze, serve as a fulcrum for the mighty effort which he is about to make. It seems almost impossible but that under such a strain the box must fly to pieces. Strange! this Hercules, a moment ago so strong and self-confident, now bends his head; his arms, riveted to the box, are drawn by a violent muscular contraction against his chest; his legs quiver, and he falls on his knees with a cry of agony. “An electric shock, produced by an induction coil, had just been communicated, at a signal from me, from behind the scenes to the handle of the chest. Thence the contortions of the unlucky Arab. To prolong his agony would have been inhuman. I gave a second signal, and the electric current was cut off. My athletic friend, released from his terrible bondage, raised his hands above his head. ‘Allah! Allah!’ he cried, shaking with fright, then wrapping himself hastily in the folds of his burnous, as though to hide his disgrace, he rushed through the spectators, and made his way to the door of the hall.”