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O'Donnell, Elliott, 1872-1965

"The Sorcery Club"

We wanted to stop, but some
strange power seems to be forcing us to go on. The table has rapped
out your name and address, and says it has something important to
communicate with you, and that unless you come here at once, it won't
answer for the consequences."
"All right!" Hamar said. "I'll come. I'll be with you in less than
half an hour."
When Hamar arrived at Queen's Mansions, he found a terrified party of
ladies awaiting him in the entrance to the flat.
"Thank goodness, you've come!" they exclaimed, all together. "We've
been having an awful time. The table has driven us out of the
drawing-room--it is obsessed by a devil."
"Let me have a look at it," Hamar said, "and I'll soon tell you."
The leader of the party, Mrs. Anderson-Waite, very cautiously opened
the drawing-room door, and Hamar peered in. In the centre of the room
was a large, round, ebony table, that commenced to rock, in the most
sinister fashion, the moment Hamar looked at it.
"It evidently wants to speak with me," Hamar said; "you had better
leave me here with it for a few minutes."
"Do take care," Mrs. Anderson-Waite said, as she shut the door. "It
may want to murder you. If it does, ring this bell, and we will all
come to your assistance."
Hamar gave her an assuring smile, but he was by no means as much at
ease as he pretended to be. He stood staring at the table, too
fascinated to take his eyes off it, and too afraid to move.


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