“Is that you, M. Houdin?”

“Yes, sir – yes.”

“Raise the curtain!” the same voice shouted.

“Wait, wait, it is imp–”

My breath would not allow me to finish my objection; I fell on a chair, unable to move.

“Come, M. Houdin,” the manager said, “DO go on the stage, the curtain is up, and the public are so impatient.”

The door at the back of the stage was open, but I could not pass through it; fatigue and emotion nailed me to the spot. Still, an idea occurred to me, which saved me from the popular wrath.

“Go on to the stage, my boy,” I said to my son, “and prepare all that is wanting for the second-sight trick.”

Robert-Houdin (1805 – 1871)