“That is the true scientific attitude,” laughed Arthur.
“He took every morning at sunrise a glass of white wine tinctured with this preparation; and after using it for fourteen days his nails began to fall out, without, however, causing him any pain. His courage failed him at this point, and he gave the same dose to an old female servant. She regained at least one of the characteristics of youth, much to her astonishment, for she did not know that she had been taking a medicine; and, becoming frightened, refused to continue. The experimenter then took some grain, soaked it in the tincture, and gave it to an aged hen. On the sixth day that bird began to lose its feathers, and kept on losing them till it was naked as a new-born babe; but before two weeks had passed other feathers grew, and these were more beautifully coloured than any that fortunate hen had possessed in her first youth. Her comb stood up, and she began again to lay eggs.”
Arthur laughed heartily.
“I confess I like that story much better than the others. The Primum Ens Melissae at least offers a less puerile benefit than most magical secrets.”
“Do you call the search for gold puerile?” asked Haddo, who had been sitting for a long time in complete silence.
“I venture to call it sordid.”
“You are very superior.”
“Because I think the aims of mystical persons invariably gross or trivial? To my plain mind it is inane to raise the dead in order to hear from their
