o
cure; the physicians could prescribe only such drugs as arsenic and
strychnia, to postpone as long as possible the climax of that fatal
debility. The patient was already afflicted with an immense
exhaustion, incapacitated from any but the slightest of muscular
efforts, unable to carry on the simplest occupation. Yet despite his
almost continuous attacks of headache he could think--of the collapse
of his hopes, of the approaching end.

In the beginning David Verne had rebelled against this fate with all
the force of one who feels that he is in the world for an unparalleled
purpose--who refuses to believe that any physical affliction is meant
to thwart the unfoldment of his genius. All the splendid raptures
pressing toward expression, the conviction of unique capacity and great
prolificness, reinforced his determination to be well again. Brantome
declared that in those early days it had been like the combat of a hero
against malefic gods--a "sort of Greek tragedy."

"Well," said Brantome, in a tone of stifled fury, glaring at Lilla with
his eyes of an old conquered Viking, "have you seen these pigmies
brandishing their fists at thunderbolts?"

Disqualified long ago from walking, to-day David Verne could hardly
raise his hands to lay them limply upon the keyboard of a piano.

His mind had suffered as sad a deterioration as his body. Formerly
fine, as befitted the source of fine achievements, it was now deformed
by bitterness. The last of those bright qualities, which in other days
had endeared him to his friends, were dying now, or perhaps were
already dead, In fact, Brantome confessed, it was doubly painful to
receive him here; one had to see the wreck not only of a young
physique, but also of an invaluable spirit.

Lilla sat frozen. At last she uttered:

"Ah! this world of ours!"

And she had a vision of a universal monster evolving exquisite forms of
beauty only to destroy them fiendishly.

"Yes," Brantome assented. He, too, for all his experience with life,
looking crushed anew. Indeed, in his old countenance there was a look
of defeat as dismal as though the ruin of that young man's hopes had
involved one more precious aspiration of his own. After a pause he
exclaimed, "I haven't suggested that you, who have enough unhappy
recollections, meet the poor fellow----"

"What was the shock that caused it?"

The old Frenchman made a hopeless gesture, and returned:

"I don't say it was that. It's on