might be
Margrave's boasted secret; but at least in that secret was hope. In
recognized science I saw only despair.

And at that thought all dread of this mysterious visitor vanished,--all
anxiety to question more of his attributes or his history. His life
itself became to me dear and precious. What if it should fail me in the
steps of the process, whatever that was, by which the life of my Lilian
might be saved!

The shades of evening were now closing in. I remembered that I had left
Margrave without even food for many hours. I stole round to the back of
the house, filled a basket with elements more generous than those of
the former day; extracted fresh drugs from my stores, and, thus laden,
hurried back to the hut. I found Margrave in the room below, seated on
his mysterious coffer, leaning his face on his hand. When I entered, he
looked up, and said,--

"You have neglected me. My strength is waning. Give me more of the
cordial, for we have work before us to-night, and I need support."

He took for granted my assent to his wild experiment; and he was right.

I administered the cordial. I placed food before him, and this time
he did not eat with repugnance. I poured out wine, and he drank it
sparingly, but with ready compliance, saying, "In perfect health, I
looked upon wine as poison; now it is like a foretaste of the glorious
elixir."

After he had thus recruited himself, he seemed to acquire an energy
that startlingly contrasted his languor the day before; the effort of
breathing was scarcely perceptible; the colour came back to his cheeks;
his bended frame rose elastic and erect.

"If I understood you rightly," said I, "the experiment you ask me to aid
can be accomplished in a single night?"

"In a single night,--this night."

"Command me. Why not begin at once? What apparatus or chemical agencies
do you need?"

"Ah!" said Margrave, "formerly, how I was misled! Formerly, how my
conjectures blundered! I thought, when I asked you to give a month to
the experiment I wish to make, that I should need the subtlest skill of
the chemist. I then believed, with Van Helmont, that the principle of
life is a gas, and that the secret was but in the mode by which the gas
might be rightly administered. But now all that I need is contained
in this coffer, save one very simple material,--fuel sufficient for a
steady fire for six hours. I see even that is at hand, piled up in your
outhouse. And now for the substance its