hills, and, as the sun hovered and vanished into the west, a
faint mist, pure white, began to rise from the hills. Dr.
Raymond turned sharply to his friend.

"Safe? Of course it is. In itself the operation is a
perfectly simple one; any surgeon could do it."

"And there is no danger at any other stage?"

"None; absolutely no physical danger whatsoever, I give
you my word. You are always timid, Clarke, always; but you know
my history. I have devoted myself to transcendental medicine
for the last twenty years. I have heard myself called quack and
charlatan and impostor, but all the while I knew I was on the
right path. Five years ago I reached the goal, and since then
every day has been a preparation for what we shall do tonight."

"I should like to believe it is all true." Clarke knit
his brows, and looked doubtfully at Dr. Raymond. "Are you
perfectly sure, Raymond, that your theory is not a
phantasmagoria--a splendid vision, certainly, but a mere
vision after all?"

Dr. Raymond stopped in his walk and turned sharply.
He was a middle-aged man, gaunt and thin, of a pale yellow
complexion, but as he answered Clarke and faced him, there was a
flush on his cheek.

"Look about you, Clarke. You see the mountain, and
hill following after hill, as wave on wave, you see the woods