dream."

"But," resumed the professor, "be of good cheer, son of my
friend. It is not yet too late for the rescue. Possibly we may
even succeed in bringing back this miserable child within the
limits of ordinary nature, from which her father's madness has
estranged her. Behold this little silver vase! It was wrought by
the hands of the renowned Benvenuto Cellini, and is well worthy
to be a love gift to the fairest dame in Italy. But its contents
are invaluable. One little sip of this antidote would have
rendered the most virulent poisons of the Borgias innocuous.
Doubt not that it will be as efficacious against those of
Rappaccini. Bestow the vase, and the precious liquid within it,
on your Beatrice, and hopefully await the result."

Baglioni laid a small, exquisitely wrought silver vial on the
table and withdrew, leaving what he had said to produce its
effect upon the young man's mind.

"We will thwart Rappaccini yet," thought he, chuckling to
himself, as he descended the stairs; "but, let us confess the
truth of him, he is a wonderful man--a wonderful man indeed; a
vile empiric, however, in his practice, and therefore not to be
tolerated by those who respect the good old rules of the medical
profession."

Throughout Giovanni's whole acquaintance with Beatrice, he had
occasionally, as we have said, been haunted by dark surmises as
to her character; yet so thoroughly had she made herself felt by
him as a simple, natural, most affectionate, and guileless