trust to find myself in the same disposition in the article of
death."

Conversing in this manner we arrived at the castle. The roof seemed
in a red glow in the dark. Out of one in dark shadows. We heard the
roaring of the fire, like fiery rain under the dense smoke wherewith
the sky was veiled. We both believed the flames to be devouring the
building. My good tutor tore his hair and moaned:

"My Zosimus, my papyrus, my Greek MSS.! Help! Help! my Zosimus!"

Running up the great lane over puddles of water reflecting the glare
of the fire, we crossed the park buried in dark shadows. We heard
the roaring of the fire, which filled the sombre staircase. Two at a
time we ran up the steps, stopping now and again to listen whence
came that appalling noise.

It appeared to us to come from a corridor on the third floor where
we had never been. In that direction we fumbled our way, and seeing
through the slits of a door the red brightness, we knocked with all
our might on the panel. It opened at once.

M. d'Asterac, who opened the door, stood quietly before us. His long
black figure seemed to be enveloped in flaming air. He asked quietly
on what pressing business we were looking for him at so late an
hour. There was no conflagration but a terrible fire, burning in a
big furnace with reflectors, which as I have since learned are
called athanors. The whole of the rather large room was full of
glass bottles with long necks twined round glass tubes of a duck-
beak shape, retorts, resembling chubby cheeks out of which came