crowning virtue till the flower was supplied, produced the drink of
immortality."

"Yes, and I had the flower, which I found in a grave," said Septimius, "and
distilled the drink which you have spilt."

"You had a flower, or what you called a flower," said the girl. "But,
Septimius, there was yet another drink, in which the same potent
ingredients were used; all but the last. In this, instead of the beautiful
flower, was mingled the semblance of a flower, but really a baneful growth
out of a grave. This I sowed there, and it converted the drink into a
poison, famous in old science,--a poison which the Borgias used, and Mary
de Medicis,--and which has brought to death many a famous person, when it
was desirable to his enemies. This is the drink I helped you to distil. It
brings on death with pleasant and delightful thrills of the nerves. O
Septimius, Septimius, it is worth while to die, to be so blest, so
exhilarated as I am now."

"Good God, Sibyl, is this possible?"

"Even so, Septimius. I was helped by that old physician, Doctor Portsoaken,
who, with some private purpose of his own, taught me what to do; for he
was skilled in all the mysteries of those old physicians, and knew that
their poisons at least were efficacious, whatever their drinks of
immortality might be. But the end has not turned out as I meant. A girl's
fancy is so shifting, Septimius. I thought I loved that youth in the grave
yonder; but it was you I loved,--and I am dying. Forgive me for my evil
purposes, for I am dying."

"Why hast thou spilt the drink?" said Septimius, bending his dark brows