Adam Warner was at work on his crucible when the servitor commissioned
to attend him opened the chamber door, and a man dressed in the black
gown of a student entered.

He approached the alchemist, and after surveying him for a moment in a
silence that seemed not without contempt, said, "What, Master Warner,
are you so wedded to your new studies that you have not a word to
bestow on an old friend?"

Adam turned, and after peevishly gazing at the intruder a few moments,
his face brightened up into recognition.

"En iterum!" he said. "Again, bold Robin Hilyard, and in a scholar's
garb! Ha! doubtless thou hast learned ere this that peaceful studies
do best insure man's weal below, and art come to labour with me in the
high craft of mind-work!"

"Adam," quoth Hilyard, "ere I answer, tell me this: Thou with thy
science wouldst change the world: art thou a jot nearer to thy end?"

"Well-a-day," said poor Adam, "you know little what I have undergone.
For danger to myself by rack and gibbet I say nought. Man's body is
fair prey to cruelty, and what a king spares to-day the worm shall
gnaw to-morrow. But mine invention--my Eureka--look!" and stepping
aside, he lifted a cloth, and exhibited the mangled remains of the
unhappy model.

"I am forbid to restore it," continued Adam, dolefully. "I must work
day and night to make gold, and the gold comes not; and my only change