"But we must not frighten you to death in trying to teach you," said Althotas, pushing back the cadaver and the machine; the contact broken, the carcass fell back into immovability.
"You see that we may arrive at the point I spoke of, my son, and prolong life since we can annul death?"
"Not so, for you have only obtained a semblance of life," objected Balsamo.
"In time, we shall make it real. The Roman poets—and they were esteemed prophets—assert that Cassidæus revived the dead."
"But one objection: supposing your elixir perfect and a dog given some, it would live on—until it fell into the hands of a dissector who would cut its throat."
"I thought you would take me there," chuckled the old wizard, clapping his hands.
"Your elixir will not prevent a chimney falling on a man, a bullet going clear through him, or a horse kicking his skull open?"
Althotas eyed the speaker like a fencer watching his antagonist make a lunge which lays him open to defeat.
"No, no, no, and you are a true logician. No, my dear Acharat, such accidents cannot be avoided; the wounds will still be made, but I can stop the vital spirit issuing by the hole. Look!"
Before the other could interfere he drove the lancet into his arm. The old man had so little blood that it was some time flowing to the cut; but when it came it was abundantly.