“There is no one here,” he said at length.
“Are there any manuscripts there?” demanded Tring.
Silence again. Then—“Yes, on the wall hangs a parchment.”
“Take it down.”
“It burns my hands.”
“Pay no heed to that. Your reward will be greater than your pains.”
“It is in my hands.”
Tring glanced involuntarily at the hands of the man in the trance. Curiously enough they seemed to be turning red as if exposed to a great heat. “Now read what the parchment says.”
The alchemist replied slowly as if reading, and he spoke in the Latin tongue, “Here May One Find Things Which Be Neither Good Nor Evil But Which Are Sought of All Men.”
“Good! Now unroll the parchment.”