The alchemist looked closely and recited as if reading:
“Thus saith Olimpiodorus of Thebes, Osthanes the Egyptian, Psellos of Byzantium, and Giabr of Arabia: heat the fires upon thy brazier and place thereon a vessel full of yellow sulphur; this thou shalt melt until it gives forth a spirit; when the spirit is departed pour slowly upon the sulphur that quicksilver which has its birth in the planet Mercury. In but the twinkling of an eye this will be reduced from its natural state unto a state that is of the earth, black, without life, dead. Then take this lifeless substance and put it in a closed vessel; heat it and it will suddenly take on life again and become a brilliant red.”
“Write it, write it,” exclaimed Tring. The alchemist wrote. “And is there more?”
“Much. It saith here that this is the secret of the Seven Golden Chapters, of the Emerald Table, and the Pimander. Natura naturam superat; deinde vero natura naturae congaudet; tandem natura naturam continet.”
“No more of that. That is vile philosophy,” shouted Tring. “Find and write the completion of the Philosopher’s Stone, by which we may convert brass into gold.”
The alchemist continued:
“Zosimus the Theban directs that this is the true method of turning brass into gold: To the above heated solution of sulphur and mercury add that pure niter which men find in the heart of India. Into this cast brass and it will in a moment change to gold.”
“Quick, to work. Light the braziers and bring out sulphur, quicksilver, and brass,” commanded Tring. “Have you any of this Indian niter?”
“I have—a small packet on the third shelf of the closet,” answered the alchemist. Tring rushed to get it and set all the materials ready for the experiment. Truly and sincerely did he believe that the alchemist had hit upon the solution of the much desired process of changing base metals into gold, and his own lack of knowledge in the realm of the science of alchemy was responsible for the ignorance with which he ordered the alchemist to compound one of the most dangerous chemicals known to man. The alchemist, on his part, was but acting under the hypnotic suggestion of Tring, and had no opportunity to interpose his normal-self sense between the student’s intention and its execution. Indeed the information he had during the trance came from his own fund of learning, although the suggestion of adding niter to the heated compound was but a fancy of a mind grown either tired or weak.
As the student hurried about arranging materials for the experiment Kreutz sang a Latin hymn which extols the practice of alchemy and the alchemist: