The great surgeon and his assistants were working desperately. Every conceivable means was used to revive the inanimate body, but all was to no avail. As attempt after attempt failed the faces of the men grew graver. A tense silence prevailed throughout the laboratory, broken only by the surgeon's sharp low instructions from time to time.
It was then, when the tide of hope was at the lowest ebb, that Ralph beckoned one of the assistants to his side. Though unable to speak above a whisper, so weak was he, he managed with difficulty to convey his meaning to the man, who sprang to the side of the surgeon and in a low voice gave him Ralph's message.
Ralph had sent for a Hypnobioscope, the head pieces of which they fastened to Alice's temples. They brought a number of rolls and from them Ralph chose one of the world's most beautiful love stories.
It was the last trench in his desperate combat with Nature. It was the supreme effort. It was the last throw of the dice in the game between Science and Death, with a girl as the stakes.
Ralph knew that if the brain was at all alive to impressions, the effect of the story would stimulate it to voluntary action.
As the reel unrolled, Ralph fixed his burning eyes on the closed ones as though he would drive by the very force of his will the impressions coming from the Hypnobioscope deep into her brain.
Then, while they watched, with bated breath, the slight body on the operating table quivered almost imperceptibly, as the water of a still pool is rippled by a passing zephyr. A moment later her breast rose gently and fell again, and from the white lips came the suggestion of a sigh.
When Ralph saw this, his strength returned to him, and he raised himself, listening with throbbing heart to the soft breathing. His eyes glowed with triumph. The battle was won. His face was transfigured. All the agony, the heart-breaking foreboding of the past weeks passed from him, and a great peace settled upon his soul.
The surgeon sprang to catch him as he dropped, unconscious.