The Great Elixir had accomplished its purpose. The wonderful Essence of Vitality, prized for centuries and closely guarded, had lent its marvelous powers of energy, strength, and life to a gingerbread man! And all through the stupidity of a baker's wife who was color-blind and could not distinguish a golden flask from a silver one!
Monsieur Jules, who knew nothing of the Arab's flasks, or of the Great Elixir, glared wildly into the glass eyes of the gingerbread man. He was at first sure that his own eyes, and also his ears, had played him a trick.
"John Dough—John Dough!" he cried, "did you speak? Merciful heavens! Did you speak, John Dough?"
"I did," said the gingerbread man, struggling to rise from the slab, "and I declare that it is warm and close in this room!"
Monsieur Jules gave a scream of terror. Then he turned and fled.
A moment later he staggered into the shop, tossed his hands above his head, and fell in a heap upon the floor—being overcome by a fainting spell.
Madame, who had just come downstairs and opened the shop, gazed upon her husband's terrified actions with an amazement that prevented her from moving a limb or uttering a sound.