n.

"The only thing we know about it, is that it appears to be in every way
the opposite of life," was the scientist's answer. "Life separates us
for a time from the state of what we call inanimate matter. When life
ceases, we return to that state."

"Why do you say 'what we call inanimate matter'?" inquired Paul.

"Because it has been very well said that names are labels, not
definitions. As a definition, inanimate matter means generally the
earth, the water, the air; but the name would be a very poor
definition,--as poor as the word 'man' used to define the human animal."

"You do not think that inanimate matter is really lifeless?" I asked.

"Unless it is so hot that it melts," laughed the professor. "Even then
it may not be true,--indeed, it may be quite false. We call the moon
dead, because we have reason to believe that she has cooled to the
centre. We call Jupiter and Saturn live planets, though we believe them
still too hot to support life."

"All that does not explain death," objected Madame Patoff.

"If I could explain death, I could explain life," answered Cutter. "And
if I could explain life, I should have made a great step towards
producing it artificially."

"If one could only produce artificial death!" exclaimed Madame Patoff.

"It would be very amusing," answered Cutter, with a smile, folding his
huge white hands upon his knee. "We could try it on ourselves, and then
we should know what to expect. I have often thought about it, I assure
you. I once had the curiosity to put myself into a trance by the Munich
method of shining disks,--they use it in the hospitals instead of ether,
you know,--and I remained in the state half an hour."

"And then, what happened when you woke up?"

"I had a bad headache and my eyes hurt me," replied the professor dryly.
"I dare say that if a dead man came to life he would feel much the same
thing."

"I dare say," assented Madame Patoff; but there was a vague look in her
eyes, which showed that her thoughts were somewhere else. We were close
upon the Asian shore, and I put the helm down to go about. The ladies
changed their places, and there was a little confusion, in which Cutter
found himself close to me.

"Keep an eye on her," he said quickly, in a low voice. "She is very
queer."

I thought so, too, and I watched Madame Patoff to see whether she would
return to the subject which seemed to attract her. Cutter kept up the
conversation, however, and did not ag