tice
charlatanry, or what any one of my fellow-practitioners must have
designated as such, was with me. Yet so profound had my belief become
in the extraordinary being whose existence was a danger to the world
that I reveled in my immunity from official censure. I was glad that
it had fallen to my lot to take at least one step--though blindly--into
the FUTURE of medical science.

So far as my skill bore me, Lord Southery was dead. Unhesitatingly, I
would have given a death certificate, save for two considerations. The
first, although his latest scheme ran contrary from the interests of
Dr. Fu-Manchu, his genius, diverted into other channels, would serve
the yellow group better than his death. The second, I had seen the boy
Aziz raised from a state as like death as this.

From the phial of amber-hued liquid which I had with me, I charged the
needle syringe. I made the injection, and waited.

"If he is really dead!" whispered Smith. "It seems incredible that he
can have survived for three days without food. Yet I have known a
fakir to go for a week."

Mr. Henderson groaned.

Watch in hand, I stood observing the gray face.

A second passed; another; a third. In the fourth the miracle began.
Over the seemingly cold clay crept the hue of pulsing life. It came in
waves--in waves which corresponded with the throbbing of the awakened
heart; which swept fuller and stronger; which filled and quickened the
chilled body.

As we rapidly freed the living man from the trappings of the dead one,
Southery, uttering a stifled scream, sat up, looked about him with
half-glazed eyes, and fell back. "My God!" cried Smith.

"It is all right," I said, and had time to note how my voice had
assumed a professional tone. "A little brandy from my flask is all
that is necessary now."

"You have two patients, Doctor," rapped my friend.

Mr. Henderson had fallen in a swoon to the floor of the vault.

"Quiet," whispered Smith; "HE is here."

He extinguished the light.

I supported Lord Southery. "What has happened?" he kept moaning.
"Where am I? Oh, God! what has happened?"

I strove to reassure him in a whisper, and placed my traveling coat
about him. The door at the top of the mausoleum steps we had reclosed
but not relocked. Now, as I upheld the man whom literally we had
rescued from the grave, I heard the door reopen. To aid Henderson I
could make no move. Smith was breathing hard beside me. I dared not
think