Do you not know," he continued, "that the Philosopher's Stone was and
is but a figure of speech, which stands as some say for the perfect
element in nature, or as others say for the vital principle--that
vivifying power which evades and ever must evade the search of men? Do
you not know that the sages whose speculations took that direction were
endangered by accusations of witchcraft; and that it was to evade these
and to give their researches such an aspect as would command the
confidence of the vulgar, that they gave out that they were seeking
either the Philosopher's Stone, which would make all men rich, or the
Elixir Vitae, which would confer immortality. Believe me, they were
themselves no slaves to these expressions; nor were the initiated among
their followers. But as time went on, tyros, tempted by sounds, and
caught by theories of transmutation, began to interpret them literally,
and, straying aside, spent their lives in the vain pursuit of wealth or
youth. Poor fools!"

Messer Blondel stared. Had Basterga, assailing him from a different
side, broached the precise story to which, in the case of Agrippa or
Albertus Magnus, the Syndic was prepared to give credence, he had
certainly received the overture with suspicion if not with contempt. He
had certainly been very far from staking good florins upon it. But when
the experimenter in the midst of the apparatus of science, and
surrounded by things which imposed on the vulgar, denied their value,
and laughed at the legends of wealth and strength obtained by their
means--this fact of itself went very far towards convincing him that
Basterga had made a discovery and was keeping it back.

The vital principle, the essential element, the final good, these were
fine phrases, though they had a pagan ring. But men, the Syndic argued,
did not spend money, and read much and live laborious days, merely to
coin phrases. Men did not surround themselves with costly apparatus only
to prove a theory that had no practical value. "He has discovered
something," Blondel concluded in his mind, "if it be not the
Philosopher's Stone or the Elixir of Life. I am sure he has discovered
something." And with eyes grown sharp and greedy, the magistrate raked
the room.

The scholar stood thoughtful where he had paused, and did not seem to
notice him.

"Then do you mean," Blondel resumed after a while, "that all your work
there"--he indicated by a nod the chemical half of the room--"has been