than declined through his failures, and the very fact
of his failing was itself another charge for which the baron would
have to answer. Death, and death alone, would now be sufficient to
wipe out the stain, and Edmund had long cudgelled his wits to secure
the destruction of his foe.

"Aye, Edmund, Edmund," exclaimed Sir Ronald Bury, as he broke in upon
Wynne's privacy, "at thy whimsical labours again, I see."

"Nay, not whimsical, Ronald," was the gentle reply. "My elixir is
nearly right; only one ingredient more is wanted, and then!"

"And then, what?" laughed the knight.

"Why, then I shall have discovered what all the sages of the earth
have sought in vain."

"A toadstone, I suppose?" replied Sir Ronald, lightly.

"Ha, you may laugh, Ronald," said the astrologer, severely. "Fools
ever did mock the wise, like the rich despise the poor. You are but a
soldier, and I am a man of science--the great alchemyst! My name shall
live; yea, mark me, Ronald, it will be known and revered in time to
come, aye, even when this castle has crumbled into dust, and when the
name of Roger Bacon has been long forgotten."

"Well, Edmund," responded the knight, gaily, "let us hope so; only one
more substance, eh?"

"Only one," the enthusiast replied, while the look of triumph flashed
already from his eyes.

"And then we shall--shall what, Edmund, what shall we do?"

"Live for ages."

"For ever, in fact, I suppose?"

"My elixir will conquer disease, and man shall live until his feeble
frame has worn away," he responded grandly.

"Lucky man," soliloquised Sir Ronald, facetiously. "But the dames,
Edmund, you said naught of them. Cannot you discover aught for them?
Surely they may share the blessing also!"

"No more is wanted; my elixir will serve for both," majestically
responded Edmund, as he placed a cauldron over the fire. He was
too intensely in earnest himself to note that his companion was
sceptically making fun of him.

"And will soldiers live for ages, too?" continued Sir Ronald.

"Those who are killed my elixir is impotent to bring back again to
life. The dead are beyond all aid."

"And the wounded?" persisted the knight.

"I can but stave off disease, Ronald; but what a glorious achievement
have I accomplished then! Methinks I see the glory now, and when I am
in my grave, pilgrims shall come and worship at my shrine as they
have done these centuries at the altar of St. Thomas the Martyr at
Canterbury. What glo