Now, Marion," I added,
"let me ask forgiveness for having even for a moment wounded so
noble a heart. You are truly as great a martyr as any of those
whose sufferings the Church perpetuates in altar-pieces."
"I knew you would do me justice when you knew all," she sobbed,
pressing my hand; "but come. I am on fire. Let us hasten to my
father, and break this terror to him."
When we reached the old alchemist's room, we found him busily
engaged over a crucible which was placed on a small furnace, and in
which some indescribable mixture was boiling. He looked up as we
entered.
"No fear of me, doctor," he said, with a ghastly smile, "no fear; I
must not allow a little physical pain to interrupt my great work,
you know. By the way, you are just in time. In a few moments the
marriage of the Red King and White Queen will be accomplished, as
George Ripley calls the great act, in his book entitled 'The Twelve
Gates.' Yes, doctor, in less than ten minutes you will see me make
pure, red, shining gold!" And the poor old man smiled
triumphantly, and stirred his foolish mixture with a long rod,
which he held with difficulty in his bandaged hands.
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