"Can it be," with a side-glance at the newcomer, "that we have lost our--I may not call him our quintessence or alcahest--rather shall I say our baser ore, that at the virgin touch of our philosophical stone blushed into ruddy gold?
And burned ever brighter and hotter in her presence! Tissot gone, and with him all those fair experiments! Is it possible ?" The young man's grin showed that he savoured a jest.

But, "I know nothing," he muttered sheepishly.

"'Tis new to me." "Tissot gone!" the big man repeated in a tone humorously melancholy.

"No more shall we Upon his viler metal test our purest pure, And see him transmutations three endure! Tissot gone! And you, sir, come in his place.

What change is here! A stranger, I believe ?" "In Geneva, yes," Claude answered, wondering and a little abashed.