So at the appointed time the culprit was bound and blindfolded in the presence of the surgeons, who then proceeded to lance his arm and allowed a tiny jet of warm water to trickle over the place and down to the wrist.
It is said that, though the man had not lost a drop of blood, he began, as soon as he had felt the lancet prick and the trickling of the warm water, to grow faint, and after a time sank and sank, till he actually died from imagination.
"And that's what we're doing," thought Vince, as he drew slowly a long, deep breath, and then another and another.
The first was very catchy and strange, the second caused him acute suffering, and the third was deep, strong, and life-inspiring.
"That's it," said Vince to himself--"it is imagination; for if the seals, which are things that have to come up to the surface to breathe, can live in here, why can't I ?" Vince again took a deep breath, and another, and another, and so great a feeling of vigour ran through him that he laughed aloud, and Mike started up.
"What is it ?" he said.
"Listen," cried Vince; and he loudly drew breath, and expressed it as loudly, then, "Do that," he cried.
"I--I can hardly get mine.

This place is stifling." "Try," said Vince.

"That's right.

Again! Better.

Now take a long pull.