"Were you in your
reason, you would be aware that my master's name is the same as your
own--Darcy--Reginald Darcy. He assumes the name of Doctor Lamb to delude
the multitude. He told you as much yourself, sweet sir, if your poor
wits would enable you to recollect it." "Am I in a dream, good fellow, tell me that?" cried Auriol, lost in
amazement. "Alack, no, sir," replied the dwarf; "to my thinking, you are wide
awake. But you know, sir," he added, touching his forehead, "you have
been a little wrong here, and your memory and reason are not of the
clearest." "Where does my grandsire dwell?" asked Auriol. "Why here, sir," replied the dwarf; "and for the matter of locality, the
house is situated on the south end of London Bridge." "_On_ the bridge--did you say _on_ the bridge, friend?" cried Auriol. "Ay, _on_ the bridge--where else should it be? You would not have your
grandsire live under the river?" rejoined the dwarf; "though, for ought
I know, some of these vaults may go under it. They are damp enough." Auriol was lost in reflection, and did not observe a sign that passed
between the dwarf and Rougemont. "Will it disturb Doctor Lamb if his grandson goes up to him?" said the
latter, after a brief pause. "My master does not like to be interrupted in his operations, as you
know, sir," replied the dwarf, "and seldom suffers any one, except
myself, to enter his laboratory; but I will make so bold as to introduce
Master Auriol, if he desires it." "You will confer the greatest favour on me by doing so," cried Auriol,
rising. "Sit down--sit down!" said Rougemont authoritatively. "You cannot go up
till the doctor has been apprised. Remain here, while Flapdragon and I
ascertain his wishes." So saying, he quitted the chamber by a farther
outlet with the dwarf. During the short time that Auriol was left alone, he found it vain to
attempt to settle his thoughts, or to convince himself that he was not
labouring under some strange delusion. He was aroused at length by the dwarf, who returned alone. "Your grandsire will see you," said the mannikin. "One word before we go," cried Auriol, seizing his arm. "Saints! how you frighten me!" exclaimed the dwarf. "You must keep
composed, or I dare not take you to my master." "Pardon me," replied Auriol; "I meant not to alarm you. Where is the
person who brought me hither?" "What, your keeper?" said the dwarf. "Oh, he is within call. He will
come to you anon. Now follow me." And taking up the torch, he led the way out of the chamber. Mounting a
spiral staircase, apparently within a turret, they came to a door, which
being opened by Flapdragon, disclosed a scene that well-nigh stupefied
Auriol. It was the laboratory precisely as he had seen it above two centuries
ago. The floor was strewn with alchemical implements--the table was
covered with mystic parchments inscribed with cabalistic characters--the
furnace stood in the corner--crucibles and cucurbites decorated the
chimney-board--the sphere and brazen lamp hung from the ceiling--the
skeletons grinned from behind the chimney-corner--all was there as he
had seen it before! There also was Doctor Lamb, in his loose gown of
sable silk, with a square black cap upon his venerable head, and his
snowy beard streaming to his girdle. The old man's gaze was fixed upon a crucible placed upon the furnace,
and he was occupied in working the bellows. He moved his head as Auriol
entered the chamber, and the features became visible. It was a face
never to be forgotten. "Come in, grandson," said the old man kindly. "Come in, and close the
door after you. The draught affects the furnace--my Athanor, as we
adepts term it. So you are better, your keeper tells me--much better." "Are you indeed living?" cried Auriol, rushing wildly towards him, and
attempting to take his hand. "Off--off!" cried the old man, drawing back as if alarmed. "You disturb
my operations. Keep him calm, Flapdragon, or take him hence. He may do
me a mischief." "I have no such intention, sir," said Auriol; "indeed I have not. I only
wish to be assured that you are my aged relative." "To be sure he is, young sir," interposed the dwarf. "Why should you
doubt it?" "O sir," cried Auriol, throwing himself at the old man's feet, "pity me
if I am mad; but offer me some explanation, which may tend to restore me
to my senses. My reason seems gone, yet I appear capable of receiving
impressions from external objects. I see you, and appear to know you. I
see this chamber--these alchemical implements--that furnace--these
different objects--and I appear to recognise them. Am I deceived, or is
this real?" "You are not deceived, my son," replied the old man. "You have been in
this room before, and you have seen me before. It would be useless to
explain to you now how you have suffered from fever, and what visions
your delirium has produced. When you are perfectly restored, we will
talk the matter over." And, as he said this, he began to blow the fire anew, and watched with
great apparent interest the changing colours of the liquid in the
cucurbite placed on the furnace. Auriol looked at him earnestly, but could not catch another glance, so
intently was the old man occupied. At length he ventured to break the
silence. "I should feel perfectly convinced, if I might look forth from that
window," he said. "Convinced of what?" rejoined the old man somewhat sharply. "That I am what I seem," replied Auriol. "Look forth, then," said the old man. "But do not disturb me by idle
talk. There is the rosy colour in the projection for which I have been
so long waiting." Auriol then walked to the window and gazed through the tinted panes. It
was very dark, and objects could only be imperfectly distinguished. Still he fancied he could detect the gleam of the river beneath him, and
what seemed a long line of houses on the bridge. He also fancied he
discerned other buildings, with the high roofs, the gables, and the
other architectural peculiarities of the structures of Elizabeth's
time. He persuaded himself, also, that he could distinguish through the
gloom the venerable Gothic pile of Saint Paul's Cathedral on the other
side of the water, and, as if to satisfy him that he was right, a deep
solemn bell tolled forth the hour of two. After a while he returned from
the window, and said to his supposed grandsire, "I am satisfied. I have
lived centuries in a few nights."