Persuaded this must be the draught of immortality, I raised
it to my lips; but apprehension lest it might be poison stayed my hand. Reassured, however, by the thought of the young man's miraculous
recovery, I quaffed the potion. It was as if I had swallowed fire, and
at first I thought all was over with me. I shrieked out; but there was
no one to heed my cries, unless it were my dead master, and two or
three skeletons with which the walls were garnished. And these, in
truth, did seem to hear me; for the dead corpse opened its glassy orbs,
and eyed me reproachfully; the skeletons shook their fleshless arms and
gibbered; and the various strange objects, with which the chamber was
filled, seemed to deride and menace me. The terror occasioned by these
fantasies, combined with the potency of the draught, took away my
senses. When I recovered, I found all tranquil. Doctor Lamb was lying
stark and stiff at my feet, with an expression of reproach on his fixed
countenance; and the skeletons were hanging quietly in their places. Convinced that I was proof against death, I went forth. _But a curse
went with me!_ From that day to this I have lived, but it has been in
such poverty and distress, that I had better far have died. Besides, I
am constantly haunted by visions of my old master. He seems to hold
converse with me--to lead me into strange places." "Exactly the case with the t'other," whispered the Tinker to the
Sandman. "Have you ever, in the coorse o' your long life, met the young
man as drank the 'lixir?" he inquired of the dwarf. "Never." "Do you happen to rekilect his name?" "No; it has quite escaped my memory," answered Old Parr. "Should you rekilect it, if you heerd it?" asked the Tinker. "Perhaps I might," returned the dwarf; "but I can't say." "Wos it Auriol Darcy?" demanded the other. "That _was_ the name," cried Old Parr, starting up in extreme surprise. "I heard Doctor Lamb call him so. But how, in the name of wonder, do you
come to know it?" "Ve've got summat, at last," said the Tinker, with a self-applauding
glance at his friends. "How do you come to know it, I say?" repeated the dwarf, in extreme
agitation. "Never mind," rejoined the Tinker, with a cunning look; "you see I does
know some cur'ous matters as veil as you, my old file. Yo'll be good
evidence, in case ve vishes to prove the fact agin him." "Prove what?--and against whom?" cried the dwarf. "One more questin, and I've done," pursued the Tinker. "Should you know
this young man agin, in case you chanced to come across him?" "No doubt of it," replied Old Parr; "his figure often flits before me in
dreams." "Shall ve let him into it?" said the Tinker, consulting his companions
in a low tone. "Ay--ay," replied the Sandman. "Better vait a bit," remarked Ginger, shaking his head dubiously. "There's no hurry." "No; ve must decide at vonce," said the Tinker. "Jist examine them
papers," he added, handing the pocket-book to Old Parr, "and favour us
vith your opinion on 'em." The dwarf was about to unclasp the book committed to his charge, when a
hand was suddenly thrust through the banisters of the upper part of the
staircase, which, as has been already stated, was divided from the
lower by the door. A piece of heavy black drapery next descended like a
cloud, concealing all behind it except the hand, with which the dwarf
was suddenly seized by the nape of the neck, lifted up in the air, and,
notwithstanding his shrieks and struggles, carried clean off. Great confusion attended his disappearance. The dogs set up a prodigious
barking, and flew to the rescue--one of the largest of them passing over
the body of the drowsy waiter, who had sought his customary couch upon
the coals, and rousing him from his slumbers; while the Tinker, uttering
a fierce imprecation, upset his chair in his haste to catch hold of the
dwarf's legs; but the latter was already out of reach, and the next
moment had vanished entirely. "My eyes! here's a pretty go!" cried Ginger, who, with his back to the
fire, had witnessed the occurrence in open-mouthed astonishment. "Vy,
curse it! if the wenerable ain't a-taken the pocket-book with him! It's
my opinion the devil has flown avay with the old feller. His time wos
nearer at 'and than he expected." "Devil or not, I'll have him back agin, or at all events the
pocket-book!" cried the Tinker. And, dashing up the stairs, he caught
hold of the railing above, and swinging himself up by a powerful effort,
passed through an opening, occasioned by the removal of one of the
banisters. [Illustration: The Hand and the Cloak.] Groping along the gallery, which was buried in profound darkness, he
shouted to the dwarf, but received no answer to his vociferations;
neither could he discover any one, though he felt on either side of the
passage with outstretched hands. The occupants of the different
chambers, alarmed by the noise, called out to know what was going
forward; but being locked in their rooms, they could render no
assistance. While the Tinker was thus pursuing his search in the dark, venting his
rage and disappointment in the most dreadful imprecations, the staircase
door was opened by the landlord, who had found the key in the greatcoat
left behind by the dwarf. With the landlord came the Sandman and Ginger,
the latter of whom was attended by all his dogs, still barking
furiously; while the rear of the party was brought up by the drowsy
waiter, now wide awake with fright, and carrying a candle. But though every nook and corner of the place was visited--though the
attics were searched, and all the windows examined--not a trace of the
dwarf could be discovered, nor any clue to his mysterious disappearance
detected. Astonishment and alarm sat on every countenance. "What the devil can have become of him?" cried the landlord, with a look
of dismay. "Ay, that's the questin!" rejoined the Tinker. "I begin to be of
Ginger's opinion, that the devil himself must have flown avay vith him. No von else could ha' taken a fancy to him." "I only saw a hand and a black cloak," said the Sandman. "I thought I seed a pair o' hoofs," cried the waiter; "and I'm quite
sure I seed a pair o' great glitterin' eyes," he added, opening his own
lacklustre orbs to their widest extent. "It's a strange affair," observed the landlord gravely. "It's certain
that no one has entered the house wearing a cloak such as you describe;
nor could any of the lodgers, to my knowledge, get out of their rooms. It was Old Parr's business, as you know, to lock 'em up carefully for
the night." "Vell, all's over vith him now," said the Tinker; "and vith our affair,
too, I'm afeerd." "Don't say die jist yet," rejoined Ginger. "The wenerable's gone, to be
sure; and the only thing he has left behind him, barrin' his topcoat, is
this here bit o' paper vich dropped out o' the pocket-book as he wos
a-takin' flight, and vich I picked from the floor. It may be o' some use
to us. But come, let's go down-stairs. There's no good in stayin' here
any longer."