"I know not if the doctor will care to be disturbed," said Flapdragon. "He is busily engaged on a grand operation." "I will take the risk on myself," said Baldred. "The youth will die if he remains here. See, he has fainted already!" Thus urged, the dwarf laid down the halberd, and between the two, Auriol was speedily conveyed up a wide oaken staircase to the laboratory. Doctor Lamb was plying the bellows at the furnace, on which a large alembic was placed, and he was so engrossed by his task that he scarcely noticed the entrance of the others. "Place the youth on the ground, and rear his head against the chair," he cried, hastily, to the dwarf. "Bathe his brows with the decoction in that crucible. I will attend to him anon. Come to me on the morrow, Baldred, and I will repay thee for thy trouble. I am busy now." "These relics, doctor," cried the gatekeeper, glancing at the bag, which was lying on the ground, and from which a bald head protruded--"I ought to take them back with me." "Heed them not--they will be safe in my keeping," cried Doctor Lamb impatiently; "to-morrow--to-morrow." Casting a furtive glance round the laboratory, and shrugging his shoulders, Baldred departed; and Flapdragon having bathed the sufferer's temples with the decoction, in obedience to his master's injunctions, turned to inquire what he should do next. "Begone!" cried the doctor, so fiercely that the dwarf darted out of the room, clapping the door after him. Doctor Lamb then applied himself to his task with renewed ardour, and in a few seconds became wholly insensible of the presence of a stranger.