The old domestic rushed into the apartment, upon hearing the noise, and taking his master from the floor, proceeded to shake him with violence. "My God," cried the lady, "has this ever happened before?" "Yes, Madam," he replied, "he has a return of it about once, in every year." "And, for Heaven's sake, tell me what remedies do you employ?" she eagerly inquired. "There is one sovereign remedy," the old man replied; "his physician considers it a specific." "And what is it? tell me, in the name of Confucius," she passionately exclaimed, for the convulsions were growing more violent. "Nothing will restore him, but the brains of a man, recently dead, taken in warm wine. His father, who was governor of a province, when his son was last attacked, in this way, caused a criminal to be executed, that his brains might be thus employed." "Good God!" exclaimed the agonizing bride, for the convulsions, after a short remission, were returning, with redoubled violence, and the bridegroom was foaming terribly, at the mouth. "Tell me instantly, will the brains of a man who died a natural death answer as well?" "Undoubtedly," the old servant replied. "Well then," said she, in a tone somewhat subdued--"there is Chuang-tsze in the smoke-house." "Ah, Madam," said the old domestic, "I am aware of it--it occurred to me--but I feared to suggest it." "And of what possible use," she exclaimed, "can the brains of old Chuang-tsze be to him now, I should like to know?" At this moment, the convulsions became absolutely terrific. "These returns," said the old man, "will become more and more violent, till they destroy my poor master. There is no time to be lost." The wretched bride rushed from the apartment, and, seizing a hatchet, which happened to be lying in the outer passage, she hastily made her way to the old smoke-house. Elevating the hatchet above her head, she struck a violent blow, on the lid of the coffin. If the whole force of the blow had descended upon a secret spring, the lid could not have risen more suddenly. It seemed like the power of magic. The bride turned her eyes upon the closed lids of the corpse--they gradually opened; and the balls were slowly turned, and steadily fixed, upon her. In an instant Chuang-tsze sat, bolt upright, in his coffin! She sent forth a shriek of terror--the hatchet fell from her paralyzed hand--the cold sweat of confusion gathered thickly upon her brow. "My beloved wife," said the philosopher, with perfect calmness, "be so obliging as to lend me your hand, that I may get out.--I have had a charming nap," continued he, as he took the lamp from her hand, and advanced towards the hall. She followed, trembling at every step, and dreading the meeting, between the old philosopher and the young disciple.