He took several little packets from his pocket, and, seating himself at the table, commenced to carefully prepare another solution, the ingredients of which were unknown to me. Some of the drugs I knew by their appearance, of course, but others were white powders, impossible to recognise. Again he administered an injection into the arm of my prostrate loved one, and then we all three stood in silence watching for the effect. Hoefer gave vent to a further grunt of confidence, glanced at his watch, and turned back to the table to rearrange his array of drugs. I saw that the little pocket-case lying on the table contained about twenty tiny tubes about an inch and a half long; each contained very small pilules of tabloids, coloured brightly to render them more easily distinguishable, and not much larger than ordinary shot. Each tube was marked, but by mysterious signs unknown in British pharmacology. The action of this last prophylactic was slow, but signs were nevertheless not wanting that its effect was to reanimate, for by degrees the deathly pallor of the sweet face I adored became less marked, and the lips showed red instead of that ashen hue which had told us of her nearness to death. The German returned to her, and, feeling her pulse, counted the seconds upon his watch, while at the same time I listened to the respiration. "Good?" exclaimed the old fellow, beaming through his glasses. "The diagnosis is correct, and the refocillation is more rapid than I should have expected. She will recover." Suddenly the pallid cheeks became flushed. Life was returning. The liquid injected into the blood bad at last neutralised the effect, stimulated the circulation, reanimated the whole system, and revived the flickering spark of life. The hand I held grew warmer, the pulse throbbed more quickly, the breathing became regular, and a few minutes later, without warning, she opened her eyes and looked wonderingly around. A loud cry of joy escaped my lips. My love was saved. "You know me, I think?" I said, bending down to her. "My name is Colkirk." "Yes, I know you quite well," she responded very faintly. "But what has happened? Where is she?" "Whom do you mean? Your visitor?" "Yes," she responded eagerly. "We have no idea," I replied. "You have been taken ill, and my friend here. Doctor Hoefer, has been attending you." "How do you feel?" the old German asked in his brusque manner. "I am very thirsty," she answered. He took the decanter, and, mixing a little brandy and water, gave it to her. Then just at that moment her ladyship re-entered, and, falling on her knees, clasped her cousin around the neck and shed wild tears of joy. Liquid beef and other restoratives having been administered, the woman whose appearance had been identical in every respect with that of the dead was, ere long, able to sit up and talk with us. Her recovery had been almost as rapid as her attack.