He had touched him this time. “It would tempt any poor scholar,” Kreutz replied, in the voice of one who had seen a sudden vision. Then more keenly, “But do you think that I possess in myself, my greater self as you call it, this secret of changing base metals into gold?” “I am sure of it”—Tring was almost dancing about his chair in eager enthusiasm—“if you will cease being a plodding scholar and a fool, and set yourself night and day to conquer this problem of the universe. Gold—gold—gold—that is what every man wants. Success always means gold, and those who work all their lives professing none but unselfish motives are but deceiving others in order to make themselves reverenced some of them perhaps are deceiving themselves. Why, with gold—think what you could do for your niece, think what you could do for the students of the university—you could make this school and, ay, the whole kingdom of Poland the greatest and most desired place in all the world.” Kreutz thought deeply for some minutes. It was quite evident even to Joseph, young and inexperienced as he was, that Tring had utterly poisoned the alchemist’s mind. Indeed now Kreutz looking at life through the philosophy of Tring saw that his own life was the life of a dusty plodder; it was the life not only of a poor man, but of a foolish man who might be better off if he wished, who now had the opportunity to do a great deal for those whom he loved, if he would but set himself to it. His thoughts had been on a plane too high for practicality. He had idealized mankind and he had tried to learn things which had seemed to him to be the very jewels of knowledge in the crown of wisdom—yes, that was what he had been, a dusty old plodder. And with these thoughts he surrendered utterly to Tring. “You are right, I truly believe,” he said with a sigh—“perhaps then we can possess this secret which will make us kings of the earth, as you say. With gold we can do these things, we can accomplish what we wish in the world, we can help the struggling, cure the sick, and do away with poverty entirely in this kingdom. Yes, it is, after all, a noble task—shall we repeat the experiment again to-night? Shall I enter into a trance again?” “Nay,” Tring had gained his end, “it is getting late and I would not repeat the experiment so shortly after the first trial, for fear perhaps that it would not be so successful as before. To-morrow evening we shall try it when we are both fresh again. . . . It was curious that to-night when you were in the deepest part of the trance, you called out that which every astrologer, alchemist, and magician had sought for centuries was within a few yards of the place where you sat. I had begun to think that we were upon the eve of a great discovery.” “Ay, it was then that something awoke me,” said the alchemist.