A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, October 1950 — page 27: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

26 now, I will show you a little of the thing itself!” Smiling, he took up a graduated glass from the bench. Carefully he inspected it. He rinsed it in a sterilizing solution, which he washed away with distilled water. Then, setting it close at hand, he began unscrewing the gold top of the vial. “The Alkahest!’’ exclaimed he. “Yes, I have christened it with the name that Paracelsus gave to his imaginary uni- veseal element. Not that his idea was right, for there is not, nor can there ever be, any one substance which will both transmute the baser metals into gold and also renew the protoplasmic Urschleim which lies at the base of all life. Para- celsus’s theory that life is a fire and the body a kind of fuel is utterly untenable. I have proved that life itself is the material thing. And this is the fuel—the fire which burns out the dross and frees the body forever from all pain, decay and death.” Even as he spoke he had finished re- moving the flask-top. Then with a steady hand he poured out, into the graduate, seven drops of a most brilliant, scintillat- ing liquid. Golden as the vital itself, with irides- cent blends of color, it lay lustrous and beautiful at the bottom of the flint glass. “You see?” queried I] Vecchio. ‘Can you compute the value of this thing? Can you conceive the treasures that would deluge me if I but made it known and were willing to sell it?” He held the graduate up to the light, and turned it this way, then that. ‘Millionaires, kings, emperors—can you not behold them un- dertaking pilgrimages to me, and doing homage, and making my life intolerable? Do you wonder that, save to Witham and te you, who come from him, I have di- velged this to no living soul ?”’ The American, sick with emotion, leaned heavily against the edge of the long table. Instinctively he stretched forth his hand as though to clutch the glass; but I] Vecchio shook a forbidding head. “No, no!” he cried. “You do not un- derstand! You fail to realize the dangers that lie in this essence. Even I do not know as yet just how little or how much is needed to render the life-process static or reverse decline. I must yet immolate A. MERRITT’S FANTASY hosts of guinea-pigs with my _ solution and hpyodermic needles before I shall be fully informed. Be patient !”’ And already he began pouring the liquor back into its receptacle. “You see,”’ he added, ‘“‘I cannot leave it long exposed to the air, for it is highly volatile.” ““You—you—cannot—give—” = stam- ‘mered Dennison. “How éan If’? answered II Vecchio, once more screwing on the cover. ‘Be reasonable, my friend; be satisfied. You have seen what no other human eyes than mine have yet beheld. Let this suffice!” “But, listen!” “No, no, anything but this. forbids. It is impossible !”’ “That’s your last word?” “‘Come, come, where is your sense of professonal ethics? You cannot really mean to ask for the Alkahest! My house is yours, my garden, my table, my library and all I have; but—not even I myself would buy back youth at the price of drinking this!” “So, then, you putter with guinea-pigs and rabbits, and decline to accept me as a subject for experimentation? You re- fuse to save my life?” “No, not that,” replied the old man, showing now a trifle of vexation. ‘‘How can a man of your intelligence misunder- stand me so egregiously? Koch or Pas- teur with a new serum, Ehrich with his ‘606’ —would they have been justified in using all their new-found power, un- developed as yet, for one man’s benefit? Would not the whole world condemn and execrate such an action? Wait! Be pa- tient, I say. We shall see, if, as I hope, you are mistaken about your own condi- tion, and you stay with me a few months, who knows what may not happen? Calm yourself, my friend, and we shall see.” An oath burst from the American’s pale, writhen lips. With a sudden, pas- sionate outbrust of strength, which he hardly dreamed lay in him, stark-mad with baffled hopes and overstrung nerves, he flung himself suddenly upon II] Vec- chio. The old man, before he could turn or strike, or even cry for help, found his breath cut clean off by the twisting grip of the American on his shirt-collar. It was Science (C(O) nn) (C 6)(0)©) Ss (C(O)