Craft and Hathaway could not help looking at this man in amazement.
Was this the man with whom they had played billiards, with whom they had drank and associated, never dreaming that he was engaged in any such investigations? Was he, indeed, crazy? and were they the listeners to a lunatic’s chattering discourse?
Such were the thoughts that passed through the minds of both.
Cobb stood watching the effect of his words upon them. He noted every change in their countenances; he read every thought as it came to their minds. He spoke not a word, waiting for them to give utterance to the skeptical ideas which he knew they entertained.
“It is too strange! It is too contrary to natural law and science! It is impossible!” and Craft arose as if to go.
“Yes, Cobb,” said Hathaway, “this is too much; it is a fancy you have gotten, but a fancy which can never be realized. You have allowed your theories to become shadows, your shadows to become tangible, but the tangibility is apparent to no one but yourself.” He too arose from his chair.
A smile played upon the lips of Cobb, a smile of perfect self-satisfaction. His eyes shone as if his very soul centered in them.
“Look!” he cried; “look! and behold for yourselves whether my words are worthy of consideration!”
Saying this, he raised the lid of the box on the table; then, stepping back and pointing his finger at it, exclaimed, in a tone of command, a tone of majestic confidence in his own power:
“Look! Behold life in death; death in life!”
Craft took a step forward, and glanced into the box. A puzzled and ludicrous expression came over his face, his lips parted, then, finally, his white teeth showed themselves as he gave vent to a loud and prolonged laugh.
Hathaway had by this time advanced and obtained a view of the contents of the box.
“A cat, by all that’s holy!” he exclaimed; “a poor dead cat!” and he too joined in the merriment of his friend.
Cobb stood still, not in the least endeavoring to check their hilarity, but waiting for them to get through.
Again the others looked at the cat in the box, and again they laughed heartily; but seeing Cobb so quiet, it at last dawned upon them that there was something peculiar in the surroundings of the animal.
In the box which had been brought out and placed upon the table was a large Maltese cat, lying upon its side on an asbestos pillow. The head of the animal was wrapped with bandages, as was also the under part of the body for a space of about two inches above its thighs. The cushion upon which it lay was placed within what appeared to be a zinc coffin of something under ten inches in height. At the head of the cat was a small saucer-shaped vessel with a perforated top, while surrounding the whole was a space of over four inches in width. In this space were the remains of a few crystals of some white substance. The box seemed to be lined with glass, and a glass top covered the whole, its sides seemingly glued to the sides of the box.
“Come,” said Craft, noticing that Cobb was waiting for some remark from one or the other of them; “tell us, Cobb, why you have that cat lying in that box. Is this the principle you have been speaking of? Are we really to believe that you have in that case an animal undergoing the treatment you have spoken of?”
“Gentlemen,” answered Cobb, with a feeling of pride, “you have guessed it. One year ago to-night, at twelve o’clock, I caused this poor animal to become insensible; then placing it in this case, with its mouth and nostrils covered, with bandages of nourishment about its loins, with a cup of stronetic acid at its head, and crystals of ozone surrounding the body, I hermetically sealed the case. From my experiments, I ascertained that the amount of ozone necessary for the continuance of life in an animal of this size, and for a period of one year, was 1,425 grains. This amount I put into the case. You can easily see how near correct I was in my calculations, for there are not over ten grains of ozone left on the floor of the box to-night. I asked you here, gentlemen, not only to listen to my lecture on ozone, but to witness the return to life of this animal.”
All laughter in Hathaway and Craft had changed to a grave attention to all that was said by their friend.
At last it seemed to them that there was something, indeed, in the theory he advanced. In an attitude of intense expectation, they awaited his next move.
“As I have said,” continued Cobb, “that cat was placed in this condition one year ago to-night. It is my intention to bring it to life again this evening; but before we begin, let us take a glass of wine and light our cigars, and then to business.”
He filled their glasses from the decanter on the table, and each took a fresh cigar from the box.
Craft again sat himself down in his chair and leisurely puffed clouds of smoke from his mouth, while Hathaway stood with his back to the fire.
Both were now prepared for anything which Cobb might advance, for it seemed to each of them that it was no longer a question of “Is it true?” but a “fact only to be proved.”
Cobb, having left the room, soon returned with a small box containing six cells of Grenet battery and about ten feet of wire attached to two pieces of copper. These he placed upon the table.
Taking the box containing the cat, he carried it to the front window and set it upon a chair. Entering once again his little work-room, he brought out three sponges and as many strips of common linen, and then from a bottle in his hand he sprinkled the sponges well. Approaching Craft, he said:
“Let me bind this upon your nostrils, and at the same time caution you not to open your mouth, but to breathe through the linen bandage and sponge.”
Craft arose and submitted to the operation of having his face below the eyes covered by the sponge and bandages.
Cobb