"Just so, madame. And you alone approach this mysterious truth. The man who has already grown old needs this large quantity to produce an immediate and powerful effect; but a woman of thirty, as you were, or a man of forty, as I was, when I began to drink this elixir, still full of life and youth, needs but ten drops at each period of decay; and with these ten drops may eternally continue his life and youth at the same point."
"What do you call the periods of decay?" asked Count Haga.
"The natural periods, count. In a state of nature, man's strength increases until thirty-five years of age. It then remains stationary until forty; and from that time forward, it begins to diminish, but almost imperceptibly, until fifty; then the process becomes quicker and quicker to the day of his death. In our state of civilization, when the body is weakened by excess, cares, and maladies, the failure begins at thirty-five. The time, then, to take nature, is when she is stationary, so as to forestall the beginning of decay. He who, possessor as I am of the secret of this elixir, knows how to seize the happy moment, will live as I live; always young, or, at least, always young enough for what he has to do in the world."
"Oh, M. Cagliostro," cried the countess; "why, if you could choose your own age, did you not stop at twenty instead of at forty?"
"Because, madame," said Cagliostro, smiling, "it suits me better to be a man of forty, still healthy and vigorous, than a raw youth of twenty."
"Oh!" said the countess.
"Doubtless, madame," continued Cagliostro, "at twenty one pleases women of thirty; at forty, we govern women of twenty, and men of sixty."
"I yield, sir," said the countess, "for you are a living proof of the truth of your own words."
"Then I," said Taverney, piteously, "am condemned; it is too late for me."
"M. de Richelieu has been more skilful than you," said La Pérouse naïvely, "and I have always heard that he had some secret."
"It is a report that the women have spread," laughed Count Haga.
"Is that a reason for disbelieving it, duke?" asked Madame Dubarry.
The old duke colored, a rare thing for him; but replied, "Do you wish, gentlemen, to have my receipt?"
"Oh, by all means."
"Well, then, it is simply to take care of yourself."
"Oh, oh!" cried all.
"But, M. Cagliostro," continued Madame Dubarry, "I must ask more about the elixir."
"Well, madame?"
"You said you first used it at forty years of age – "
"Yes, madame."
"And that since that time, that is, since the siege of Troy – "
"A little before, madame."
"That you have always remained forty years old?"
"You see me now."
"But then, sir," said De Condorcet, "you argue, not only the perpetuation of youth, but the preservation of life; for if since the siege of Troy you have been always forty, you have never died."
"True, marquis, I have never died."
"But are you, then, invulnerable, like Achilles, or still more so, for Achilles was killed by the arrow of Paris?"
"No. I am not invulnerable, and there is my great regret," said Cagliostro.
"Then, sir, you may be killed."
"Alas! yes."
"How, then, have you escaped all accidents for three thousand five hundred years?"
"It is chance, marquis, but will you follow my reasoning?"
"Yes, yes," cried all, with eagerness.
Cagliostro continued: "What is the first requisite to life?" he asked, spreading out his white and beautiful hands covered with rings, among which Cleopatra's shone conspicuously. "Is it not health!"
"Certainly."
"And the way to preserve health is?"
"Proper management," said Count Haga.
"Right, count. And why should not my elixir be the best possible method of treatment? And this treatment I have adopted, and with it have preserved my youth, and with youth, health, and life."
"But all things exhaust themselves; the finest constitution, as well as the worst."
"The body of Paris, like that of Vulcan," said the countess. "Perhaps, you knew Paris, by the bye?"
"Perfectly, madame; he was a fine young man, but really did not deserve all that has been said of him. In the first place, he had red hair."
"Red hair, horrible!"
"Unluckily, madame, Helen was not of your opinion: but to return to our subject. You say, M. de Taverney, that all things exhaust themselves; but you also know, that everything recovers again, regenerates, or is replaced, whichever you please to call it. The famous knife of St. Hubert, which so often changed both blade and handle, is an example, for through every change it still remained the knife of St. Hubert. The wines which the monks of Heidelberg preserve so carefully in their cellars, remain still the same wine, although each year they pour into it a fresh supply; therefore, this wine always remains clear, bright, and delicious: while the wine which Opimus and I hid in the earthen jars was, when I tried it a hundred years after, only a thick dirty substance, which might have been eaten, but certainly could not have been drunk. Well, I follow the example of the monks of Heidelberg, and preserve my body by introducing into it every year new elements, which regenerate the old. Every morning a new and fresh atom replaces in my blood, my flesh, and my bones, some particle which has perished. I stay that ruin which most men allow insensibly to invade their whole being, and I force into action all those powers which God has given to every human being, but which most people allow to lie dormant. This is the great study of my life, and as, in all things, he who does one thing constantly does that thing better than others, I am becoming more skilful than others in avoiding danger. Thus, you would not get me to enter a tottering house; I have seen too many houses not to tell at a glance the safe from the unsafe. You would not see me go out hunting with a man who managed his gun badly. From Cephalus, who killed his wife, down to the regent, who shot the prince in the eye, I have seen too many unskilful people. You could not make me accept in battle the post which many a man would take without thinking, because I should calculate in a moment the chances of danger at each point. You will tell me that one cannot foresee a stray bullet; but the man who has escaped a thousand gun-shots will hardly fall a victim to one now. Ah, you look incredulous, but am I not a living proof? I do not tell you that I am immortal, only that I know better than others how to avoid danger; for instance, I would not remain here now alone with M. de Launay, who is thinking that, if he had me in the Bastile, he would put my immortality to the test of starvation; neither would I remain with M. de Condorcet, for he is thinking that he might just empty into my glass the contents of that ring which he wears on his left hand, and which is full of poison – not with any evil intent, but just as a scientific experiment, to see if I should die."
The two people named looked at each other, and colored.
"Confess, M. de Launay, we are not in a court of justice; besides, thoughts are not punished. Did you not think what I said? And you, M. de Condorcet, would you not have liked to let me taste the poison in your ring, in the name of your beloved mistress, science?"
"Indeed," said M. de Launay, laughing, "I confess you are right; it was folly, but that folly did pass through my mind just before you accused me."
"And I," said M. de Condorcet, "will not be less candid. I did think that if you tasted the contents of my ring, I would not give much for your life."
A cry of admiration burst from the rest of the party; these avowals confirming not the immortality, but the penetration, of Count Cagliostro.
"You see," said Cagliostro, quietly, "that I divined these dangers; well, it is the same with other