thickest cloths he could find.
His hands were so well padded that he was able to take the hot iron handle of the black kettle in them.
'Are you going to burn him?' asked Mrs. Hulter, the concern in her voice clear despite the rags protecting her face.
'I am afraid it will,' said Jake. 'When I give the signal, grab his head and pull him away from the stone.'
They walked back to the garden, where the philosopher had not stirred an inch in the hours since Jake had left him. The patriot spy took up the kettle and held it over Bebeefs hands, then told Mrs. Hulter to be ready.
'I'm sorry to hurt you, professor,' Jake told Bebeefs unmoving body a second before tilting the burning liquid. 'But I believe the cure better than the disease, and I have great need of your help.'
Mrs. Hulter grabbed her brother beneath the arms and hauled backwards as Jake started to pour the water. Bebeef fell from the chair, but the shock of the scalding water barely registered on his face. His hands were still stuck fast to the stone.
Jake kicked at his wrists and poured the rest of the water. Finally, with a loud, piercing scream, Bebeef began to writhe beneath his sister's arms, and the poisoned stone fell from his hands to the ground.
Chapter Thirty
There's no fool as an old fool,' said Bebeef a half hour later, restored to consciousness and some comfort by a formula taken from his own book of cures. He had refused bed rest and was even now setting his laboratory in the barn loft back to order. The immense room was filled with even more tubes, jars, and bottles than his store in Manhattan. A long table ran through the center of the room, and a large cabinet of fancy walnut trays sat beneath a triangular window at the far end of the room. A jar of healing salts sat open on the middle rung, having been used to take some of the sting from the burns.
'Naturally, I should have suspected something was amiss when the package arrived. But I have such a contempt for these blasted stones and their superstitions. People look everywhere for cures these days, instead of consulting with those who have studied the body and its humors scientifically.'
'I am sorry about your hands,' said Jake. 'But according to your notes, there was no other way to destroy the gum.'
'Couldn't be helped,' said the old man almost cheerfully. Thick gauze saturated with several ointments covered his hands, but otherwise he was in good shape. 'These will hamper me, but I have suffered handicaps before.'
'Do you know who prepared the stone?'
'There are only a few people with the knowledge to concoct something like this, and none bear me grudges,' said the professor. 'With the exception of one man, who has betrayed all his oaths and duties to the sacred knowledge he has gathered. He conducted human experiments for many years in London, and some friends have tried to have him arrested. I joined their petitions some months ago, but I had not heard if they were successful.'
'You're talking about Harland Keen,' said Jake.
It was one of the few times in his life Jake actually surprised the professor. 'You know him?'
'He is an assassin for the secret department. He has tried several times to kill me.'
'The secret department?'
'It is a coterie of men sworn to the king and charged with assassination. Keen has been after me for some time. I thought I had killed him a few weeks ago, but apparently he found a way to escape.'
Bebeef tried to grab hold of Jake's arm with his bandaged hand. 'You must be extremely careful. The man has a great store of knowledge — truly he is the incarnation of Faust, if not the devil himself.'
Bebeef‘s gaze fluttered momentarily. It was as if he could see through the window's chintz fly barrier, out over the countryside, past the Heights, the bay, into the city itself, searching for his enemy.
'He is not immortal,' the professor said finally. 'No man can cheat death. But Keen's mastery of medicines and the body are more than those of the entire college of Edinburgh taken together.'
'Beyond yours as well?'
Bebeef laughed lightly. 'I am but a poor country scholar. You see how easily I am fooled.'
'Keen must have prepared the stone some time ago. He has been busy of late.'
'Perhaps we can assume from his presence in America that our petitions were successful. So that is something. But come, Jake. I hope you did not travel here just to save me.'
'I would have,' said Jake. 'I owe you my life several times over. But I also have great need of your help. I want to kill someone. And then revive him.'
'The first part of the equation is easily solved, but the second has given philosophers fits for centuries.'
'Why else would I have sought you out?'
The professor's eyebrows began percolating, as if their roots were rubbing the furls of his brain.
'There will be witnesses, so the death must seem absolutely genuine,' said Jake. 'That is its whole point: I need to kidnap the man for a few hours without anyone realizing it. I was thinking of some sort of paralyzing powder,' he added. 'Something, perhaps, derived from a sea ray?'
'Paralyzing a man is not the same as killing him. He will continue to breathe heavily with that family of medicines.'
'Something else then. I need only a few minutes. But it must be convincing and relatively safe,' added Jake, 'as I will probably have to die as well.'
As Bebeef contemplated the problem, Jake studied the lines in the old man's face. Each seemed to record an entire library being investigated.
'The solution is not so elaborate as you think,' said Bebeef finally, his face glowing as he remembered a formula used by certain South American natives in their religious ceremonies. 'We will begin with a mandrake root from the garden. Bring me the green-spined book from the storage downstairs. Really, the formula is so simple to prepare I am surprised that you did not think of it yourself.'
'That is what you said about the shrinking potion you gave my father for the dog.'
'Oh yes, but I am sure this one will work.'
Alison slept soundly upstairs for many hours, until well past two. Mrs. Hulter, realizing by some innate sense that her guest was about to wake, walked silently into the room and stood by the bedside, so she was with her when she opened her eyes.
'It's all right, dear, you're among friends,' said Mrs. Hulter as Alison bolted upright in confusion. She put her hand gently on her shoulder, urging her back. 'Rest a while longer. Jake has told me all about your troubles. I am sorry for your poor father.'
A strange sensation took hold of Alison's chest, and suddenly she felt as if her heart had burst. Without warning, she began crying uncontrollably. Mrs. Hulter bent down and held her in her arms as the poor girl was overcome by the grief she had held so firmly in check.
She cried for a solid hour before finally falling back on the bed, exhausted and spent.
'It is a terrible ordeal to lose your father,' said the older woman gently. 'I cried for days when mine passed on. And I hardly knew my mother.'
'Me neither,' said Alison.
'My husband now, too, is missing,' said Mrs. Hulter, her lips quivering. 'There are rumors he is dead.'
'Jake can help find him,' said Alison.
Mrs. Hulter smiled weakly as she took control of herself. 'He has tried. Come. Let us see about getting you something to eat, and some clothes.'
'What happened to the clothes I was wearing?'
Her hostess wrinkled her nose. 'Those things? They smelled of the river, and several farms' worth of
