He took the dose.
Directly he had taken it he began to weep naturally and refreshingly.
Presently he looked at their faces, suddenly laughed through his tears, a little foolishly.

"But--two--hun--dred--years!" he said.

He grimaced hysterically and covered his face again.
After a space he grew calm.

He sat up, his hands hanging over his knees in almost precisely the same attitude in which Isbister had found him on the cliff at Pentargen.

His attention was attracted by a thick domineering voice, the footsteps of an advancing personage.