"yes, Miss Halcombe; something has happened."

I was on the point of answering, "I never
said so." But the vicious cockatoo ruffled his
clipped wings, and gave a screech that set all
my nerves on edge in an instant, and made me
only too glad to get out of the room.

I joined Laura at the foot of the stairs. The
thought in her mind was the same as the
thought in mine, which Count Fosco had surprised
— and, when she spoke, her words were
almost the echo of his. She, too, said to me,
secretly, that she was afraid something had happened.

RESUSCITATING ANIMALS.

DID you ever behold an Egyptian mummy,
or a Yarmouth bloater, or a red sprat, or
a Dutch herring, or a rat that had been
starved to death in a hole in a wall, or a pig
reduced to the condition of bacon arid ham, or a
handful of last year's dead flies in a garret?
Do you think that by any process of steaming,
or stewing, or simmering, or steeping; that by
any system of baths, whether vapour, shower,
hot, cold, medicated, hip, slipper, or foot,
natural or artificial, sulphurous or ferruginous,
Preissnitzian or Schlangenbadish— do you believe
that you could thereby succeed in causing
that mummy to walk and talk, that bloater to
disport in the German Ocean, that sprat to
wriggle his silver tail, that herring to flounder
in his cask of brine, that rat to nibble his way
out of prison, that pig to squeak his joy at resuscitation,
those flies to buzz their satisfaction,
at a return to life and consciousness? Can you
do that? You have your doubts. And yet,
such miracles ought to be quite possible, if what
has been written and printed for many a year
past, be true.

There exists a set of creatures which, from
their minute size, have been known to the public
only since the beginning of the last century or a
very little earlier. They are active in habits, complex
in anatomy, very widely dispersed wherever
there is water or even moisture. They are
found in the rain-gutters attached to buildings,
in the moss on walls and roofs and rocks, and
especially in stagnant puddles and sluggish pools
Their upper extremity, or head, is crowned with
a multiplicity of delicate organs, which, by an
optical illusion, present the appearance of
wheels revolving rapidly; on which account
these animalcules have received the general denomination
of Rotifers, or Wheel-bearers. Some
have shells, shaped like those of tortoises, and
into which they likewise draw their body, but
perfectly transparent in consequence of their
excessive thinness; some have no shell. Some
have what are supposed to be eyes; others have
no visible eyes: the tail of almost all is cleft at
the end into two portions, which are very like a
finger and thumb, or rather like two fingers side
by side. But the most interesting point is, that
all the rotifers, of which there are many species
are perfectly distinguishable under an inexpensive
microscope. They can be seen to take
their food, to masticate and digest it; to move
about or creep at will; to swim freely, unburdened,
or with an egg or two attached to them.
Their brilliant and cry-stalline transparency
allows you to inspect their structure more thoroughly
than you can inspect that of the living
gold-fish swimming in the globe on your table.

Another family on whom the attention of the
scientific public has been anxiously fixed are the
Tardigrada, or Slow-steppers, also called Waterbears,
because their shape is something intermediate
between that of a bear and a six-legged
caterpillar. Some of them are named Macrobioti,
or Long-livers, on account of the supposed
extensibility of their existence, about which
more anon. The tardigrades dwell in the same
localities as the rotifers, but are much less common,
without, however, being so rare as to be
difficult to procure for experiment. Their size
mostly is superior to that of rotifers.

Thirdly, everybody has heard of the eels in
vinegar. These are not eels at all, nor lampreys,
though they very much resemble eels swimming
about with the fore part of their head cut off
just behind the eyes, and without fins. They
are a species of the genus Anguillula, infusorial
and minute animals, very nearly related to
intestinal worms. One anguillule is found in
wet moss, green slime, rain water, and any little
accidental puddle; another multiplies and revels
in the paste made from wheaten flour, which is
used by bookbinders and shoemakers; but the
most famous of the family is the anguillule
which is found, coiled together and intertwined
in countless numbers, in the blighted kernels of
diseased wheat.

All these creatures— rotifers, tardigrades, and
anguillules— have the advantage of being, relatively
speaking, so large, that their observation
under the microscope is extremely easy. The
largest specimens are visible to the unassisted
eye, as whitish specks which can be seen to be
in motion. Consequently, there is no need of
high magnifying powers, nor of any very skilful
management of light, in order to study them.
They are the occupants of an aquarium which
lies at everybody's command.

The marvellous part of their history— which
has just exploded, like a bubble of soap-suds, at
the touch of truth— is this: It is granted that
these creatures are gifted with extreme tenacity
of life; that they will bear cruel treatment,
starvation, and drought; that they will remain
dormant and torpid for years. And so will other
animals with which we are acquainted, while
exposed to the influence either of excessive
winter's cold or of excessive summer's heat. But
we have been told, of the rotifers and the tardigrades
especially, that after being killed they can
be brought to life again, and that not once, but
after several killings; that they may be exposed
to the heat of boiling water; that they may be
revivified after the completest desiccation, after
they have been brought to and kept for an unlimited
time in a state of dryness in comparison