with blood, a splash of which I noticed on the yellow silk of the Lama's coat.
"What have you done?" I exclaimed.
"Sh! Be still," he whispered turning to me his now quite blanched face.
With a few strokes of the knife he opened the chest of the Mongol and I saw the man's lungs softly breathing and the distinct palpitations of the heart. The Lama touched these organs with his fingers but no more blood appeared to flow and the face of the shepherd was quite calm. He was lying with his eyes closed and appeared to be in deep and quiet sleep. As the Lama began to open his abdomen, I shut my eyes in fear and horror; and, when I opened them a little while later, I was still more dumbfounded at seeing the shepherd with his coat still open and his breast normal, quietly sleeping on his side and Tushegoun Lama sitting peacefullly by the brazier, smoking his pipe and looking into the fire in deep thought.
"It is wonderful!" I confessed. "I have never seen anything like it!"
"About what are you speaking?" asked the Kalmuck.
"About your demonstration or 'miracle,' as you call it," I answered.
"I never said anything like that," refuted the Kalmuck, with coldness in his voice.
"Did you see it?" I asked of my companion.
"What?" he queried in a dozing voice.
I realized that I had become the victim of the hypnotic power of Tushegoun Lama; but I preferred this to seeing an innocent Mongolian die, for I had not believed that Tushegoun Lama, after slashing open the bodies of his victims, could repair them again so readily.
