The Philosopher's Stone - Production & Contact Info

The Philosopher's Stone (1915)
Short | Short, Drama

Primary photo for The Philosopher's Stone

The Philosopher's Stone (1915)

Short | Short, Drama

Undue curiosity is a failing of most people. The sweetheart of John Service did not differ in this respect from other members of the fair sex, and when on a visit to her "boy's" mother she wanted to know all about their new neighbors. "Do ...See moreUndue curiosity is a failing of most people. The sweetheart of John Service did not differ in this respect from other members of the fair sex, and when on a visit to her "boy's" mother she wanted to know all about their new neighbors. "Do find out all about them, John," pleaded she, and like a foolish, young man he promised to make inquiries that very day. Deeply in love, he did not pause to reflect. It was enough for him, such is the logic of love, that Mavis wished to know. His curiosity was aroused, and if there was a mystery attached to the people who were so exclusive he would fathom it. But the inquiries he made were of no avail, and rather than confess himself beaten John, when night had fallen, forced his way into the grounds and walked towards a pavilion, the windows of which glowed with light. Inside Charles Claudel, an old shipowner, was pouring over a crucible. He was in search of the Philosopher's Stone. Gold had become an obsession, and the old man spent many long hours in the pavilion seeking the elusive. He lacked but one ingredient to win success, and as he sat poring never the recipes of old he saw reflected in the bottle before him the face of a young man. Turning quickly upon the intruder, he said, "Pray enter, sir," and Service came forward murmuring vague excuses for the indiscretion of prying into another's affair. "Don't apologize," replied Claudel, "it is probable you may be able to assist me in making gold. Young man, I am going to reveal to you an unimaginable thing, I have found the Philosopher's Stone. I can make gold. Do you hear? Gold!" Realising that he had to deal with a demented old man, Service evinced a keen interest in the assertion. "I congratulate you," said he, "in overcoming the difficulties which proved insuperable for the alchemists of old." "Yes, yes, I have beaten them all. I will show you how it is done. In this book you will read the records of the past, but wait until I bring my results for you to see. Sit down, and you shall hear my wonderful story." Service sat down and the old man turned to his bench, but instead of bringing forward his apparatus he rushed upon the young man with a rope and bound him securely to the chair, crying, "You are necessary to my experiment. Just listen to this," The greatest alchemists undertook the quest for the Philosopher's Stone, with which they hoped to convert the baser metals into gold and silver, it is sought for in the action of various drugs and principally in a man's blood, on condition that this blood comes from a young man healthy and vigorous. "Do you understand that? All that is required to finish my great work is blood, the blood of a young man, and you bring me yours." With a chuckle Claudel sat down and gazed at Service with delight. The victim of his own curiosity began to remonstrate with the old man, when the telephone rung, and Claudel said, "My daughter calls me to the villa. To-morrow we will begin our great experiment." Left alone in the pavilion, Service struggled in vain to free himself from the rope, but the old man had done his work too carefully. Eventually he gave up the struggle, but he managed to reach the telephone. In the villa Pauline Claudel, daughter of the old man, heard the ringing of the bell, and wondered who could be calling, her father had gone to bed, and the pavilion was locked up for the night. "Who are you?" she asked, "I am a prisoner through my unwarrantable curiosity. Tied in a chair, I am locked in the pavilion." Alarmed at such an occurrence, Pauline ran to the pavilion, and there found Service exhausted and terribly alarmed. "Who are you?" she asked again. "My name is John Service." "The son of the journalist Philip Service?" "Yes, madam; my father has been dead two years." "Ah, There are some terrible accounts to settle between us. Listen. Years ago my father, Charles Claudel, was the richest shipowner in Marseilles. One of his vessels, the Belle Helene sailed for Tunis, and the news shortly afterwards arrived that she had been wrecked. She carried a crew of thirty men who had worked for my father for years, and they were all men of Marseilles. Such news, therefore, caused consternation in the harbor. There was no doubt that the vessel was a total loss, and great was the grief. "Two days later a man, a journalist, came to see my father. He brought with him the proof of an article which was to be published that day. He read it: "Information from a reliable source warrants us in stating that the wreck of the Belle Helene was foreseen. We can go so far as to say that Mr. Claudel, the owner, knew that the vessel was not seaworthy. His agents reported this fact, but instead of repairing the vessel Claudel insured her for ten times her value and sent the vessel to her doom." "My father, the most honest of men, said, 'Sir, this is blackmail; it is infamy.'" Having a plan of campaign, the journalist was not to be frightened by protestations of innocence. He went further and said he could produce evidence in support of the article. My father defied him. Knowing that he was innocent, he did not fear the production of any evidence that could be brought, and told the journalist. "You wait and see," replied the blackmailer. Leaving the room he called in two clerks whom my father had dismissed for dishonesty. The men swore that they had assisted my father in over-insuring the vessel, and that he had done so knowing full well that the Bell Helene was unseaworthy. "You lie, all of you," cried my father, and drove them out of the house. Two days later a press campaign began against my father, attacking his honor and destroying my happiness. I was engaged to be married, but my fiancé threw me over. Because of the rumors his family insisted that he should break off the engagement, and under that cruel treatment my heart broke. A paper much read by the seafaring class insisted that the wreck of the Belle Helene was the work of my father who, knowing the state of the vessel, sent the crew to certain death. Naturally this enraged the people, and around the harbor the fury of the relatives and friends of the crews was raised against my father. They stormed our house, crying, "To death with the scoundrel!" Public opinion was so strong that my father, in order to establish his innocence, brought an action against the libeling newspapers. He won, but then the people cried out that he had bought his judges, there was no appeasing the people. They believed that my father was guilty, and nothing that we could do altered their opinion. The instigator of this campaign was Philip Service, your father. His career began with a crime. Even now it is not finished. Conscious of his innocence, my father continued to live at Marseilles. He was unmolested, but events proved that the people had neither forgotten nor forgiven. Not long ago the harbor workmen went out on strike. Things went badly with them, and their money was soon exhausted. One day they caught sight of my father and came to our house screaming, "Scoundrel, give us your gold." We had to leave the town. My father had gone mad. He was always saying, "Gold, gold; they want gold." It was then that we came here to live, and my father spends all his time trying to make gold. Terrified by this recital, and learning for the first time of the sad chapter in his father's life, Service faltered, "But you say my father did this. He is dead; neither I nor my mother have done you harm." "True, but justice led you here to us, and the ways of justice are sometimes inscrutable." So saying, Pauline left the distracted young man. She knew that in the hands of her father, intent on succeeding in his search for gold, Service's life would not be safe. Should she win revenge by leaving him to his fate? Long was the struggle which right and wrong waged within her, and in the end a great pity for the young man swept over her and she returned to release him. Not a moment too soon did she act. Old Claudel was returning to the pavilion to complete his great experiment. Quickly she undid the bonds, and as Service jumped from the window and fled through the grounds Claudel came into the room. Instead of the young man he saw his daughter sitting in the chair. "Where is he?" he cried. Pauline pointed to the window from which her father could see his victim running out of the grounds. With a cry of, "He has stolen my secret. He robs me of my gold, my gold!" the old man fell lifeless to the ground and the trials of the deeply-aged shipowner were over. Written by Picture and the Playgoer synopsis See less

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Name	Known for
René Navarre Claudel Claudel See fewer	Fantômas: In the Shadow of the Guillotine (1913)
Renée Carl Pauline Claudel Pauline Claudel See fewer	Severo Torelli (1914)

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