"I should first learn what it is I should be engaged in," said I. "I
should be satisfied that the object was just, reasonable, and, above
all, practicable."

"You speak like a sage, boy," cried he. "Whence came such wisdom as
this?"

"All my teachings of this kind," said I, "have come from her who now
calls herself my mother, and whom I love with a son's affection."

"And how is she called?"

I could not tell him. I only knew her as one who was as a mother to me,
and yet said she had no title to that name. Once or twice I had
heard her addressed as the Countess. There ended my knowledge of her
condition.

"She is rich, then?" asked be.

"Far from it," said I, sorrowfully.

"Then can I make her so!" exclaimed he. "Joined with me in this mighty
enterprise, you can be the richest and the greatest man of the age. Nay,
child, this is not matter to smile at. I am no dreamer, no moon-struck
student of the impossible. I do not ponder over those subtle
combinations of metals that are to issue forth in yellow gold, nor do I
labor to distil the essences which are to crystallize into rubies. What
I strive at has been reached already,--the goal won, the prize enjoyed!
Ay, by my own father. By him was this brilliant discovery proclaimed
triumphantly before the face of Europe."

The exultation with which he uttered these words seemed to carry him
away in thought from the scene wherein he stood, and his eyes gleamed
with a strange fire, and his lips continued to mutter rapidly. Then,
ceasing of a sudden, he said,--

"I must seek her; she will recognize me, for she will have heard our
history. She will give her permission, too, to you to join me in my
great design. The fate that sent you hither was no accident. Boy, there
are none such in life. Our passions in their wilfulness color destiny
with fitful changes, and these we call chance; but in nature all is
predetermined, and by plan."

Now rambling on this wise, now stopping to question me as to who we
were, whence we came, and with what objects, he continued to talk till,
fairly overcome by weariness, I dropped off to sleep, his loud tones
still ringing in my ears through my dreams.

The following day he never left me; he seemed insatiable in his
desire to learn what progress I had made in knowledge, and how far my
acquirements extended. For classical learning and literature he
evinced no respect. These and modern languages, he said, were mere
accomplishments that m