hard to obtain this ray pure, because of the simultaneous
presence of other stars whose rays mingle with it. Flamel esteemed
it more simple to operate upon terrestrial fire. Flamel! there's
predestination in the name! _Flamma_! yes, fire. All lies there. The
diamond is contained in the carbon, gold is in the fire. But how to
extract it? Magistri affirms that there are certain feminine names,
which possess a charm so sweet and mysterious, that it suffices to
pronounce them during the operation. Let us read what Manon says on the
matter: 'Where women are honored, the divinities are rejoiced; where
they are despised, it is useless to pray to God. The mouth of a woman
is constantly pure; it is a running water, it is a ray of sunlight. The
name of a woman should be agreeable, sweet, fanciful; it should end in
long vowels, and resemble words of benediction.' Yes, the sage is right;
in truth, Maria, Sophia, la Esmeral--Damnation! always that thought!"

And he closed the book violently.

He passed his hand over his brow, as though to brush away the idea which
assailed him; then he took from the table a nail and a small hammer,
whose handle was curiously painted with cabalistic letters.

"For some time," he said with a bitter smile, "I have failed in all my
experiments! one fixed idea possesses me, and sears my brain like fire.
I have not even been able to discover the secret of Cassiodorus,
whose lamp burned without wick and without oil. A simple matter,
nevertheless--"

"The deuce!" muttered Jehan in his beard.

"Hence," continued the priest, "one wretched thought is sufficient to
render a man weak and beside himself! Oh! how Claude Pernelle would
laugh at me. She who could not turn Nicholas Flamel aside, for one
moment, from his pursuit of the great work! What! I hold in my hand the
magic hammer of Zechiele! at every blow dealt by the formidable rabbi,
from the depths of his cell, upon this nail, that one of his enemies
whom he had condemned, were he a thousand leagues away, was buried a
cubit deep in the earth which swallowed him. The King of France himself,
in consequence of once having inconsiderately knocked at the door of the
thermaturgist, sank to the knees through the pavement of his own Paris.
This took place three centuries ago. Well! I possess the hammer and the
nail, and in my hands they are utensils no more formidable than a club
in the hands of a maker of edge tools. And yet all that is required
is to find