or's
gold snuff-box. Nobody knew what became of the presents sent to the old
money-lender. Everything went in, but nothing came out.

"'On the word of an honest woman,' said the portress, an old
acquaintance of mine, 'I believe he swallows it all and is none the
fatter for it; he is as thin and dried up as the cuckoo in the clock.'

"At length, last Monday, Gobseck sent his pensioner for me. The man came
up to my private office.

"'Be quick and come, M. Derville,' said he, 'the governor is just
going to hand in his checks; he has grown as yellow as a lemon; he is
fidgeting to speak with you; death has fair hold of him; the rattle is
working in his throat.'

"When I entered Gobseck's room, I found the dying man kneeling before
the grate. If there was no fire on the hearth, there was at any rate
a monstrous heap of ashes. He had dragged himself out of bed, but his
strength had failed him, and he could neither go back nor find the voice
to complain.

"'You felt cold, old friend,' I said, as I helped him back to his bed;
'how can you do without a fire?'

"'I am not cold at all,' he said. 'No fire here! no fire! I am going, I
know not where, lad,' he went on, glancing at me with blank, lightless
eyes, 'but I am going away from this.--I have _carpology_,' said he
(the use of the technical term showing how clear and accurate his mental
processes were even now). 'I thought the room was full of live gold, and
I got up to catch some of it.--To whom will all mine go, I wonder?
Not to the crown; I have left a will, look for it, Grotius. _La belle
Hollandaise_ had a daughter; I once saw the girl somewhere or other, in
the Rue Vivienne, one evening. They call her "_La Torpille_," I believe;
she is as pretty as pretty can be; look her up, Grotius. You are my
executor; take what you like; help yourself. There are Strasburg pies,
there, and bags of coffee, and sugar, and gold spoons. Give the Odiot
service to your wife. But who is to have the diamonds? Are you going
to take them, lad? There is snuff too--sell it at Hamburg, tobaccos are
worth half as much again at Hamburg. All sorts of things I have in fact,
and now I must go and leave them all.--Come, Papa Gobseck, no weakness,
be yourself!'

"He raised himself in bed, the lines of his face standing out as
sharply against the pillow as if the profile had been cast in bronze; he
stretched out a lean arm and bony hand along the coverlet and clutched
it, as if so he would fain ke