bed and a brougham for the day (nothing). See
Mdlle. S. G----'s account in private ledger, folios 26 and 27.

Bought of M. Gustave C--- a treatise on the flax and linen trade. 50
fr., and a rare edition of Josephus.

Sold Mdlle. S. G---- a complete set of new furniture. 5000 fr.

For the same, paid an apothecary's bill. 75 fr.

For the same, paid a milkman's bill. 3 fr. 85 c."

Those quotations show what an extensive range the operations of the Jew
Medici covered. It may be added, that although some articles of his
commerce were decidedly illicit, he had never got himself into any
trouble.

The Jew comprehended, on his entrance, that he had come at a favorable
time. In fact, the four friends were at that moment in council, under
the auspices of a ferocious appetite, discussing the grave question of
meat and drink. It was a Sunday at the end of the month--sinister day.

The arrival of Medicis was therefore hailed by a joyous chorus, for they
knew that he was too saving of his time to spend it in visits of polite
ceremony; his presence announced business.

"Good evening, gentlemen!" said the Jew. "How are you all?"

"Colline!" said Rodolphe, who was studying the horizontal line at full
length on his bed. "Do the hospitable. Give our guest a chair; a guest
is sacred. I salute Abraham in you," added he.

Colline took an arm chair about as soft as iron, and shoved it towards
the Jew, saying:

"Suppose, for once, you were Cinna, (you _are_ a great sinner, you
know), and take this seat."

"Oh, oh, oh!" shouted the others, looking at the floor to see if it
would not open and swallow up the philosopher. Meanwhile the Jew let
himself fall into the arm chair, and was just going to cry out at its
hardness, when he remembered that it was one which he himself had sold
to Colline for a deputy's speech. As the Jew sat down, his pockets
re-echoed with a silvery sound; melodious symphony, which threw the four
friends into a reverie of delight.

"The accompaniment seems pretty," said Rodolphe aside to Marcel. "Now
for the air!"

"Monsieur Marcel," said Medicis, "I have merely come to make your
fortune; that is to say, I offer you a superb opportunity of making your
entry into the artistic world. Art, you know, is a barren route, of
which glory is the oasis."

"Father Medicis," cried Marcel, on the tenter-hooks of impatience, "in
the name of your revered patron, St. Fifty-percent, be brief!"

"Here it is," continued Med