rince of
the Bourse a palace that might have lodged a prince of the blood-royal,
eclipsed our Jew bankers in splendour, our jeunesse doree in good looks
and hair-brain adventures, and, strangest of all, filled his salons with
philosophers and charlatans, chemists and spirit-rappers; insulting the
gravest dons of the schools by bringing them face to face with the most
impudent quacks, the most ridiculous dreamers,--and yet, withal, himself
so racy and charming, so bon prince, so bon enfant! For six months he
was the rage at Paris: perhaps he might have continued to be the rage
there for six years, but all at once the meteor vanished as suddenly as
it had flashed. Is this the Margrave whom you know?"

"I should not have thought the Margrave whom I knew could have
reconciled his tastes to the life of cities."

"Nor could this man: cities were too tame for him. He has gone to some
far-remote wilds in the East,--some say in search of the Philosopher's
Stone; for he actually maintained in his house a Sicilian adventurer,
who, when at work on that famous discovery, was stifled by the fumes of
his own crucible. After that misfortune, Margrave took Paris in disgust,
and we lost him."

"So this is the only Englishman whom you envy! Envy him? Why?"

"Because he is the only Englishman I ever met who contrived to be rich
and yet free from the spleen; I envied him because one had only to look
at his face and see how thoroughly he enjoyed the life of which your
countrymen seem to be so heartily tired. But now that I have satisfied
your curiosity, pray satisfy mine. Who and what is this Englishman?"

"Who and what was he supposed at Paris to be?"

"Conjectures were numberless. One of your countrymen suggested that
which was the most generally favoured. This gentleman, whose name I
forget, but who was one of those old roues who fancy themselves young
because they live with the young, no sooner set eyes upon Margrave, than
he exclaimed, 'Louis Grayle come to life again, as I saw him forty-four
years ago! But no--still younger, still handsomer--it must be his son!"

"Louis Grayle, who was said to be murdered at Aleppo?"

"The same. That strange old man was enormously rich; but it seems that
he hated his lawful heirs, and left behind him a fortune so far below
that which he was known to possess that he must certainly have disposed
of it secretly before his death. Why so dispose of it, if not to enrich
some natural son, whom, for pr