I gave no reply for some seconds. When he repeated his words still more forcibly,—
“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,—