Then, as he made no response, she went on: “You are a genius, sir, a genius!”
“Ah! you recognize in me the divine spark?” murmured Abel, his visage faintly brightening. “Well, you are the first who has done so—the very first—and you shall share in my triumph; ay, half the gold-mine shall be yours.” Then, after a pause, “Do you know,” he added, “you may ere long be dwelling in Fifth Avenue and wearing diamonds and silks; though, if you follow my advice, you will always dress plainly and never change your pretty French cap for a fashionable hat full of feathers and ribbons.”
“Really!” cried Marguerite, whose faith in Abel Day was unbounded. “Living in Fifth Avenue, beautiful Fifth Avenue!” And she clapped her hands and skipped merrily along in front of him.
But presently from Abel’s lips burst another laugh, and this time there was something strange and wild about it which caused Marguerite to pause and look around; then, taking his hand, they walked on side by side in silence, and oh! how much she wished that he might not appear so unhappy.
At length they reached Abel’s home; and if Abel’s fellow-boarders had stared with astonishment the first time they saw him mounting to his room accompanied by a strange young woman, they made bigger eyes now as he ascended the stairway with a hen under his arm; nor was it easy for Marguerite to keep a grave countenance when presently the chicken began to cackle; and the cackling of the chicken and the giggling of the inquisitive females, who were following at a proper distance, made a very queer chorus.
“Let ’em laugh,” growled Abel after he had entered his chamber and fastened the door—“let ’em laugh; my day of triumph is nigh, and then they’ll be the veriest sycophants at my feet. But I’ll spurn them all; let ’em laugh.”
And now began the trial of the Magic Nest; Abel first cautioning Marguerite to speak in an undertone, if she had anything to say. Gently, as tenderly as a mother might handle her baby, the fowl was placed in the box; and forthwith she ceased to cackle, while the others ceased even to whisper. Then, motioning the girl to sit down on the bench, Abel stood beside her, awaiting with intense excitement the laying of the first egg. In a couple of minutes his brow was wet with perspiration, then his whole face became moistened; and when, by and by, after what seemed an age—’twas only a quarter of an hour—the hen did lay an egg, then rose up to look at it, Abel trembled so violently that Marguerite inquired if he were ill. But without heeding her question he went on trembling and saying, “The egg has vanished, vanished! and she can’t believe her eyes—she can’t believe her eyes!” And now for about a minute and a half it did really seem as if the hen, concluding she had made a mistake, was going to proceed and lay another egg, when, lo! she coolly stepped out of the box, and, after shaking her feathers, commenced pecking the bits of paper scattered over the floor.
When Abel Day perceived this his head swam a moment; then clenching his fists, and his cavernous eyes flashing fire, he sprang towards the chicken, and, forgetting all about eavesdroppers, he screamed loud enough to be heard from cellar to garret: “I’ll force you to do your duty! I will, I will!”
But, as ill-luck would have it, the window was open, and out of it flew the hen, so hotly pursued by Abel that he came within an ace of passing through it too; which had he done, his neck would certainly have been broken, for Abel had no wings.
Then, as if to make sport of him, the perverse creature perched herself on a neighboring chimney, where she set up a loud cackling.