On the table is a map of his Canadian oil-fields.
He sits like this nearly every morning, the gilded box before him. It is his way of consulting the oracle. After his interview with the Butterfly he rises refreshed and clear of vision. This morning, if his thoughts could be written down, they might take this form:
"I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice. I have more than I can spend upon the indulgence of every whim that ever entered the head of sane man. When I have bought all the luxuries that the world has to sell, there still remains to be saved more than any other living man has to spend.
"What am I to do with it?
"Shall I lay it up in the Bank? The Bank might break. That is possible. Or the well might stop. No; that is impossible. Other wells have stopped, but no well has run like mine, or will again; for I have struck through the crust of the earth into the almighty reservoir.
"How to work out this trust? Who will help me to spend the money aright? How is such a mighty pile to be spent?
"Even if the Butterfly were to fall and break, who can deprive me of my wealth?"
His servant threw open the door: "Mr. Cassilis, sir."
CHAPTER XVIII.
"Doubtfully it stood,