were to make a bid for your soul, would you not
give it to him now in exchange for the power of God? One single word,
and those five hundred thousand francs shall be back in the Baron de
Nucingen's safe; then you can tear up the letter of credit, and all
traces of your crime will be obliterated. Moreover, you would have gold
in torrents. You hardly believe in anything perhaps? Well, if all this
comes to pass, you will believe at least in the Devil."

"If it were only possible!" said Castanier joyfully.

"The man who can do it all gives you his word that it is possible,"
answered the Englishman.

Melmoth, Castanier, and Mme. de la Garde were standing out in the
Boulevard when Melmoth raised his arm. A drizzling rain was falling,
the streets were muddy, the air was close, there was thick darkness
overhead; but in a moment, as the arm was outstretched, Paris was filled
with sunlight; it was high noon on a bright July day. The trees were
covered with leaves; a double stream of joyous holiday makers strolled
beneath them. Sellers of liquorice water shouted their cool drinks.
Splendid carriages rolled past along the streets. A cry of terror broke
from the cashier, and at that cry rain and darkness once more settled
down upon the Boulevard.

Mme. de la Garde had stepped into the carriage. "Do be quick, dear!"
she cried; "either come in or stay out. Really you are as dull as
ditch-water this evening----"

"What must I do?" Castanier asked of Melmoth.

"Would you like to take my place?" inquired the Englishman.

"Yes."

"Very well, then; I will be at your house in a few moments."

"By the by, Castanier, you are rather off your balance," Aquilina
remarked. "There is some mischief brewing: you were quite melancholy and
thoughtful all through the play. Do you want anything that I can give
you, dear? Tell me."

"I am waiting till we are at home to know whether you love me."

"You need not wait till then," she said, throwing her arms round his
neck. "There!" she said, as she embraced him, passionately to all
appearance, and plied him with the coaxing caresses that are part of the
business of such a life as hers, like stage action for an actress.

"Where is the music?" asked Castanier.

"What next? Only think of your hearing music now!"

"Heavenly music!" he went on. "The sounds seem to come from above."

"What? You have always refused to give me a box at the Italiens because
you could not abide music, and are you t