that lay before him, the gilded furniture, the
courtesans, the feast itself, and the surrounding splendors, seemed to
catch him by the throat and made him cough.

"Do you wish for some asparagus?" the banker cried.

"_I wish for nothing_!" thundered Raphael.

"Bravo!" Taillefer exclaimed; "you understand your position; a
fortune confers the privilege of being impertinent. You are one of us.
Gentlemen, let us drink to the might of gold! M. Valentin here, six
times a millionaire, has become a power. He is a king, like all the
rich; everything is at his disposal, everything lies under his feet.
From this time forth the axiom that 'all Frenchmen are alike in the eyes
of the law,' is for him a fib at the head of the Constitutional Charter.
He is not going to obey the law--the law is going to obey him. There are
neither scaffolds nor executioners for millionaires."

"Yes, there are," said Raphael; "they are their own executioners."

"Here is another victim of prejudices!" cried the banker.

"Let us drink!" Raphael said, putting the talisman into his pocket.

"What are you doing?" said Emile, checking his movement. "Gentlemen," he
added, addressing the company, who were rather taken aback by Raphael's
behavior, "you must know that our friend Valentin here--what am I
saying?--I mean my Lord Marquis de Valentin--is in the possession of
a secret for obtaining wealth. His wishes are fulfilled as soon as he
knows them. He will make us all rich together, or he is a flunkey, and
devoid of all decent feeling."

"Oh, Raphael dear, I should like a set of pearl ornaments!" Euphrasia
exclaimed.

"If he has any gratitude in him, he will give me a couple of carriages
with fast steppers," said Aquilina.

"Wish for a hundred thousand a year for me!"

"Indian shawls!"

"Pay my debts!"

"Send an apoplexy to my uncle, the old stick!"

"Ten thousand a year in the funds, and I'll cry quits with you,
Raphael!"

"Deeds of gift and no mistake," was the notary's comment.

"He ought, at least, to rid me of the gout!"

"Lower the funds!" shouted the banker.

These phrases flew about like the last discharge of rockets at the end
of a display of fireworks; and were uttered, perhaps, more in earnest
than in jest.

"My good friend," Emile said solemnly, "I shall be quite satisfied with
an income of two hundred thousand livres. Please to set about it at
once."

"Do you not know the cost, Emile?" asked Raphael.

"A nice excuse!" t