"In what way?" I asked, with a sad foreboding at heart.

"In supposing it to be a bug of REAL GOLD." He said this with an
air of profound seriousness, and I felt inexpressibly shocked.

"This bug is to make my fortune," he continued, with a triumphant
smile, "to reinstate me in my family possessions. Is it any
wonder, then, that I prize it? Since Fortune has thought fit to
bestow it upon me, I have only to use it properly and I shall
arrive at the gold of which it is the index. Jupiter, bring me
that scarabaeus!"

"What! de bug, massa? I'd rudder not go fer trubble dat bug--you
mus git him for your own self." Hereupon Legrand arose, with a
grave and stately air, and brought me the beetle from a glass case
in which it was enclosed. It was a beautiful scarabaeus, and, at
that time, unknown to naturalists--of course a great prize in a
scientific point of view. There were two round, black spots near
one extremity of the back, and a long one near the other. The
scales were exceedingly hard and glossy, with all the appearance
of burnished gold. The weight of the insect was very remarkable,
and, taking all things into consideration, I could hardly blame
Jupiter for his opinion respecting it; but what to make of
Legrand's agreement with that opinion, I could not, for the life
of me, tell.

"I sent for you," said he, in a grandiloquent tone, when I had
completed my examination of the beetle, "I sent for you, that I
might have your counsel and assistance in furthering the views of