clamps, and all the art of the blacksmith, could make it. Barbara having told them this, Olivier's fertile genius sug gested a means of effecting his plans. He was a fellow of infinite whim and humour, and of rare and varied talent. He could paint, sing, and fight, and was so good a comedian that he acted his way half through Italy; and had once collected money enough to maintain himself and his companions for a week, by means of a sermon which he preached at Naples, on St. Januarius's Day, in the character o fa Dominican friar. He was now about to assume a new character. On the following morning he presented himself at the door of Nicholas Flunk, in a garb so strange, and with an appearance so changed, that his own mother could not have known him. An Armenian habit, reaching to his heels, concealed his figure; a beard, somewhat grizzled, and very ample, hid half his face; and a high cap, which reached to his eyebrows, altered the expression of the rest. He requested a private interview with Flunk, and when he had, with some difficulty, obtained it, told him that he was an adept in the wonderful science of transmuting metals; and that hearing of Flunk's wealth, he believed he possessed the same secret. Old Nicholas listened with devouring attention to what the supposed Armenian said; assured him that he did not know, but was desirous of learning that precious art, and besought him to communicate it, offering him, at the same time, high rewards. Olivier told him it was a secret not to be bought with money, nor to be learnt by any human art; but that it depended wholly upon a certain aptness of the human body, a sympathy with the essence which makes gold out of viler metals, and which few persons had. Having said enough to excite the curiosity of his dupe, and having impressed him with a great notion of his gravity and sanctity, the took his leave for the present. Olivier then returned to Clement's garret, and set himself about assisting in the other part of the scheme, and in which his ingenuity and mechanical skill were mainly serviceable. After a few days had elapsed, in which he let the old miser's curiosity raise itself sufficiently high, he again called upon him. Nicholas had pondered over all that he had said in the mean time, and had sought in the works of Raimond Lully, which had long been his favourite study, for some explanation of the wonderful hints he had given him. Olivier found him more than half prepared for the wonders he had to tell him. With an abundance of hard words, and in that mystical jargon which was spoken by the adepts of the wonderful science, and which had really no meaning, he told him that he would show him the art of which he was a possessor. Nicholas introduced him to a private room, where a fire being lighted, Olivier melted a small quantity of lead, which he afterwards enclosed in a metal box, the outside of which was marked with cabalistical characters. He then ordered Nicholas to fall upon his knees, and repeat certain prayers which he recited. The old man did as he was bid, and Olivier, putting the box upon the ground, seated himself on it, and, with the oddest grimaces possible, kept Nicholas in an extasy of admiration. When he had amused himself as long as he chose, he rose and bade him open the box. He did so, and, instead of the small piece of lead which had been put into it, he found a piece of gold of about the size and weight of a double ducat. He could hardly believe his eyes, and even seemed to doubt whether it was gold, until Olivier told him to fetch his scales and tests. Having convinced himself of the purity of the metal, he prostrated himself at the feet of Olivier, and with the most fervent entreaties, besought him to impart to him the means by which he wrought this miracle. "This," replied Olivier solemnly," is nothing. I can do a million times as much: mine art enables me to change the ordinary metal into gold, by merely placing them in juxtaposition with each other." Nicholas stared. "Yes," continued the Frenchman, "it is only necessary for me to lay a purse of gold near to a purse of lead, and I can instantly extend, by the power of sympathy, the virtue of one to the other. Nay, let me sit but for a quarter of an hour upon a chest filled with goid, and bring an equal weight of lead into the room, and both shall be gold; and this power, too, I am sure you possess. All that is wanting is the knowledge how to exercise it." Nicholas renewed his entreaties, and urged so vehemently, that Olivier, with a great show of reluctance, at length promised to make him the master of his secret. The following night, at twelve (the only hour at which the spell would work) was fixed for the proof; and Olivier took his leave. At midnight, on the next night, Olivier was introduced by Nicholas, with abundant caution, to the chamber in which his treasure was locked. The Frenchman first began to explain to the merchant that it was by sitting on the gold that the charm worked, and then said, "have you plenty of lead in the room?" Nicholas pointed out to him certain bags filled with it, which he said corresponded in weight with the bags of gold he had in the chest. "Open your chest, then," said Olivier. Nicholas obeyed, and it was found filled to the brim with bags of coin, the contents of which were marked on the outside of each. Olivier seated himself on the gold, and, with the usual contortions and grimaces, began to utter the incantations which were to effect the change. Nicholas stood opposite to hion with a candle in his hand, and his eyes and mouth open in dumb astonishment. On a sudden a sound of soft music was heard; a light blue vapour began to fill the room, Nicholas began to sneeze, the vapour grew thicker and darker, the candle went out, and the old miser, throwing himself upon the floor, began to roar with all his might, "Thieves! Murder!" His house was too well barricadoed for any one to hear his cries, which alone broke the silence. As soon as he could command himself so far, he went down stairs to get another light, and having found it, he called his daughter. No answer was returned, nor could he see her in any part of the house. With the courage which despair inspires, he hastened back to the room, and, to his amazement and horror, discovered that his chest, its contents, and the Armenian, had wholly disappeared. To account for it was impossible: the windows and doors were fastened, and the only rational conclusion he could come to was that the devil had carried away his gold and the adept in the same blue vapour which had nearly choked Flunk himself. But his daughter was missing too; and as he did not believe that she could have shared the same fate, the poor man was in a sea of wild and desperate thoughts. On the following day he received a visit from a man who was as different as possible in appearance from the Armenian. He wore a clerical habit, and was a fat, jolly-looking, beardless person. He told him he had heard that his daughter had quitted his house. "Yes, mynheer," replied the disconsolate Flunk, “ and my gold too." I am a man of few words," said the stranger," and can point out a method by which you may regain both." las. 66 Name them, for the love of Heaven!" rejoined Nicho "Consent to your daughter's marriage with an honest painter who lives next door, and give her a moderate dowry now; and assure her a share of your fortune when you die." "And on these terms shall I have my chest again?" "You shall." "Then I consent." "Come then with me," said the stranger. He led the old man to a notary's, where the contract of marriage between Clement and Barbara was prepared: the church was at the next door; the young couple were at the altar, they signed the contract, the priest gave them his benediction, which Nicholas (not with the best grace in the world) sanctioned. They returned towards his house, and when they had reached the door, he said, " But where is my chest?" "Where it has always been, my good sir," said Olivier; "in your own garret." Nicholas ran up stairs faster than ever fat man ran before; and in his garret, in the very spot where he had last seen it, his chest was standing. He opened it, and found it still as full as ever. He was thunderstruck, "But how is all this!" he asked. "It is thus," said Olivier. "Through a small hole in the wall, Clement and I made our way into this your treasury We contrived to fit up a screen, which covered that recess in which your chest stands, and which we painted so as to resemble the wall behind it. Yonder it stands, on the other side of the room; and you cannot deny but that it is well painted, and ingeniously devised. When you came hither with that Armenian adept, whom I had the honour to personate, the blue vapour which issued from the hole in the wall, prevented your seeing me lift up the screen which hid your chest, and also from seeing your daughter and myself pass through into Clement's room, by an aperture, which the art of painting has also sufficed to conceal. The rest you know. It is impossible to deny that you have been most notably deceived, but not so much as you deserve, since you got your gold back safe. And for myself, by way of apology for the share I have had in this affair, all that I can say, is, I would do twice as much, at any time, to serve as honest a lad as Clement, and to take in so ill-natured a father as you proved yourself before this adventure, but as I trust you will be no more. For one thing, at least I'll answer :-you won't be cheated, by a trick of common juggling, to believe that lead may be made into gold." Nicholas was half disposed to be angry, but the recovery of his money had made him so happy, that be could not keep up his resentment. He performed his promise to the young couple. Clement got into practice as a painter, and, perhaps because he could then do without it, had all the old man's wealth at his death. Olivier, when he had seen them quite comfortable, returned to the vagabond life he most delighted in; and although his friends saw him not often, they never forgot the adept, to whom they were indebted for their good fortune. MAN'S FIRST THOUGHT. BY MRS ANN ROLFE, AUTHOR OF THE WILL, OR TWENTY-ONE YEARS, "Twas bright and fair, as light as air, Unladen with a sigh; From its retreat it rushed to meet A seraph in the sky. Around its brow, as pure as snow, To it was given the form of heaven Time saw it not, 'twas not his lot 'Twas love alone, from God's own throne |