Jupiter, bring me that _scarab?¦us_!"
"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 _scarab?¦us_, 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 Fate and
of the bug--"
"My dear Legrand," I cried, interrupting him, "you are certainly
unwell, and had better use some little precautions. You shall go to
bed, and I will remain with you a few days, until you get over
this. You are feverish and--"
"Feel my pulse," said he.
I felt it, and, to say the truth, found not the slightest indication
of fever.
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