There was something in the tone of this note which gave me great uneasiness. Its whole style differed materially from that of Legrand. What could he be dreaming of? What new crotchet possessed his excitable brain? What "business of the highest importance" could _he_ possibly have to transact? Jupiter's account of him boded no good. I dreaded lest the continued pressure of misfortune had, at length, fairly unsettled the reason of my friend. Without a moment's hesitation, therefore, I prepared to accompany the negro. Upon reaching the wharf, I noticed a scythe and three spades, all apparently new, lying in the bottom of the boat in which we were to embark. "What is the meaning of all this, Jup?" I inquired. "Him syfe, massa, and spade." "Very true; but what are they doing here?" "Him de syfe and de spade what Massa Will 'sis' 'pon my buying for him in de town, and de debbil's own lot of money I had to gib for 'em." "But what, in the name of all that is mysterious, is your 'Massa Will' going to do with scythes and spades?" "Dat's more dan _I_ know, and debbil take me if I don't b'lieve 'tis more dan he know, too. But it's all come ob de bug." Finding that no satisfaction was to be obtained of Jupiter, whose whole intellect seemed to be absorbed by "de bug," I now stepped into the boat and made sail. With a fair and strong breeze we soon ran into the little cove to the northward of Fort Moultrie, and a walk of some two miles brought us to the hut. It was about three in the afternoon when we arrived. Legrand had been awaiting us in eager expectation. He grasped my hand with a nervous _empressement_[12] which alarmed me and strengthened the suspicions already entertained. His countenance was pale even to ghastliness, and his deep-set eyes glared with unnatural lustre. After some inquiries respecting his health, I asked him, not knowing what better to say, if he had yet obtained the _scarabaeus_ from Lieutenant G——. "Oh, yes," he replied, coloring violently, "I got it from him the next morning. Nothing could tempt me to part with that _scarabaeus_. Do you know that Jupiter is quite right about it!" "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, and 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_!"