"Do you know, monsieur," he said to me, "what a copy of the _Pastissier françois_ is worth?" "Why, I should judge it worth about a crown." "A copy of the _Pastissier françois,_ monsieur, is worth from two hundred to four hundred francs." "From two to four hundred francs ...?" "Yes, indeed.... Only a week ago, old Brunet, the author of _Manuel des libraires_, an enthusiastic Elzeviriomaniac, inserted a notice in the papers that he was willing to pay three hundred francs for a copy such as this. Luckily, Frank did not see the notice." "Pardon me, monsieur! but I warned you what an ignoramus lam ... you said a book like that was worth from two hundred to four hundred francs." "Yes, from two hundred to four hundred francs." "Why is there such a difference in the price?" "Because of the margins." "Ah! the margins?" "All the value of an Elzevir consists in the width of its margins; the wider they are, the dearer the Elzevir. An Elzevir without a margin is worth next to nothing; they measure the margins with compasses, and, according as they have twelve, fifteen or eighteen lines, the Elzevir is worth two hundred, three hundred, four hundred and even six hundred francs." "Six hundred francs!... I am of Madame Méchin's way of thinking." "And what was Madame Méchin's way of thinking?" "Madame Méchin is a very witty woman." "Yes, I am aware of that." "Her husband was prefect of the department of Aisne." "I know that too." "Well, one day when she was visiting Soissons with her husband, the governor of the place, to do her honour, showed her the guns upon the ramparts, one after the other. When she had seen all the kinds, of every date and every shape, and had exhausted her repertory of _Ohs!_ and _Reallys!_ and _Is it possibles! _ Madame Méchin, who did not know what to say next to the governor, asked him, 'How much does a pair of cannon cost, M. le gouverneur?' 'A twelve, twenty-four or thirty-six pounder, madame la comtesse?' 'Oh, let us say thirty-six?' 'A pair of thirty-six cannon, madame,' replied the governor,--'a pair of thirty-six cannon might cost from eight to ten thousand francs. 'Well, then,' replied Madame Méchin, 'I am not going to put my money on them.'" My neighbour looked at me, doubtful whether I had told the story innocently or jokingly. He was possibly going to question me on that head, when we heard the call bell; the overture began, and there were cries for silence. Upon this, I prepared myself to listen, whilst my neighbour plunged more deeply than ever into the reading of his precious Elzevir. The curtain rose. CHAPTER IX Prologue of the _Vampire_--The style offends my neighbour's ear--First act--Idealogy--The rotifer--What the animal is--Its conformation, its life, its death and its resurrection