"But why did you call it the New Jerusalem?" asked Payot. "What name could be more appropriate? New Jerusalem--descending from Heaven--gates of pearls--streets of shining gold--my mine to a T. What could be finer as an illustration? To-morrow then at eight p.m. Au revoir, au revoir, mon brave," he said, as the butler in answer to the bell appeared at the door and opened it to its full extent, while the wheezy gentleman with his vast display of waistcoat toddled out of the room, bowing profusely. "A queer sort of card that," thought Payot to himself as he opened the prospectus and proceeded to examine it. If Payot thought that the baron was piling on the abnormal richness of the mine too thickly, he found to his surprise that the report of Monsieur Alexandre Norcier, the mining engineer, went considerably further. It was certainly an able report, but the fabulous richness of the reef absolutely staggered him. His eyes glistened with excitement and greed. "Ah," he said to himself, "if this mine is only a quarter as rich as the old baron makes out, I shall be one of the richest men in all Paris. Just think what power it will give me. What would old Duval have given to have a third share in it? I believe he would have sold his immortal soul to the Devil--aye a hundred times over. Well, there's no knowing, it may be true after all. Anyhow, I'll call on Norcier and Armand to-morrow and see what they have to say." When Payot fell asleep that night with his imagination already heated by the story told by the baron, he dreamt that he was filling trucks with nuggets of gold, and that they were being carted to the Mint every day of the year. When his fabulous wealth became known he was invited as the piece de resistance to the receptions at every Court in Europe. Daughters of royal blood strove in bevies to compete for his hand, and the President of the Republic decorated him with the Grand Cordon of the Legion d'Honneur, and the King of England with the Order of the Garter. Mighty schemes of reform filtered through his brain. He would rebuild Paris at his own expense on a scale that would dazzle humanity. He would fill the parks with statues rivalling those of Greece. He would erect palaces, museums, places of amusement far surpassing the Golden House of Nero. He would line the banks of the Seine with the choicest trees and flowers that the whole world could offer. He would deepen the Seine so as to form a ship-canal with a depth sufficient to admit the Oceanics, Imperators, and other sea monsters right up to the very quays of Paris. Next morning he woke with a violent headache, and it required several cups of café au rhum, combined with repeated doses of phenacetin to get him out of bed. The fresh air outside revived him, and thinking a walk would do him good, he proceeded on foot to Norcier's business offices.