“My children, my friends,” said Balthazar, “forgive my old servant, forgive me!  This event will drive me mad.  The chance work of seven years has produced—­without me—­a discovery I have sought for sixteen years.  How?  My God, I know not—­yes, I left sulphide of carbon under the influence of a Voltaic pile, whose action ought to have been watched from day to day.  During my absence the power of God has worked in my laboratory, but I was not there to note its progressive effects!  Is it not awful?  Oh, cursed exile! cursed chance!  Alas! had I watched that slow, that sudden—­what can I call it?—­crystallization, transformation, in short that miracle, then, then my children would have been richer still.  Though this result is not the solution of the Problem which I seek, the first rays of my glory would have shone from that diamond upon my native country, and this hour, which our satisfied affections have made so happy, would have glowed with the sunlight of Science.”

Every one kept silence in the presence of such a man.  The disconnected words wrung from him by his anguish were too sincere not to be sublime.

Suddenly, Balthazar drove back his despair into the depths of his own being, and cast upon the assembly a majestic look which affected the souls of all; he took the diamond and offered it to Marguerite, saying,—­

“It is thine, my angel.”

Then he dismissed Lemulquinier with a gesture, and motioned to the notary, saying, “Go on.”

The two words sent a shudder of emotion through the company such as Talma in certain roles produced among his auditors.  Balthazar, as he reseated himself, said in a low voice,—­

“To-day I must be a father only.”

Marguerite hearing the words went up to him and caught his hand and kissed it respectfully.

“No man was ever greater,” said Emmanuel, when his bride returned to him; “no man was ever so mighty; another would have gone mad.”

After the three contracts were read and signed, the company hastened to question Balthazar as to the manner in which the diamond had been formed; but he could tell them nothing about so strange an accident.  He looked through the window at his garret and pointed to it with an angry gesture.

“Yes, the awful power resulting from a movement of fiery matter which no doubt produces metals, diamonds,” he said, “was manifested there for one moment, by one chance.”

“That chance was of course some natural effect,” whispered a guest belonging to the class of people who are ready with an explanation of everything.  “At any rate, it is something saved out of all he has wasted.”

“Let us forget it,” said Balthazar, addressing his friends; “I beg you to say no more about it to-day.”

Marguerite took her father’s arm to lead the way to the reception-rooms of the front house, where a sumptuous fete had been prepared.  As he entered the gallery, followed by his guests, he beheld it filled with pictures and garnished with choice flowers.