He grasped my hand with a nervous
      empressement 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
      _scarabæus_ from Lieutenant G——. “Oh, yes,” he replied, coloring violently, “I got it from him the
      next morning. Nothing should tempt me to part with that
      _scarabæus_. 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, “to 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 _scarabæus!_”

      “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 scarabæus, 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 concordance 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. “But you may be ill and yet have no fever. Allow me this once to
      prescribe for you. In the first place, go to bed. In the next—”

      “You are mistaken,” he interposed, “I am as well as I can expect
      to be under the excitement which I suffer. If you really wish me
      well, you will relieve this excitement.”

      “And how is this to be done?”

      “Very easily. Jupiter and myself are going upon an expedition
      into the hills, upon the main land, and, in this expedition we
      shall need the aid of some person in whom we can confide. You are
      the only one we can trust. Whether we succeed or fail, the
      excitement which you now perceive in me will be equally allayed.”

      “I am anxious to oblige you in any way,” I replied; “but do you
      mean to say that this infernal beetle has any connection with
      your expedition into the hills?”

      “It has.”

      “Then, Legrand, I can become a party to no such absurd
      proceeding.”

      “I am sorry—very sorry—for we shall have to try it by ourselves.”

      “Try it by yourselves! The man is surely mad!—but stay!—how long
      do you propose to be absent?”

      “Probably all night. We shall start immediately, and be back, at
      all events, by sunrise.”

      “And will you promise me, upon your honor, that when this freak
      of yours is over, and the bug business (good God!) settled to
      your satisfaction, you will then return home and follow my advice
      implicitly, as that of your physician?”

      “Yes; I promise; and now let us be off, for we have no time to
      lose.”

      With a heavy heart I accompanied my friend. We started about four
      o’clock—Legrand, Jupiter, the dog, and myself. Jupiter had with
      him the scythe and spades—the whole of which he insisted upon
      carrying—more through fear, it seemed to me, of trusting either
      of the implements within reach of his master, than from any
      excess of industry or complaisance. His demeanor was dogged in
      the extreme, and “dat deuced bug” were the sole words which
      escaped his lips during the journey. For my own part, I had
      charge of a couple of dark lanterns, while Legrand contented
      himself with the _scarabæus_, which he carried attached to the
      end of a bit of whip-cord; twirling it to and fro, with the air
      of a conjuror, as he went. When I observed this last, plain
      evidence of my friend’s aberration of mind, I could scarcely
      refrain from tears. I thought it best, however, to humor his
      fancy, at least for the present, or until I could adopt some more
      energetic measures with a chance of success. In the mean time I
      endeavored, but all in vain, to sound him in regard to the object
      of the expedition. Having succeeded in inducing me to accompany
      him, he seemed unwilling to hold conversation upon any topic of
      minor importance, and to all my questions vouchsafed no other
      reply than “we shall see!”

      We crossed the creek at the head of the island by means of a
      skiff, and, ascending the high grounds on the shore of the main
      land, proceeded in a northwesterly direction, through a tract of
      country excessively wild and desolate, where no trace of a human
      footstep was to be seen. Legrand led the way with decision;
      pausing only for an instant, here and there, to consult what
      appeared to be certain landmarks of his own contrivance upon a
      former occasion. In this manner we journeyed for about two hours, and the sun was
      just setting when we entered a region infinitely more dreary than
      any yet seen. It was a species of table land, near the summit of
      an almost inaccessible hill, densely wooded from base to
      pinnacle, and interspersed with huge crags that appeared to lie
      loosely upon the soil, and in many cases were prevented from
      precipitating themselves into the valleys below, merely by the
      support of the trees against which they reclined. Deep ravines,
      in various directions, gave an air of still sterner solemnity to
      the scene.