intheeveningIenteredhisstudy，aftertraversinganimposingbutemptydining-roomverydimlylit。Thehousewassilent。
　　IwasprecededbyanelderlygrimJavaneseservantinasortofliveryofwhitejacketandyellowsarong，who，afterthrowingthedooropen，exclaimedlow：“Oh，master!“andsteppingaside，vanishedinamysteriouswayasthoughhehadbeenaghostonlymomentarilyembodiedforthatparticularservice。Steinturnedroundwiththechair，andinthesamemovementhisspectaclesseemedtogetpusheduponhisforehead。Hewelcomedmeinhisquietandhumorousvoice。Onlyonecornerofthevastroom，thecornerinwhichstoodhiswriting-desk，wasstronglylightedbyashadedreading-lamp，andtherestofthespaciousapartmentmeltedintoshapelessgloomlikeacavern。Narrowshelvesfilledwithdarkboxesofuniformshapeandcolourranroundthewalls，notfromfloortoceiling，butinasombrebeltaboutfourfeetbroad。Catacombsofbeetles。Woodentabletswerehungaboveatirregularintervals。Thelightreachedoneofthem，andthewordColeopterawritteningoldlettersglitteredmysteriouslyuponavastdimness。Theglasscasescontainingthecollectionofbutterflieswererangedinthreelongrowsuponslender-leggedlittletables。Oneofthesecaseshadbeenremovedfromitsplaceandstoodonthedesk，whichwasbestrewnwithoblongslipsofpaperblackenedwithminutehandwriting。
　　“`Soyouseeme——so，“hesaid。Hishandhoveredoverthecasewhereabutterflyinsolitarygrandeurspreadoutdarkbronzewings，seveninchesormoreacross，withexquisitewhiteveiningsandagorgeousborderofyellowspots。“OnlyonespecimenlikethistheyhaveinyourLondon，andthen——nomore。TomysmallnativetownthismycollectionIshallbequeath。
　　Somethingofme。Thebest。“
　　`Hebentforwardinthechairandgazedintently，hischinoverthefrontofthecase。Istoodathisback。“Marvellous，“hewhispered，andseemedtoforgetmypresence。Hishistorywascurious。HehadbeenborninBavaria，andwhenayouthoftwenty-twohadtakenanactivepartintherevolutionarymovementof1848。Heavilycompromised，hemanagedtomakehisescape，andatfirstfoundarefugewithapoorrepublicanwatch-makerinTrieste。FromtherehemadehiswaytoTripoliwithastockofcheapwatchestohawkabout——notaverygreatopeningtruly，butitturnedoutluckyenoughbecauseitwastherehecameuponaDutchtraveller——aratherfamousman，Ibelieve，butIdon’trememberhisname。Itwasthatnaturalistwho，engaginghimasasortofassistant，tookhimtotheEast。TheytravelledintheArchipelagotogetherandseparately，collectinginsectsandbirds，forfouryearsormore。Thenthenaturalistwenthome，andStein，havingnohometogoto，remainedwithanoldtraderhehadcomeacrossinhisjourneysintheinteriorofCelebes——ifCelebesmaybesaidtohaveaninterior。ThisoldScotsman，theonlywhitemanallowedtoresideinthecountryatthetime，wasaprivilegedfriendofthechiefrulerofWajoStates，whowasawoman。IoftenheardSteinrelatehowthatchap，whowasslightlyparalysedononeside，hadintroducedhimtothenativecourtashorttimebeforeanotherstrokecarriedhimoff。Hewasaheavymanwithapatriarchalwhitebeard，andofimposingstature。Hecameintothecouncil-hallwherealltherajahs，pangerans，andhead-menwereassembled，withthequeen，afatwrinkledwomanveryfreeinherspeech，Steinsaid，recliningonahighcouchunderacanopy。Hedraggedhisleg，thumpingwithhisstick，andgraspedStein’sarm，leadinghimrightuptothecouch。
　　“Look，queen，andyourajahs，thisismyson，“heproclaimedinastentorianvoice。“Ihavetradedwithyourfathers，andwhenIdieheshalltradewithyouandyoursons。“
　　`BymeansofthissimpleformalitySteininheritedtheScotsman’sprivilegedpositionandallhisstock-in-trade，togetherwithafortifiedhouseonthebanksoftheonlynavigableriverinthecountry。Shortlyafterwardstheoldqueen，whowassofreeinherspeech，died，andthecountrybecamedisturbedbyvariouspretenderstothethrone。Steinjoinedthepartyofayoungerson，theoneofwhomthirtyyearslaterheneverspokeotherwisebutas“mypoorMohammedBonso。“Theybothbecametheheroesofinnumerableexploits；theyhadwonderfuladventures，andoncestoodasiegeintheScotsman’shouseforamonth，withonlyascoreoffollowersagainstawholearmy。Ibelievethenativestalkofthatwartothisday。Meantime，itseems，Steinneverfailedtoannexonhisownaccounteverybutterflyorbeetlehecouldlayhandson。Aftersomeeightyearsofwar，negotiations，falsetruces，suddenoutbreaks，reconciliation，treachery，andsoon，andjustaspeaceseemedatlastpermanentlyestablished，his“poorMohammedBonso“wasassassinatedatthegateofhisownroyalresidencewhiledismountinginthehighestspiritsonhisreturnfromasuccessfuldeer-hunt。ThiseventrenderedStein’spositionextremelyinsecure，buthewouldhavestayedperhapshaditnotbeenthatashorttimeafterwardshelostMohammed’ssister“mydearwifetheprincess，“heusedtosaysolemnly，bywhomhehadhadadaughter——motherandchildbothdyingwithinthreedaysofeachotherfromsomeinfectiousfever。Heleftthecountry，whichthislosshadmadeunbearabletohim。Thusendedthefirstandadventurouspartofhisexistence。Whatfollowedwassodifferentthat，butfortherealityofsorrowwhichremainedwithhim，thisstrangepartmusthaveresembledadream。Hehadalittlemoney；hestartedlifeafresh，andinthecourseofyearsacquiredaconsiderablefortune。Atfirsthehadtravelledagooddealamongsttheislands，butagehadstolenuponhim，andoflateheseldomlefthisspacioushousethreemilesoutoftown，withanextensivegarden，andsurroundedbystables，offices，andbamboocottagesforhisservantsanddependants，ofwhomhehadmany。Hedroveinhisbuggyeverymorningtotown，wherehehadanofficewithwhiteandChineseclerks。Heownedasmallfleetofschoonersandnativecraft，anddealtinislandproduceonalargescale。Fortheresthelivedsolitary，butnotmisanthropic，withhisbooksandhiscollection，classingandarrangingspecimens，correspondingwithentomologistsinEurope，writingupadescriptivecatalogueofhistreasures。SuchwasthehistoryofthemanwhomIhadcometoconsultuponJim’scasewithoutanydefinitehope。Simplytohearwhathewouldhavetosaywouldhavebeenarelief。Iwasveryanxious，butIrespectedtheintense，almostpassionate，absorptionwithwhichhelookedatabutterfly，asthoughonthebronzesheenofthesefrailwings，inthewhitetracings，inthegorgeousmarkings，hecouldseeotherthings，animageofsomethingasperishableanddefyingdestructionasthesedelicateandlifelesstissuesdisplayingasplendourunmarredbydeath。
　　“`Marvellous!“herepeated，lookingupatme。“Look!Thebeauty——butthatisnothing——lookattheaccuracy，theharmony。Andsofragile!Andsostrong!Andsoexact!ThisisNature——thebalanceofcolossalforces。
　　Everystarisso——andeverybladeofgrassstandsso——andthemightyKosmosinperfectequilibriumproduces——this。Thiswonder；thismasterpieceofNature——thegreatartist。“
　　“`Neverheardanentomologistgoonlikethis，“Iobserved，cheerfully。
　　“Masterpiece!Andwhatofman？“
　　“`Manisamazing，butheisnotamasterpiece，“hesaid，keepinghiseyesfixedontheglasscase。“Perhapstheartistwasalittlemad。Eh？
　　Whatdoyouthink？Sometimesitseemstomethatmaniscomewhereheisnotwanted，wherethereisnoplaceforhim；forifnot，whyshouldhewantalltheplace？Whyshouldherunabouthereandtheremakingagreatnoiseabouthimself，talkingaboutthestars，disturbingthebladesofgrass？……“
　　“`Catchingbutterflies，“Ichimedin。
　　`Hesmiled，threwhimselfbackinhischair，andstretchedhislegs。
　　“Sitdown，“hesaid。“Icapturedthisrarespecimenmyselfoneveryfinemorning。AndIhadaverybigemotion。Youdon’tknowwhatitisforacollectortocapturesuchararespecimen。Youcan’tknow。“
　　`Ismiledatmyeaseinarocking-chair。Hiseyesseemedtolookfarbeyondthewallatwhichtheystared；andhenarratedhow，onenight，amessengerarrivedfromhis“poorMohammed，“requiringhispresenceatthe“residenz“——ashecalledit——whichwasdistantsomenineortenmilesbyabridle-pathoveracultivatedplain，withpatchesofforesthereandthere。Earlyinthemorninghestartedfromhisfortifiedhouse，afterembracinghislittleEmma，andleavingthe“princess，“hiswife，incommand。
　　Hedescribedhowshecamewithhimasfarasthegate，walkingwithonehandontheneckofhishorse；shehadonawhitejacket，goldpinsinherhair，andabrownleatherbeltoverherleftshoulderwitharevolverinit。“Shetalkedaswomenwilltalk，“hesaid，“tellingmetobecareful，andtotrytogetbackbeforedark，andwhatagreatwickednessitwasformetogoalone。Wewereatwar，andthecountrywasnotsafe；mymenwereputtingupbullet-proofshutterstothehouseandloadingtheirrifles，andshebeggedmetohavenofearforher。ShecoulddefendthehouseagainstanybodytillIreturned。AndIlaughedwithpleasurealittle。Ilikedtoseehersobraveandyoungandstrong。I，too，wasyoungthen。Atthegateshecaughtholdofmyhandandgaveitonesqueezeandfellback。
　　ImademyhorsestandstilloutsidetillIheardthebarsofthegateputupbehindme。Therewasagreatenemyofmine，agreatnoble——andagreatrascal，too——roamingwithabandintheneighbourhood。Icanteredforfourorfivemiles；therehadbeenraininthenight，butthemistshadgoneup，up——andthefaceoftheearthwasclean；itlaysmilingtome，sofreshandinnocent——likealittlechild。Suddenlysomebodyfiresavolley——twentyshotsatleastitseemedtome。Ihearbulletssinginmyear，andmyhatjumpstothebackofmyhead。Itwasalittleintrigue，youunderstand。
　　TheygotmypoorMohammedtosendformeandthenlaidthatambush。Iseeitallinaminute，andIthink：Thiswantsalittlemanagement。Myponysnort，jump，andstand，andIfallslowlyforwardwithmyheadonhismane。
　　Hebeginstowalk，andwithoneeyeIcouldseeoverhisneckafaintcloudofsmokehanginginfrontofaclumpofbamboostomyleft。Ithink：Aha!
　　myfriends，whyyounotwaitlongenoughbeforeyoushoot？Thisisnotyetgelungen。Oh，no!Igetholdofmyrevolverwithmyrighthand——quiet——quiet。
　　Afterall，therewereonlysevenoftheserascals。Theygetupfromthegrassandstartrunningwiththeirsarongstuckedup，wavingspearsabovetheirheads，andyellingtoeachothertolookoutandcatchthehorse，becauseIwasdead。Iletthemcomeascloseasthedoorhere，andthenbang，bang，bang——takeaimeachtime，too。OnemoreshotIfireataman’sback，butImiss。Toofaralready。AndthenIsitaloneonmyhorsewiththecleanearthsmilingatme，andtherearethebodiesofthreemenlyingontheground。Onewascurleduplikeadog，anotheronhisbackhadanarmoverhiseyesasiftokeepoffthesun，andthethirdmanhedrawsuphislegveryslowlyandmakesitwithonekickstraightagain。Iwatchhimverycarefullyfrommyhorse，butthereisnomore——bleibtganzruhig——keepstill，so。AndasIlookedathisfaceforsomesignoflifeIobservedsomethinglikeafaintshadowpassoverhisforehead。Itwastheshadowofthisbutterfly。Lookattheformofthewing。Thisspeciesflyhighwithastrongflight。IraisedmyeyesandIsawhimflutteringaway。Ithink：Canitbepossible？AndthenIlosthim。Idismountedandwentonveryslow，leadingmyhorseandholdingmyrevolverwithonehandandmyeyesdartingupanddownandrightandleft，everywhere!AtlastIsawhimsittingonasmallheapofdirttenfeetaway。Atoncemyheartbegantobeatquick。Iletgomyhorse，keepmyrevolverinonehand，andwiththeothersnatchmysoftfelthatoffmyhead。Onestep。Steady。Anotherstep。Flop!Igothim!WhenIgotupIshooklikealeafwithexcitement，andwhenIopenedthesebeautifulwingsandmadesurewhatarareandsoextraordinaryperfectspecimenIhad，myheadwentroundandmylegsbecamesoweakwithemotionthatIhadtositontheground。Ihadgreatlydesiredtopossessmyselfofaspecimenofthatspecieswhencollectingfortheprofessor。Itooklongjourneysandunderwentgreatprivations；Ihaddreamedofhiminmysleep，andheresuddenlyIhadhiminmyfingers——formyself!
　　Inthewordsofthepoet“hepronouncedit“boet“：“Sohalt’ichendlichdenninmeinenHanden，Undnenn’esingewissemSinnemein。“
　　Hegavetothelastwordtheemphasisofasuddenlyloweredvoice，andwithdrewhiseyesslowlyfrommyface。Hebegantochargealong-stemmedpipebusilyandinsilence，then，pausingwithhisthumbontheorificeofthebowl，lookedagainatmesignificantly。
　　“`Yes，mygoodfriend。OnthatdayIhadnothingtodesire；Ihadgreatlyannoyedmyprincipalenemy；Iwasyoung，strong；Ihadfriendship，Ihadthelove“hesaid“lof““ofwoman，achildIhad，tomakemyheartveryfull——andevenwhatIhadoncedreamedinmysleephadcomeintomyhand，too!“
　　`Hestruckamatch，whichflaredviolently。Histhoughtfulplacidfacetwitchedonce。
　　“`Friend，wife，child，“hesaid，slowly，gazingatthesmallflame——“phoo!“
　　Thematchwasblownout。Hesighedandturnedagaintotheglasscase。
　　Thefrailandbeautifulwingsquiveredfaintly，asifhisbreathhadforaninstantcalledbacktolifethatgorgeousobjectofhisdreams。
　　“`Thework，“hebegan，suddenly，pointingtothescatteredslips，andinhisusualgentleandcheerytone，“ismakinggreatprogress。Ihavebeenthisrarespecimendescribing……Na!Andwhatisyourgoodnews？“
　　“`Totellyouthetruth，Stein，“Isaidwithaneffortthatsurprisedme，“Icameheretodescribeaspecimen……“