“I am,” said the student.

“Hast thou sacrificed thy mother and sister to the infernal powers?”

“Of course,” said the student, “Hast thou attestations of all these circumstances under the hands and seals of a thousand and one demons?”

The student displayed his parchments.

“Thou hast undergone every trial,” pronounced the seventh goblin; “thou hast won the right to enter the treasury of the treasurer of all things, and to choose from it any one talisman at thy liking.”

The imps cheered, the goblins congratulated, the serpents shrank hissing away, the lions fawned upon the student, a centaur bore him upon his back to the treasurer’s presence.

The treasurer, an old bent man, with a single lock of silvery hair, received the adventurer with civility.

“I have come,” said the student, “for the talismans in thy keeping, to the choice among which I have entitled myself.”

“Thou hast fairly earned them,” replied the old man, “and I may not say thee nay.  Thou canst, however, only possess any of them in the shape which it has received at my hands during the long period for which these have remained in my custody.”

“I must submit to the condition,” said the student.

“Behold, then, Aladdin’s lamp,” said the ancient personage, tendering a tiny vase hardly bigger than a pill-box, containing some grains of a coarse, rusty powder.

“Aladdin’s lamp!” cried the student.

“All of it, at least, that I have seen fit to preserve,” replied the old man.  “Thou art but just in time for this even.  It is proper to apprise thee that the virtues of the talisman having necessarily dwindled with its bulk, it is at present incompetent to evoke any Genie, and can at most summon an imp, of whose company thou wilt never be able to rid thyself, inasmuch as the least friction will inevitably destroy what little of the talisman remains.”

“Confusion!” cried the young man, “Show me, then, Aladdin’s ring.”

“Here,” replied the old man, producing a plain gold hoop.

“This, at least,” asked the student, “is not devoid of virtue?”

“Assuredly not, if placed on the finger of some fair lady.  For, its magic properties depending wholly upon certain engraved characters, which I have gradually obliterated, it is at present unadapted to any other use than that of a wedding-ring, which it would subserve to admiration.”

“Produce another talisman,” commanded the youth.

“These,” said the ancient treasurer, holding up two shapeless pieces of leather, “are the shoes of swiftness, incomparable until I wore them out.”

“This, at least, is bright and weighty,” exclaimed the student, as the old man displayed the sword of sharpness.

“In truth a doughty weapon,” returned the treasurer, “if wielded by a stronger arm than thine, for it will no longer fly in the air and smite off heads of its own accord, since the new blade hath been fitted to the new hilt.”