"'I hope you will not complain now?' said the jeweler.
"'The abbé told me it was worth fifty thousand francs,' muttered Caderousse.
"'Come, come—give it to me! What a strange fellow you are!' said the jeweler, taking the diamond from his hand. 'I give you forty-five thousand francs, that is, two thousand five hundred livres of income, a fortune such as I wish I had myself, and you are not satisfied!'
"'And the five-and-forty thousand francs,' inquired Caderousse in a hoarse voice, 'where are they?—Come let us see them!'
"'Here they are,' replied the jeweler; and he counted out upon the table fifteen thousand francs in gold, and thirty thousand francs in bank-notes.
"'Wait whilst I light the lamp,' said La Carconte; 'it is growing dark, and there may be some mistake.' In fact, the night had come on during this conversation, and with the night the storm which had been threatening for the last half-hour. The thunder was heard growling in the distance; but neither the jeweler nor Caderousse nor La Carconte seemed to heed it, absorbed as they were all three with the demon of gain. I myself felt a strange kind of fascination at the sight of all this gold and all these bank-notes; it seemed to me that I was in a dream; and, as it always happens in a dream, I felt myself riveted to the spot. Caderousse counted and again counted the gold and the notes; then handed them to his wife, who counted and counted them again in her turn. During this time, the jeweler made the diamond play and sparkle beneath the ray of the lamp, and the gem threw out jets of light which made him unmindful of those which precursors of the storm began to play in at the windows.
"'Well,' inquired the jeweler, 'is the cash all right!'
"'Yes,' said Caderousse. 'Give me the pocket-book, La Carconte, and find a bag somewhere.'
"La Carconte went to a cupboard, and returned with an old leathern pocket-book, from which she took some greasy letters, and put in their place the bank-notes, and a bag, in which were at the moment two or three crowns of six livres each, and which, in all probability, formed the entire fortune of the miserable couple.
"'There,' said Caderousse; 'and now, although you have wronged us of perhaps ten thousand francs, will you have your supper with us? I invite you with good-will.'
"'Thank you,' replied the jeweler; 'it must be getting late, and must return to Beaucaire—my wife will be getting uneasy.' He drew out his watch, and exclaimed, 'Morbleu! nearly nine o'clock!—why, I
