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 should be? He was at his place in Normandy a week ago. I don't suppose there's any thing in the air just now to bring him to Vienna."

"Gospel truth you speak there, and 'tis only for twenty-four hours that we shall be wanting it. Midnight to-morrow should see us out of Vienna."

"With ten thousand pounds in our pockets, and no harm done to any one, sir."

"The devil a bit! Oh, it was a lucky day when you told me to write the history of a diamond—that is, if Benjamin King doesn't draw back. You never know quite whether you've got a Yankee by the tail, or whether he's got you by the teeth. But I've no doubts myself but what he'll buy."

"Nor me, either, sir. They say he never refused to buy a diamond with a history yet."

"And sure, was there ever a better history written than the one we put in the Figaro—about a stone that didn't exist, too? Man, it was a colossal notion of yours. If ye don't mind, we'll be off to drink a glass of wine to the health of it."

I had no objection to this, you may imagine; nor could I gainsay him when he declared that the whole thing was my idea. Mine the plan was, mine all through, and never a prettier one born, I'll swear. For, you see, what had brought us from Paris to Vienna was this—we had come to sell to Benjamin King, the American bacon merchant, a diamond which did not exist. How the thing came about is told in a few words. I happened to read one day in