'contains the Gustavus
Adolphus emerald, which he gave to his princess, and which you pledged
to me as a family jewel of your own. Your influence with her Highness
must be great indeed,' I concluded, 'when you could extort from her
such a jewel as that, and when you could make her, in order to pay your
play-debts, give up a secret upon which both your heads depend.'

'Villain!' said the Frenchman, quite aghast with fury and terror, 'would
you implicate the Princess?'

'Monsieur de Magny,' I answered, with a sneer, 'no: I will say YOU STOLE
the jewel.' It was my belief he did, and that the unhappy and infatuated
Princess was never privy to the theft until long after it had been
committed. How we came to know the history of the emerald is simple
enough. As we wanted money (for my occupation with Magny caused our bank
to be much neglected), my uncle had carried Magny's trinkets to Mannheim
to pawn. The Jew who lent upon them knew the history of the stone in
question; and when he asked how her Highness came to part with it, my
uncle very cleverly took up the story where he found it, said that the
Princess was very fond of play, that it was not always convenient to
her to pay, and hence the emerald had come into our hands. He brought it
wisely back with him to S--; and, as regards the other jewels which the
Chevalier pawned to us, they were of no particular mark: no inquiries
have ever been made about them to this day; and I did not only not know
then that they came from her Highness, but have only my conjectures upon
the matter now.

The unfortunate young gentleman must have had a cowardly spirit, when I
charged him with the theft, not to make use of my two pistols that were
lying by chance before him, and to send out of the world his accuser and
his own ruined self. With such imprudence and miserable recklessness on
his part and that of the unhappy lady who had forgotten herself for this
poor villain, he must have known that discovery was inevitable. But it
was written that this dreadful destiny should be accomplished: instead
of ending like a man, he now cowered before me quite spirit-broken, and,
flinging himself down on the sofa, burst into tears, calling wildly upon
all the saints to help him: as if they could be interested in the fate
of such a wretch as he!

I saw that I had nothing to fear from him; and, calling back Zamor my
black, said I would myself carry the parcels, which I returned to my
escritoire; and, m