ise all the actions upon certain conditions. Scot,
who had accompanied him, concealed himself behind the door, and suddenly
rushing out, presented a pistol at the heart of Cagliostro, swearing he
would shoot him instantly, if he would not tell him truly the art of
predicting lucky numbers and of transmuting metals. Reynolds pretending to
be very angry, disarmed his accomplice, and entreated the count to satisfy
them by fair means, and disclose his secrets, promising that if he would
do so, they would discharge all the actions, and offer him no further
molestation. Cagliostro replied, that threats and entreaties were alike
useless; that he knew no secrets; and that the powder of transmutation of
which they had robbed him, was of no value to any body but himself. He
offered, however, if they would discharge the actions, and return the
powder and the manuscripts, to forgive them all the money they had
swindled him out of. These conditions were refused; and Scot and Reynolds
departed, swearing vengeance against him.

Cagliostro appears to have been quite ignorant of the forms of law in
England, and to have been without a friend to advise him as to the best
course he should pursue. While he was conversing with his countess on the
difficulties that beset them, one of his bail called, and invited him to
ride in a hackney coach to the house of a person who would see him
righted. Cagliostro consented, and was driven to the King's Bench prison,
where his friend left him. He did not discover for several hours that he
was a prisoner, or, in fact, understand the process of being surrendered
by one's bail.

He regained his liberty in a few weeks; and the arbitrators between him
and Miss Fry made their award against him. He was ordered to pay the two
hundred pounds she had sworn against him, and to restore the necklace and
gold box which had been presented to the countess. Cagliostro was so
disgusted, that he determined to quit England. His pretensions, besides,
had been unmercifully exposed by a Frenchman, named Morande, the editor of
the _Courrier de l'Europe_, published in London. To add to his distress,
he was recognised in Westminster Hall as Joseph Balsamo, the swindler of
Palermo. Such a complication of disgrace was not to be borne. He and his
countess packed up their small effects, and left England with no more than
fifty pounds, out of the three thousand they had brought with them.

They first proceeded to Brussels, where fo