man, became one of
Cagliostro's disciples, and was bamboozled to his heart's content--in
fact, made to believe that the Count could put the devil into him, or
take him out, as the case might be.

The wondrous "Water of Beauty," that made old wrinkled faces look young,
smooth, and blooming again, was the special merchandise of the Countess,
and was, of course, in great request among the faded beaux and dowagers
of the day, who were easily persuaded of their own restored loveliness.
The transmutation of baser metals into gold usually terminated in the
transmigration of all the gold his victims had into the Count's own
purse.

In 1776, the Count and Countess came to London. Here, funnily enough,
they fell into the hands of a gambler, a shyster, and a female scamp,
who together tormented them almost to death, because the Count would
not pick them out lucky numbers to gamble by. They persecuted him fairly
into jail, and plagued and outswindled him so awfully, that, after a
time, the poor Count sneaked back to the Continent with only fifty
pounds left out of three thousand which he had brought with him.

One incident of Cagliostro's English experience was the affair of the
"Arsenical Pigs"--a notice of which may be found in the "Public
Advertiser," of London of September 3, 1786. A Frenchman named Morande,
was at that time editing there a paper in his own language, entitled "Le
Courrier de l'Europe," and lost no opportunity to denounce the Count as
a humbug. Cagliostro, at length, irritated by these repeated attacks,
published in the "Advertiser" an open challenge, offering to forfeit
five thousand guineas if Morande should not be found dead in his bed on
the morning after partaking of the flesh of a pig, to be selected by
himself from among a drove fattened by the Count--the cooking, etc., all
to be done at Morande's own house, and under his own eye. The time was
fixed for this singular repast, but when it came round, the French
Editor "backed down" completely, to the great delight of his opponent
and his credulous followers.

Cagliostro and his spouse now resumed their travels upon the Continent,
and, by their usual arts and trades, in a great measure renewed their
fallen fortunes. Among other new dodges, he now assumed so supernatural
a piety that (he said) he could distinguish an unbeliever by the smell!
which, of course, was just the opposite of the "odor of sanctity." The
Count's claim to have lived for hundreds of