merce that his master was
cordially willing to share with his great brother of France. At one of
these chatty tete-a-tetes, the munificent Riza Bey, upon whom the King
had already conferred his own portrait set in diamonds, and other gifts
worth several millions of francs, placed in the Royal hand several
superb fragments of opal and turquoise said to have been found in a
district of country bordering on the Caspian sea, which teemed with
limitless treasures of the same kind, and which the Shah of Persia
proposed to divide with France for the honor of her alliance. The king
was enchanted; for these mere specimens, as they were deemed, must, if
genuine, be worth in themselves a mint of money; and a province full of
such--why, the thought was charming!

Thus the great King-fish was fairly hooked, and Riza Bey could take his
time. The golden tide that flowed in to him did not slacken, and his own
expenses were all provided for at the Tuileries. The only thing
remaining to be done was a grand foray on the tradesmen of Paris, and
this was splendidly executed. The most exquisite wares of all
descriptions were gathered in, without mention of payment; and one by
one the Persian phalanx distributed itself through Europe until only two
or three were left with the Ambassador.

At length, word was sent to Versailles that the gifts from the Shah had
come, and a day was appointed for their presentation. The day arrived,
and the Hall of Audience was again thrown open. All was jubilee; the
King and the court waited, but no Persian--no Riza Bey--no presents from
the Shah!

That morning three men, without either caftans or robes, but very much
resembling the blacklegs of the day in their attire and deportment, had
left the Tuileries at daylight with a bag and a bundle, and returned no
more. They were Riza Bey and his last body-guard; the bag and the
bundle were the smallest in bulk but the most precious in value of a
month's successful plunder. The turquoises and opals left with the King
turned out, upon close inspection, to be a new and very ingenious
variety of colored glass, now common enough, and then worth, if
anything, about thirty cents in cash.

Of course, a hue and cry was raised in all directions, but totally in
vain. Riza Bey, the Persian Shah, and the gentlemen in flower-pots, had
"gone glimmering through the dream of things that were." L'etat c'est
moi had been sold for thirty cents! It was afterward believed that a
not