The Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas [261]
""I say that the diamond is real, and that this gentleman, one of the first jewellers of Paris, will give us 50,000. francs for it. Only, in order to satisfy himself that it really belongs to us, he wishes you to relate to him, as I have done already, the miraculous manner in which the diamond came into our possession. In the meantime please to sit down, monsieur, and I will fetch you some refreshment." The jeweller examined attentively the interior of the inn and the apparent poverty of the persons who were about to sell him a diamond that seemed to have come from the casket of a prince. "Relate your story, madame," said he, wishing, no doubt, to profit by the absence of the husband, so that the latter could not influence the wife's story, to see if the two recitals tallied."
""Oh," returned she, "it was a gift of heaven. My husband was a great friend, in 1814 or 1815, of a sailor named Edmond Dantes. This poor fellow, whom Caderousse had forgotten, had not forgotten him, and at his death he bequeathed this diamond to him."—"But how did he obtain it?" asked the jeweller; "had he it before he was imprisoned?"—"No, monsieur; but it appears that in prison he made the acquaintance of a rich Englishman, and as in prison he fell sick, and Dantes took the same care of him as if he had been his brother, the Englishman, when he was set free, gave this stone to Dantes, who, less fortunate, died, and, in his turn, left it to us, and charged the excellent abbe, who was here this morning, to deliver it."—"The same story," muttered the jeweller; "and improbable as it seemed at first, it may be true. There's only the price we are not agreed about."—"How not agreed about?" said Caderousse. "I thought we agreed for the price I asked."—"That is," replied the jeweller, "I offered 40,000 francs."—"Forty thousand," cried La Carconte; "we will not part with it for that sum. The abbe told us it was worth 50,000. without the setting.""
""What was the abbe's name?" asked the indefatigable questioner.—"The Abbe Busoni," said La Carconte.—"He was a foreigner?"—"An Italian, from the neighborhood of Mantua, I believe."—"Let me see this diamond again," replied the jeweller; "the first time you are often mistaken as to the value of a stone." Caderousse took from his pocket a small case of black shagreen, opened, and gave it to the jeweller. At the sight of the diamond, which was as large as a hazel–nut, La Carconte's eyes sparkled with cupidity."
"And what did you think of this fine story, eavesdropper?" said Monte Cristo; "did you credit it?"
"Yes, your excellency. I did not look on Caderousse as a bad man, and I thought him incapable of committing a crime, or even a theft."
"That did more honor to your heart than to your experience, M. Bertuccio. Had you known this Edmond Dantes, of whom they spoke?"
"No, your excellency, I had never heard of him before, and never but once afterwards, and that was from the Abbe Busoni himself, when I saw him in the prison at Nimes."
"Go on."
"The jeweller took the ring, and drawing from his pocket a pair of steel pliers and a small set of copper scales, he took the stone out of its setting, and weighed it carefully. "I will give you 45,000," said he, "but not a sou more; besides, as that is the exact value of the stone, I brought just that sum with me."—"Oh, that's no matter," replied Caderousse, "I will go back with you to fetch the other 5,000 francs."—"No," returned the jeweller, giving back the diamond and the ring to Caderousse—"no, it is worth no more,