All eyes were naturally turned on the cardinal, who, it was known, set great value on the exaggerated size of his chronometer. He asserted, with some show of reason perhaps, that the works acted more freely in a large case. However, he hesitated to lend me his beloved watch, till Pius VII. said to him:
“Cardinal, I fancy your watch will suit exactly; oblige me by handing it to M. de Grisy.”
His eminence assented, though not without numberless precautions; and when I had the chronometer in my hands, I drew the attention of the Pope and the cardinals to it, while pretending to admire the works and handsome chasing.
“Is your watch a repeater?” I then said to the cardinal.
“No, sir, it is a chronometer, and watches of that degree of accuracy are not usually encumbered with unnecessary machinery.”
“Indeed! a chronometer; then it must be English?” I said, with apparent simplicity.
“What, sir?” the cardinal replied, as if stung by my remark, “do you think chronometers are only made in England? On the contrary, the best specimens have always been made in France. What English maker can be compared with Pierre Leroy, Ferdinand Berthoud, or Brèguet above all, who made that chronometer for me?”
The Pope began to smile at the cardinal’s energy.
“Well, then, we will select this chronometer,” I said, putting a stop to the conversation I had purposely started. “I have, then, gentlemen, to prove to you its solidity and excellent qualities. Now for the first trial.”
And I let the watch fall to the ground. A cry of terror rose on all sides, while the cardinal, pale and trembling, bounded from his seat, saying, with ill-suppressed wrath,