It was late, and the party was on the point of breaking up, when Béroli suddenly made up his mind.
"Stop," he exclaimed, at the same time placing ten bank-notes, of a thousand francs each, on the table. "This is my last offer. Say yes, and the bargain is struck."
"You are resolved to cheat yourself?"
"Yes, I am," replied the amateur, in a bantering tone, looking again intently on the ring, which he had kept on his finger throughout the evening.
"Well, if you insist on it, you shall have it; only allow me to take out from a secret recess the lock of hair of my worthy uncle, who has been the means of making me get ten thousand francs. I certainly did not anticipate this great good luck. See what it is to be a connoisseur. Here; here is your ring. Thanks."
Early the following day, Béroli again went to his friend the jeweller. "I've got that splendid diamond," said he, addressing him. "Look here; see how beautiful it is! I am sure, that whenever I wish to part with it, I shall always get more than what you offered me."
"Do you think so?" responded the jeweller, taking up the ring, to look more closely at it.
"Stay; what's this?" he exclaimed. "What's this you have brought to show me? This a diamond! why, it is nothing but paste!"
The trick was played, and had succeeded. Under pretence of taking out his uncle's hair, Andréas had cleverly changed the diamond ring, for a paste one precisely similar, which he had had made for the express purpose.
On the following day, the ingenious and clever thief was far away, out of reach of Béroli and all chance of redress.