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"Those who are unacquainted with the perseverance and energy of Béroli," observed Raymond, in relating this anecdote to me, "may fancy that the diamond ring is lost to him for ever. Not so."
The amateur, after having been so cruelly deceived, took an oath that he would discover, and be revenged on, his enemy.
On examining the false ring, Béroli first made sure that it bore the goldsmith's mark, proving it to be of pure gold. This was not much consolation, still, it led him to suppose, that the real diamond ring must also, of course, bear the same stamp.
If, muttered Béroli to himself, the two rings have passed through the comptroller's hands, the stones are so large, and of such value, that it is next to impossible he did not remark them.
This simple reflection, was the first step towards the discovery of the real gem.
Furnished with a letter of introduction from his friend, the jeweller, Béroli proceeds to Paris, goes straight to the mint, and presents the ring to the comptroller, who perfectly remembers the two rings in question, and gives the address of the jeweller who manufactured them.
From the latter Béroli learns, that his customer, Andréas, lives at No. 13, Rue Cadet.
Any one else would have handed Andréas over to the police; but caring much more to obtain possession of his ring, than to satisfy the ends of justice, Béroli thinks it more prudent to take the affair into his own hands, and manage it in his own way.
He goes to the concierge, in the Rue Cadet, and slipping a napoleon into his hand, begins by relating to him a romantic tale, well calculated to impose on the man, and make him tell all he wished to know.