"But how am I to ascertain the value of the jewel? I am no jeweler; and I fear, in my ignorance, to wrong either you or myself."
"I implore you, sir, not to refuse me. I have no alternative but to starve; for I am too old to work, and beg I can not. Keep the jewel as a pledge, and give me some relief."
Old Simon, though covetous, was not devoid of feeling. He was touched by the tears of the venerable lady; and besides, the more he looked at the jewel, the more persuaded he became of its being really valuable. After a few moments' consideration, he said: "All the money I am worth at this moment is 1500 francs; and though I have my suspicions that I am making a foolish bargain, I had rather run any risk than leave you in such distress. The next time I have business in Paris, I can ascertain the value of the jewel, and if I have given you too little, I will make it up to you." And with a glad and grateful heart the abbess took home the 1500 francs, thankful at having obtained the means of subsistence for at least a year.
Some months later, old Simon went up to Paris, and hastening to one of the principal jewelers, showed the ruby, and begged to know its value. The jeweler took the stone carelessly; but after a few moments' examination of it, he cast a rapid glance at the thread-bare coat and mean appearance of the possessor, and then abruptly exclaimed: "This jewel does not belong to you, and you must not leave the house till you account for its being in your possession. Close the doors," he said to his foreman, "and send for the police." In vain did Simon protest his innocence; in vain did he offer every proof of it. The lapidary would listen to nothing; but at every look he gave the gem, he darted at him a fresh glance of angry contempt. "You must be a fool as well as a knave," he said. "Do you know, scoundrel, that this is the Vatteville—the prince of rubies?—the most splendid, the rarest of gems? It might be deemed a mere creation of imagination, were it not enrolled and accurately described in the archives of our art. See here, in the Guide des Lapidaires, a print of it. Mark its antique fashioning, and that dark spot!—yes, it is indeed the precious ruby so long thought lost. Rest assured, fellow, you shall not quit the house until you satisfy me how you have contrived to get possession of it."
"I should at once have told you, but from unwillingness to endanger the life of a poor woman who has confided in me. I got the jewel from the Abbess de Vatteville herself, and it is her last and only resource." And now M. Simon proved, by unquestionable documents, that notwithstanding his more than humble appearance, he was a man of wealth and respectability, and received the apologies which were tendered, together with assurances that Madame Vatteville's secret was safe with one who, he begged to say, "knew how to respect misfortune, whenever and however presented to his notice."
"But what is the jewel worth?" asked M. Simon.
"Millions, sir! and neither I nor any one else in the trade here could purchase it, unless as a joint concern, and in case of a coronation or a marriage in one of the royal houses of Europe, for such an occasion alone could make it not a risk to buy it. But, meanwhile, I will, if you wish, mention it to some of the trade."
"I am in no hurry," said Simon, almost bewildered by the possession of such a treasure. "I may as well wait for some such occasion, and, in the mean time, can make any necessary advances to the abbess. Perhaps I may call on you again."
The first day of the year 1795 had just dawned, and there was a thick and chilling fog. The abbess and her faithful servant felt this day more than usually depressed, for fifteen months had now elapsed since the 1500 francs had been received for the ruby, and there now remained provision only for a few days longer. "I have got no answer from M. Simon," said the abbess; and in giving utterance to her own thought, she was replying to what was at that moment passing through Margaret's mind. "I fear he has not been able to get more for the ruby than he thinks fair interest for the money he advanced to me."
"It is most likely," said Margaret; and both relapsed into their former desponding silence.