"but as I have no more money, as you have seen, and as I yet
must retain the apartments, you must either sell this
diamond in the city, or hold it in pledge."

Cropole looked at the diamond so long, that the unknown
said, hastily:

"I prefer your selling it, monsieur; for it is worth three
hundred pistoles. A Jew -- are there any Jews in Blois? --
would give you two hundred or a hundred and fifty for it --
take whatever may be offered for it, if it be no more than
the price of your lodging. Begone!"

"Oh! monsieur," replied Cropole, ashamed of the sudden
inferiority which the unknown reflected upon him by this
noble and disinterested confidence, as well as by the
unalterable patience opposed to so many suspicions and
evasions. "Oh, monsieur, I hope people are not so dishonest
at Blois as you seem to think, and that the diamond, being
worth what you say ---- "

The unknown here again darted at Cropole one of his
withering glances.

"I really do not understand diamonds, monsieur, I assure
you," cried he.

"But the jewelers do: ask them," said the unknown. "Now I
believe our accounts are settled, are they not, monsieur
l'hote?"