'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 cannot. 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 jewellers, shewed the ruby, and begged to know its
value. The jeweller took the stone carelessly; but after a few
moments' examination of it, he cast a rapid glance at the threadbare
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