s Vougeot_ downstairs,
fragrant with the odours and ruddy with the sunlight of the Cote d'Or.
Let us have up a couple of bottles. What say you?"

"With all my heart," answered Simon, smilingly.

I produced the wine and we seated ourselves to drink. It was of a
famous vintage, that of 1848, a year when war and wine throve
together,--and its pure but powerful juice seemed to impart renewed
vitality to the system. By the time we had half finished the second
bottle, Simon's head, which I knew was a weak one, had begun to yield,
while I remained calm as ever, only that every draught seemed to send a
flush of vigour through my limbs. Simon's utterance became more and
more indistinct. He took to singing French _chansons_ of a not very
moral tendency. I rose suddenly from the table just at the conclusion
of one of those incoherent verses, and, fixing my eyes on him with a
quiet smile, said: "Simon, I have deceived you. I learned your secret
this evening. You may as well be frank with me. Mrs. Vulpes, or rather
one of her spirits, told me all."

He started with horror. His intoxication seemed for the moment to fade
away, and he made a movement towards the weapon that he had a short
time before laid down. I stopped him with my hand.

"Monster!" he cried, passionately, "I am ruined! What shall I do? You
shall never have it! I swear by my mother!"

"I don't want it," I said; "rest secure, but be frank with me. Tell me
all about it."

The drunkenness began to return. He protested with maudlin earnestness
that I was entirely mistaken,--that I was intoxicated; then asked me to
swear eternal secrecy, and promised to disclose the mystery to me. I
pledged myself, of course, to all. With an uneasy look in his eyes, and
hands unsteady with drink and nervousness, he drew a small case from
his breast and opened it. Heavens! How the mild lamplight was shivered
into a thousand prismatic arrows, as it fell upon a vast rose-diamond
that glittered in the case! I was no judge of diamonds, but I saw at a
glance that this was a gem of rare size and purity. I looked at Simon
with wonder, and--must I confess it?--with envy. How could he have
obtained this treasure? In reply to my questions, I could just gather
from his drunken statements (of which, I fancy, half the incoherence
was affected) that he had been superintending a gang of slaves engaged
in diamond-washing in Brazil; that he had seen one of them secrete a
diamond, but, instead of info