it--is it real?"

"Real?" echoed the Egyptian scornfully. "Did you ever see light like
that come out of a sham stone? You should know more about gems than
that, Mr Josephus."

"Ah yes, yes, of course. It is glorious; it is worthy to shine on the
breastplate of the High Priest--and what a price it must be! Is it
allowed to ask the name of the great millionaire for whom it is
destined?"

"Yes. It will in a few hours be the property of Prince Oscar
Oscarovitch."

As Phadrig spoke he hid the gem in his hand. His voice was so changed
that the Jew looked up at him. His eyes were wide open now, and glowing
with a fire that made them look almost dull red. They seemed to see
right through his eyeballs and look into his brain. Josephus started as
though he had been struck. He tried to turn his head away, but the
terrible eyes held him. His fat, greasy, olive face grew grey and dry,
and his head shook from side to side.

"What is the matter, my dear Mr Josephus?" asked Phadrig, in slow, stern
tones. "The mention of the Prince seems to have affected your nerves.
Are you acquainted with His Highness?"

"Me? I? Why, how should I know a great man like the noble Prince? No,
no; of course I know him as a very grand and great gentleman, but that
is all, really all, my dear Phadrig."

"Yes, yes, of course," said the Egyptian, once more in his gentle voice;
"would not be likely, would it? Now, if you would like to look at the
gem more closely, go and sit down there by the light and take it in your
hand. You will see that it is engraved with hieroglyphics. They say that
this jewel was once the property of Rameses the Great of Egypt, and was
given by him to his daughter Nitocris."

This information did not interest the Jew in the slightest, since he had
never heard the names in his life; but the delight and honour of holding
such a glorious gem in his hand even for a few minutes was ecstasy to
him. He sat down, and held out his fat, trembling hand greedily. With a
smile of contempt Phadrig placed the jewel in it, and said:

"Examine it closely, my friend. It is well worth it, and it may be long
before you see another like it."

"Like--like _it_, like _this_! By the beard of Father
Moses, I should think not--I should think--I should--oh,
beautiful--glor--glorious--splendid--did--splen--oh, what a
light--li--light--li--oh----!"

As each of the disjointed syllables came from his shaking lips he
mumbled more and more, and his head