Wheeling Compiler

FRENCH TRICK ON A JEWELLER.

We take the following anecdote from an article in the last number of the Western Review, on manners and Customs in France. The following is a translation of the narrative:—Mr. E—, a physician, well known for his skill in mental disorders, saw arrive at his gate, one morning, a lady who seemed forty years, although still young and fresh.—Madame de Countess de —— was admitted within the gate of the celebrated physician—The Countess introduced herself on the spot, and spoke as a mother in desolation and despair, in the following terms:—"Sir, you see a woman, a prey to the most violent anguish. I have a son; he is very dear to me, as well as to my husband; he is our only son."
Tears, like rain, fall: such as Artemisia shed over the tomb of Mausoleus. "Ah, yes"—Yes, alas sir and for some time we have suffered the most horrible fears.—He is now at the age when the passions develop. Although we gratify all his wishes, money, liberty, &c. he evinces many signs of complete dementation. The most remarkable is, that he is always talking about jewelry, or of diamonds, which he has sold or given to some woman, all unintelligible. We suppose he has become amorous of a woman, no better, perhaps, than she should be, and that he has involved himself in burdensome engagements, to satisfy his desires. This, sir, is but a conjecture. The father and I are lost in sounding the cause of his folly."

"Well, Madam, bring your son here."
Ah, to-morrow, sir! by all means, at noon.—"That will do." The doctor respectfully conducted the lady to her carriage, not forgetting to scan the coat of arms and the lackeys.
The next morning, the pretended Countess drove to a famous jeweller, and after having a long time cheapened a set of thirty thousand crowns, she finally purchased it. She took it, and negligently drew a purse from her reticule, found there ten thousand francs, in bank notes, and spread them out; but immediately gathering them up, she said to the jeweler, you had better send a person with me. My husband will pay him. I find I have not the entire sum.
The jeweller made a sign to a young man, who promptly delighted to go in such an equipage, started off with the Countess W. M.—She drove to the doctor's door.
She whispered to the doctor, "this is my son, I leave him with you." To the young man she said, "my husband is in his study. Well, he will pay you." The young man went in. The Countess and the carriage went off at first slow and noiseless; soon after the horses galloped.
Ah, well, young man, said the physician, you understand the business I suppose. Let us see. How do you feel? what is going on in this young head? What passes in my head, sir! nothing, except setting for the set of diamonds.—We understand all that, said the Doctor gently pushing aside the bill. I know, I know.—If the gentleman knows the amount, no more remains but to pay the cash. Indeed! Indeed! Be calm. Where did you get your equipage? What has become of them? Say as much as you will; I will listen patiently.—The business is to pay me sir, ninety thousand francs.—Whereof! How! —Whereof! said the young man, whose eyes began to glisten.—Yes, why should I pay you!—Because, Madam the countess has just purchased them at our house.— Good, here we have you. Who is the Countess?—Your wife and he presented the bill.—But young man, do you know I have the honor to be a physician, and a widower?—Here the young man became transported; and the doctor called his domestics, and bade them seize him by his hands and feet, which raised the transports of the young man to fury.—He cried thief! murder! But at the end of a quarter of an hour he, explained every thing soberly, and a terrible light began to dawn upon the doctor. Notwithstanding all the search that could be made, this singular theft, so witty, so original, from the scene which took place between the physician and the young man, was never discovered. The intrigante had taken good care to conceal every trace of herself. The drivers and lackeys were her accomplices. The carriage was hired and this history remains a monument in the memoirs of jewellers.