The marquis took the snuffbox in his hand and looked at it. "It is handsome," said he; "it is curious. It is solid silver, and is worth--" he weighed it in his hand--"a hundred livres, perhaps." He pressed the spring and opened the box as he spoke. It was full of cotton. Something dropped from it upon the coverlet. The marquis picked it up. It was a diamond of excessive brilliancy, almost as large as a bean. The incomparable August was busied in removing the chocolate-pot and the empty cup, but presently observing the silence, he looked around. The marquis was holding something between his thumb and forefinger, and his eyes were as big as teacups. His face was a sight to see. August was startled out of his composure. He hastily set the waiter with the china upon the window-seat, and hurried to the bedside. "What is it, monseigneur?" said he. His voice roused the marquis. "Where is the lady who came in the carriage?" he cried, excitedly. "Run, stop her!" He flung the bedclothes off himself and jumped with one bound out upon the floor. Once again August was startled out of his decorum. "Monseigneur!" Then, recovering himself again: "The lady, monseigneur, is gone." The gardener, working upon the terrace below, heard the rattle of a window flung violently open, and, upon looking up, was very much surprised to behold Monseigneur the Marquis, still clad in his colored dressing-gown, and with his nightcap thrust tipsily over one side of his head. So the marquis stood looking out of the window staring into space, for he had no more idea who it was that had stopped at the door and had left him a diamond worth twenty-five thousand livres than if he had never been born. "Ha!" thought he; "the letter; it was signed Oliver de Monnière." Thereupon he drew his head in and shut the window again. SCENE FOURTH.--_The parlor of the house in Flourens._ Oliver's mother has returned some little time from the château, and Oliver and she are talking it over between them. "The marquis will visit us," said Oliver, "within an hour." "He will do no such thing," said Oliver's mother; "he will not come at all." "He will," said Oliver, taking out his brand-new watch from his breeches pocket and looking at it--"he will be here within a half an hour." Oliver's mother sniffed incredulously. Oliver arose from the sofa where he was sitting and went to the window, and there stood drumming upon the sill, looking out into the street. Suddenly he drew back. The rumble of a coach was heard; it stopped before the house. A servant opened the coach door, and monseigneur himself stepped out. He had driven over from the château, and had stopped at the inn. Pierre was standing at the door-way when the marquis leaned out from the window and beckoned--yes, actually beckoned to him. Pierre was so surprised that he took off not only his hat, but his wig also, and stood there bowing in the sun, with his head glistening like a billiard-ball.