‘The young woman, in her confusion, names the first jeweller she can think of. The empress, after a few insignificant remarks, leaves her, and meanwhile the young woman continues to dance with the ill-fated diadem fastened to her head, more threatening than the sword of Damocles, The empress at once sends an aide-de-camp to inquire of the jeweller in question since when, and for whom, he had mounted that diadem. The jeweller of course denies all knowledge of the affair. The reply comes back immediately. Once more the empress interrogates the young woman. ‘“You have played the fool with me. Your jeweller denies having sold you this diadem. I am determined to know whence it came to you.” ‘The severe tone put an end to the young woman’s faint show of confidence. She stammered and stuttered, and Catherine’s suspicions were soon changed into certainties. The order was immediately given to arrest the two unworthy inspectors. Both, judged and proved guilty, were sent to Siberia; but by a strange freak, he who had sold the pearls in Holland, and transmitted their proceeds to his son, was left in possession, while the diamonds found in the house of the other were carefully brought back to the treasury. When, after some years of expiation the empress pardoned the two culprits, the first might well lay the flattering unction to his soul that justice was, after all, only a fable. The other would for ever curse his want of firmness, which had cost him his reputation and his future career. As for the young woman, she dearly paid for the short-lived satisfaction of her vanity, and the momentary gratification of outvying her rivals.’ After having made the round of the rooms once or twice, Griffiths and I left the Burg early. It was a beautiful evening, and we walked back to the Jaeger-Zeil. Passing before the mansion of the Comte de Rosenberg, we noticed that it was ablaze with light. Servants in resplendent livery crossed the courts carrying salvers with ices and fruits, while from the inside arose the strains of a harmonious band and the sound of many joyous voices. ‘It seems to me,’ I said to my companion, ‘that your countryman, Mr. Raily, treats his royal guest more sumptuously than usual to-day. If he goes on in that way his credit of a million at Arnstein’s won’t go far.’ ‘When that’s gone there will be more,’ replied Griffiths. ‘The career of professional gamesters is so thoroughly made up of unforeseen events and strange episodes, fortune comes so often to their aid, that the words “ruin,” “chance,” “audacity,” “opulence” are practically present in every line of their biography. Sometimes among all this there is also a flash of generosity, of devotion, and of downright magnanimity on their part. If the common observer had the clue to the enigma of these existences, then assuredly would vanish the fantastic prestige he fancies he sees in the fate of those Bohemians of Courts, of gambling hells, and palaces.