Satisfied by the favorable impression my address produced, I gaily commenced my performance. I could not describe to you, my dear lad, all the pleasure I felt on this evening; and the spectators seemed to take such lively interest in all they saw, that I felt myself in unusual spirits. The Pope himself was delighted. “But, Monsieur le Comte,” he continually said, with charming simplicity, “how can you do that? I shall be quite ill with merely trying to guess your secrets.” After the “blind man’s game of piquet,” which literally astounded the audience, I performed the trick of the “burnt writing,” to which I owe an autograph I set great store by. This is how the trick is done: A person writes a sentence or two: he is then requested to burn the paper, which must be afterwards found intact in a sealed envelope. I begged his Holiness to write a sentence: he consented, and wrote as follows: “I have much pleasure in stating that M. le Comte de Grisy is an amiable sorcerer.” The paper was burned, and nothing could depict the Pope’s astonishment on finding it in the centre of a large number of sealed envelopes. I received his permission to keep this autograph. To end my performance, and set the crown on my exploits, I now proceeded to the trick I had invented for the occasion. Here I had several difficulties to contend with; the greatest was certainly to induce Cardinal de ---- to lend me his watch, and that without asking him directly for it, and, to succeed, I must have recourse to a ruse. At my request several watches were offered me, but I returned them with the excuse, more or less true, that, as they had no peculiarity of shape, it would be difficult to prove the identity of the one I chose. “If any gentleman among you,” I added, “has a watch of rather large size (this was the peculiarity of the cardinal’s), and would kindly lend it to me, I should prefer it as better suited for the experiment. I need not say I will take the greatest care of it; I only wish to prove its superiority, if it really possess it, or, on the other hand, to marvellously improve it.” All eyes were naturally turned on the cardinal, who, it was known, set great value on the exaggerated size of his chronometer. He asserted, with some show of reason perhaps, that the works acted more freely in a large case. However, he hesitated to lend me his beloved watch, till Pius VII. said to him: “Cardinal, I fancy your watch will suit exactly; oblige me by handing it to M. de Grisy.” His eminence assented, though not without numberless precautions; and when I had the chronometer in my hands, I drew the attention of the Pope and the cardinals to it, while pretending to admire the works and handsome chasing. “Is your watch a repeater?” I then said to the cardinal. “No, sir, it is a chronometer, and watches of that degree of accuracy are not usually encumbered with unnecessary machinery.” “Indeed! a chronometer; then it must be English?” I said, with apparent simplicity.