“It’s very pretty, very thin, isn’t it?” asked Chérubin, holding the watch for his neighbor to see. That gentleman took it, scrutinized it again very closely, and exclaimed: “This is very strange! Is it a wager? Let me see the chain. Parbleu! the chain too. It would be curious if the pin--Allow me, my dear Chérubin.” And Monsieur Oscar, who, after examining Chérubin’s watch, had scrutinized and weighed in his hand the chain that he wore about his neck, turned his attention to his diamond pin. “What makes you stare at me like this?” queried Chérubin; “what is there about me that is so extraordinary?” “You have upon you objects that I am much surprised to see you wear,” replied Oscar; “a young man as rich as you are. You certainly didn’t pay much for your watch and chain and pin?” “Why, no, not too much--twenty-five hundred francs in all. To be sure, I got them at a bargain.” “Twenty-five hundred francs!” cried Oscar, bringing his hands together violently; “well, my dear fellow, in that case, you have been robbed! yes, absolutely robbed! The three articles are worth about sixty francs; the stones are imitation, and the watch and chain are gilded copper.” “Copper!” cried Chérubin; while Daréna muttered between his teeth: “Ah! the villain! I almost suspected as much!” “Why, it’s impossible! Monsieur Daréna’s man of business sold me all these things.” “I promise you that I am sure of what I say.” “Parbleu!” cried tall Mousseraud, in a sneering tone, “Oscar ought to know: his father was a watchmaker, and he was brought up in the shop.” “How can this be?” said Chérubin, addressing Daréna. “You are well aware that it was Poterne who brought me all these things.” Daréna broke a plate with his glass, crying: “If it is true, Poterne is a miserable villain who has deceived me outrageously; but I will shatter him like this plate.” Chérubin could not believe that they had told him the truth. They left the restaurant and entered the first jeweler’s shop they saw. The jeweler had no sooner examined the objects produced by the young man than he said in a most courteous, but slightly sarcastic tone: “Oh! how can you wear such trash, monsieur? I would not give fifteen francs for the whole lot.” Chérubin took off his chain, his pin and his watch, and dashed them all on the floor, in a passion which was due, not to the loss of his money, but to his vexation at being deceived. Then he gave the jeweler his address. “Please bring me to-morrow,” he said, “all that I believed that I really owned--the handsomest things that you have; you will see, monsieur, that I have the means to pay for genuine jewels.” The jeweler bowed, assuring him that he should be obeyed; and they left the shop. “As for your Monsieur Poterne,” cried Chérubin to Daréna, “I advise him not to show his face at my house again.” Daréna, making a show of being furious, seized Chérubin’s hand and shook it violently.