most highly considered by the King and nation, had in vain offered large sums for the smallest specimen of Cardillac's work. He threw himself at the King's feet, and supplicated that, of his mercy, he would not command him to work for him; and he declined all orders of Madame de Maintenon's: once, when she wished him to make a little ring, with emblems of the arts on it, which she wanted to give to Racine, he refused with expressions of abhorrence and terror. "I would wager," said Madame de Maintenon, "therefore, that even if I were to send for Cardillac, to find out, at least, for whom he had made those ornaments, he would somehow evade coming, for fear that I should give him an order; nothing will induce him to work for me. Yet he does seem to have been rather less obstinate of late, for I hear he is working more than ever, and allows his customers to take away their jewelry at once, though he does so with deep annoyance, and turns away his face when he hands them over." Mademoiselle Scuderi, who was exceedingly anxious that the jewels which came into her possession in such an extraordinary manner should be restored to their owner as speedily as possible, thought that this wondrous René Cardillac should be informed at once that no work was required of him, but simply his opinion as to certain stones. The Marquise agreed to this; he was sent for, and he came into the room in a very brief space, almost as if he had been on the way when sent for. When he saw Mademoiselle Scuderi, he appeared perplexed, like one confronted with the unexpected, who, for the time, loses sight of the calls of courtesy; he first of all made a profound reverence to her, and then turned, in the second place, to the Marquise. Madame de Maintenon impetuously asked him if the jewelled ornaments--to which she pointed as they lay sparkling on the dark-green cover of the table--were his workmanship. Cardillac scarcely glanced at them, and, fixedly staring in her face, he hastily packed the necklace and bracelets into their case, and shoved them away with some violence. Then he said, with an evil smile gleaming on his red face, "The truth is, Madame la Marquise, that one must know René Cardillac's handiwork very little to suppose, even for a moment, that any other goldsmith in the world made those. Of course, I made them." "Then," continued the Marquise, "say whom you made them for." "For myself alone," he answered. "You may think this strange," he continued, as they both gazed at him with amazement, Madame de Maintenon incredulous, and Mademoiselle Scuderi all anxiety as to how the matter was going to turn out, "but I tell you the truth, Madame la Marquise. Merely for the sake of the beauty of the work, I collected some of my finest stones together, and worked for the enjoyment of so doing, more carefully and diligently than usual. Those ornaments disappeared from my workshop a short time since, in an incomprehensible manner." "Heaven be thanked!"