pocket a small case of black shagreen, opened, and gave it to the jeweller. At the sight of the diamond, which was as large as a hazelnut, La Carconte’s eyes sparkled with cupidity.”
“And what did you think of this fine story, eavesdropper?” said Monte Cristo; “did you credit it?”
“Yes, your excellency. I did not look on Caderousse as a bad man, and I thought him incapable of committing a crime, or even a theft.”
“That did more honor to your heart than to your experience, M. Bertuccio. Had you known this Edmond Dantès, of whom they spoke?”
“No, your excellency, I had never heard of him before, and never but once afterwards, and that was from the Abbé Busoni himself, when I saw him in the prison at Nîmes.”
“Go on.”
“The jeweller took the ring, and drawing from his pocket a pair