Mona | Page 7

He had no intention of disposing of the crescents--he simply wished to
tell him that he had himself concluded to purchase them, and then ask
the privilege of depositing them in Mr. Arnold's safe for a few days; for
they were to be his gift to the woman he loved, if she received his suit
with favor.
The gentleman was in, and his eyes lighted as his glance fell upon the
case which Mr. Cutler laid upon the show-case, for he believed that, in
purchasing the crescents, he was going to get an unusually good

bargain.
"Ah," he remarked, "the lady has decided to dispose of the stones?"
"Yes; but--" Mr. Cutler began, when he suddenly stopped, and gazed,
astonished, at the man.
He had taken the case, opened it, and started in dismay as he saw what
were within, while a look of blank consternation overspread his face.
Then he turned sternly, almost fiercely, upon the young man.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, in a threatening tone.
"Did you imagine you could cheat me in this miserable way? You have
got hold of the wrong customer if you did."
"What do you mean, sir?" inquired Mr. Cutler, amazed, but flushing
angrily at being addressed so uncivilly.
"These are not the stones you brought to me yesterday," said Mr.
Arnold, who was also very angry.
"Sir!" exclaimed Justin Cutler, aghast, but with haughty mien.
"They are nothing but paste," continued the jeweler, eyeing the
beautiful crescents with disdain; "and," he added, menacingly, "I've a
mind to have you arrested on the spot for attempting to obtain money
under false pretenses."
Mr. Cutler grew pale at this with mingled anger and a sudden fear.
He reached across the counter and took the case from Mr. Arnold's
hand.
He turned the stones to the light.
At the first glance they seemed to be all right--he could detect nothing
wrong; for aught that he could see the crescents were the same which
he had submitted to the merchant the day before. But as he studied

them more closely the gleam of the gems was entirely different--the fire
of the genuine diamond was lacking.
"Can it be possible that I have been duped, swindled?" he exclaimed,
with white lips and a sinking heart.
"I should say, rather, that you were attempting to dupe and swindle
some one else," sarcastically retorted the diamond dealer. "The stones
are a remarkably fine imitation, I am free to confess, and would easily
deceive a casual observer; but if you have ever tried and succeeded in
this clever game before, you are certainly caught this time."
"Mr. Arnold, I assure you that I am blameless in this matter--that I
honestly believed the jewels to be the same that I brought to you
yesterday," the young man said, with an earnest directness which
convinced the gentleman that he spoke the truth. "I see now," he
continued, "that they are not; and"--a feeling of faintness almost
overpowering him as he realized all that this experience would cost him,
aside from his pecuniary loss--"I have been outrageously deceived and
hoodwinked, for I have already advanced the sum you named to the
woman who wished to dispose of the diamonds."
Mr. Arnold searched the manly face before him, and was forced to
believe in the truth of his statements.
"If that is so, then you have indeed been wretchedly swindled," he said;
"for these crescents are but duplicates in paste of those I examined
yesterday. How did you happen to be so taken in?"
Mr. Cutler briefly related the circumstances, and when he concluded,
Mr. Arnold remarked:
"The woman was an accomplished cheat, and led you on very adroitly.
Your mistake was in advancing the money for the stones; if you had
brought these things to me first, you would have saved yourself this
loss. But of course she never would have allowed that; her game was to
get the money from you, and she worked you finely for it."

Mr. Cutler groaned in spirit as he realized it all, and how he had tied his
own hands by what he had written on the card that he had given to the
wily woman.
He kept this portion of the transaction to himself, however; he could
not confess how foolishly weak he had been. Surely his infatuation for
the beautiful widow had led him beyond all bounds of common sense
and good judgment; but he had no one but himself to blame, and he
must bear his loss as best he could. His lost faith in womanhood was
the heaviest part of it.
"I sincerely regret having put you to so much trouble, Mr. Arnold," he
courteously remarked, as he closed the jewel-case and put it out of sight,
"and as a favor,