ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.

New Zealand Herald, Volume VII, Issue 1842, 9 December 1869, Page 4

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.

(From Once a TFeck.) Sojje years ago I knew a lapidarv who gained a considerable fortuue by a great misfortune. An excellent workman, honest as the day, Montin had but one fault; he was too fond of good wine, which caused him to neglect his woik, sometimes for days together, to the great dissatisfaction ot bis employer, who in all other respects valued and esteemed him highly, both for his skill and probity. One day Montin received from his master a diamond of the finest water to cut and polish, with strict recommendations to keep sober until the work was finished. " I rely on your activity," said the jeweller, on giving him the stone. " I must have it without fail on the 15th instant; and if you disappoint me ! this time it will be the last you will liave from i me."

Montin promised exactitude, asked, as was usual with him, part pay in advance, and set himself courageously to work. Under his skilful hand the diamond soon began to show fortli its beauty; in a few more hours it would have been finished, when, unfortunately for Montin's resolutions, a friend called on him, an old comrade, who had been Jong absent from Paris : what could they do but take a glass together? Arrived at the cabaret, the time passed quickly away, and Montin thought no more of liis unfinished work.

During tlie morning his employer came to see how the polish of the diamond proceeded. Tlie concierge assured him that Montin had only just gone out, and and would not fail to return directly, as he had for some days been working steadily and unremittingly. Only halfsatisfied, the jeweller went awav, to return in two hours, and to find Montin still absent. Convinced lie was at the tavern, the master charged one of his men to seek him, and induce him to return to his work. This was done, and Montin, grumbling between his teeth, quitted his comrade, and ascended to llis workshop ; but his head was nolonger clear, nor his hand steady. To add' to his trouble, the diamond became unfixed.; he seized it hastily to replace it; his trembling finger gave a jerk—and, by a strauge fatality, the precious stone flew out of the window ! Sobered in a moment by the terrible accident, Montin continued gazing out of the casement as if petrified his pale lips murmuring the words "lost! lost! lost!"

For more than an hour lie remained almost motionless, and was only roused from his lethargy by the entrance of his master. "Is it thus you work, Montin?" exclaimed he; "three times have I called for the diamond, and you spend your time injthe tavern. Give me the stone; I must have it, finished or unfinished."

Montin looked wildly at him without uttering a word. " What is the matter with, you?" asked the jeweller. "Why don't you answer ? Have you drunk all your senses away ?" The lapidary tried in yam to speak. His tongue seemed paralysed. At last he arose, and hiding liis face in his hands, murmured, •' It— is—lost!" " Explain yourself. What has happened ?" "Outoft'.te window." "What! when?" " The stone." "Well, well, well, tell me what has occurred." "The stono flew out."

It was now the turn of the master to become silent with astonishment; then, furious with rage, he cried, " I don't believe a word of your story ; you liave sold my diamond to pay for your dissipation."

Tlie accusation was the coup do grace for Montin. He fell fainting at the feet of liis master; and it was not without difficulty that he was recalled to Jife, or rather to a despair which amounted almost to madness. The jeweller, who understood what was passing in his mind, tried to console him, and at last succeeded in rendering; him more calm. "It is a most unfortunate accident, no doubt," said he, " but it is not irreparable." " iTou do not, then, believe that I sold your diamond for drink ?" said Montin, eagerly. "No, no, ATontin, you must forget what I said in the first moment of anger, and let us try to find a remedy for the misfortune. The diamond was worth £200; you must endeavour to repay me

the half of that sum out of your wages which, when you work regularly, amount to £3 or £4 a-week. "With industry and sobriety you will soon get out of the debt.'' "From this time I will work steadily," said ]M"ontin, -with tears in his eyes. " You skill see, sir, that though ~ jY, e heen a drunkard, lam not a ■ ii'' " believe you," replied the jeweller. "I have every confidence in you ; you are a good workman; I will tnrmsh you witb plenty of work, and in a .n W ,? ear ® y° u will be right again. "Well, will this suit you ?" " Oh yes, sir! only tell me once more that you do not think I sold the diamond." " I repeat on my honour, that I only said so in the first moment of anger. I am convinced that you are an honest man—in fact I prove it by trusting you with more work." "Yes, sir, that is true, and I promise you I will not disapoint you. I will repair my fault; the lesson has been severe, but it it will not be without its fruits." Montin kept his word—he rose early and worked indefatigably; the lost stone was replaced by another, which was polished as if by enchantment. Faithful to. his promise, he went no more to the tavern, and became a model of steadiness and industry. At the end of the year he had paid a considerable part of his debt. Sixteen months passed thus, when one fine morning in May, having finished his work, he placed himself at the window, and watched the boats passing and repassing on the river, which flon-ed close to the walls of the house. Suddenly, his eye was attracted by something bright glittering on the extreme edge of an old chimney. What was his surprise to discover his half polished diamond ! It seemed as if a breath would precipitate it into the water beneath ; and yet there it had been for so many months suspended between heaven and earth!

At this sight his emotion became almost as great as on the day \rken he had seen it disappear out of the window ; he dare not remove his eyes, fearing to lose sight of the almost recovered jewel. " It is—it is my diamond, which has cost me so many tears," said he. When shall I reach it! If it were to be lost. No, I will take every precaution to keep it fast! —let me censider well!"

At this moment his employer entered the room. " Oh, sir." cried Montin, "it is there!" "What?" said the jeweller. "My diamond, or rather yours. Ah, do not touch it, we shall lose it for ever." " It is true ; it is certainly the diamond that has tormented us; but the difficulty is how to get it. Wait a moment, I know how to do it." So saying, he left the room, but quickly returned, bearing in his hand a net prepared for catching butterflies. With its aid, and that of a long stick, he proceeded carefully to try and get the precious stone—Montin hardly daring to breathe, watching all his movements with the greatest anxiety. At last his efforts were crowned with success, and ho cried "Here it is, Montin! I congratulate you on its recovery. I am now your debtor to the amount of nearly a hundred pounds. What do you intend to do with the amount ?" " Leave it in your hands, sir, if you will be iind enough to keep it for me." " Most willingly ; I will pay you the interest, and if you continue to add to it, you will soon have a nice little sum," replied the jew* eller.

This was the beginning of Montin's fortune. In a few years he became partner with his master, whose daughter he married, and he is now one of the principal jewellers in Paris.