something noticeable in the way of diamonds.
Aha!"

"Diamonds!" exclaimed Acon-Virlaz,
glancing towards the drawer where his jewels
were; for you may be sure he had swept
them all away into safety before his friend
had completed his entrance. "Diamonds!
Where are you going for diamonds, Ben?"

"Why, to the great fair that is held to-
morrow, Mr. Virlaz, as well you know."

"Fair, Ben? Is there any fair to-morrow
near Belleriport?"

"Why, bless my heart, Mr. Virlaz," Ben-
Daoud responded, holding up his fat hands;
"can it be that you, so respectable and noticeable
a man among our people, don't know
that to-morrow is the great jewel fair that is
held once in every hundred years, at which
diamonds, rubies, and all other pretty stones
are sold cheap—cheap as dirt, my dear—a
hundred thousand guineas-worth for sixpence,
one may say. Your grandfather must have
been there, and well he made his market,
you may be sure. Aha! Good man!"

"I never heard of such a thing," gasped
Acon-Virlaz, perfectly amazed and bewildered.
"And what do you call this fair?"

"Why, Sky Fair! As well you should
know, dear sir."

"Sky Fair?" repeated the jeweller.

"Sky Fair," answered Ben-Daoud.

"But whereabouts is it?"

"Come here," the voluble man said. He
took hold of Acon-Virlaz by the wrist, and
led him through the grove of pea-coats into
the front shop; through the front shop into
the open street; and then pointing upwards,
he directed the gaze of the Jew to where, in
the otherwise unillumined sky, there was
shining one solitary star.

"Don't it look pretty? " he asked, sinking
his voice into a confidential whisper. "Don't
it look like a diamond, and glitter and
twinkle as if some of our people the lapidaries
in Amsterdam had cut it into faces.
That's where Sky Fair is, Mr. Virlaz. Aha!"

"And you are going there to-morrow?"
Acon-Virlaz asked, glancing uneasily at his
companion.

"Of course I am," Ben-Daoud replied,
"with my little bag of money to make my
little purchases. And saving your presence,
dear sir, I think you will be a great fool if
you don't come with me, and make some little
purchases too. For, diamonds, Mr. Virlaz,
are not so easily come by every day, as in
Sky Fair; and a hundred years is a long
time to wait before one can make another
such bargain."

"I'll come, Ben," the jeweller cried, enthusiastically.
"I'll come; and if ever I can do
you any little obligation in the way of moneys,
I will." And he grasped the hand of Ben-
Daoud, who sold clocks and discounted.

"Why, that's right," the other returned.
"And I'll come for you at eight o'clock to-
morrow, punctually; so get your little bag
of money and your nightcap and a comb
ready."

"But," the jeweller asked, with one returning
tinge of suspicion, " how are we to
get there, Ben?"

"Oh," replied Mr. Ben-Daoud, coolly, "we'll
have a shay."

Sky Fair!—diamonds!—cheap bargains!
Acon Virlaz could think of nothing else all
the time of supper; which was something very
nice indeed in the fish way, and into the
cooking of which oil entered largely. He was
so preoccupied, that Mrs. Virlaz, and Miriam
his daughter, who had large eyes and a coral
necklace (for week-days), were fain to ask
him the cause thereof; and he, like a good
and tender husband and father as he was
(and as most Hebrews, to their credit, are),
told them of Ben-Daoud's marvellous story,
and of his intended journey.

The next morning, as the clock struck
eight, the sound of wheels was heard before
Acon-Virlaz's door in the Common Hard of
Belleriport, and a handful of gravel was
playfully thrown against the first-floor
window by the hands of Ben-Daoud of
Westhampton.

But it needed no gravel, no noise of wheels,
no striking of clocks, to awaken Acon-
Virlaz. He had been up and dressed since
six o'clock; and, leaving Mrs. Virlaz peacefully
and soundly sleeping; and hastily
swallowing some hot coffee prepared by
Barney the lad (to whom he issued strict
injunctions concerning the conduct of the
warehouse during the day); he descended
into the street, and was affectionately hailed
by his fellow voyager to Sky Fair.

The seller of clocks sat in the " shay " of
which he had spoken to Acon-Virlaz. It was
a dusky little concern, very loose on its
springs, and worn and rusty in its gear. As
to the animal that drew it, Mr. Ben-Daoud
mentioned by the way that it was a discount
pony; having been taken as an equivalent
for cash in numberless bills negotiated in the
Westhampton garrison, and had probably
been worth, in his time, considerably more
than his weight in gold.

Said pony, if he was a rum 'un to look at
—which, indeed, he was, being hairy where
he should have been smooth, and having
occasional bald places, as though he were in
the habit of scratching himself with his
hoofs—which hoofs, coupled with his whity-
brown ankles, gave him the appearance of
having indifferent bluchers and dirty white
socks on—was a good 'un to go. So remarkably
good was he in going, that he soon left
behind, the high street of Belleriport, where
the shop-boys were sleepily taking down the
shutters; where housemaids were painfully
elaborating the doorsteps with hearth-stones,
to be soiled by the first visitor's dirty boots
(such is the way of the world); where the
milkman was making his early morning
calls, and the night policemen were going