Max Pemberton

“ The man heard him out, his features gradually relaxing in a smile.
"Nothing could be fairer," said he; "you have only to return me the diamond."
"Ah!" exclaimed. Sir Nicolas carelessly, "I should have explained to you that we are not alone in so large a venture as this. We have others to consult, and we propose that you leave the stone with us until we have their answer."
At this request, the whole look on Lobmeyr's face changed instantly. His eyes seemed to dart fire.
"M. le Comte," said he, "I do not leave this hotel without my diamond or the money for it." ”

“ I convinced myself that you'd only got to plan the thing on a large enough scale to make a fortune. King was a millionnaire; he was in Paris; it was ten to one he would swallow a tempting bait. "If," said I, "we can buy a stone for one thousand and sell it to him for two, there's a thousand pounds. Or, again, if we can buy a stone for ten thousand and sell it to him for twenty because of the sham history we're going to make up about it—where are. we then? Why, ten thousand to the good, and nobody but a swindling old bacon merchant a penny the worse." The idea was colossal, as Sir Nicolas said. ”

“ This is what Sir Nicolas wrote after he had given twenty-four hours' thought to the matter; and I will say that there never was a man who entered into a thing more willingly, or with more spirit.
"Hildebrand," said he, "’tis the idea of a life-time, no less. There's only one corner which frightens me. Where will you be getting your diamond if King takes the bait?"
"You leave that to me, sir," said I. "It's queer if you can't buy a fifty-carat stone somewhere in Paris. And you won't buy it in your own name either. ”

“ Midnight to-morrow should see us out of Vienna."
"With ten thousand pounds in our pockets, and no harm done to any one, sir."
"The devil a bit! Oh, it was a lucky day when you told me to write the history of a diamond—that is, if Benjamin King doesn't draw back. You never know quite whether you've got a Yankee by the tail, or whether he's got you by the teeth. But I've no doubts myself but what he'll buy." ”

“ It's enough to make a man shoot himself."
"No such thing, sir," said I. "What is to be done in Paris is to be done in Vienna. For the matter of that, you'll buy the diamond easier there than here, and there won't be so much risk in taking another name. What's to stop you telling King that you also must be in Vienna, say, in a fortnight's time, and will call upon him there? The job's worth the money, any way."
Well, he thought it over, and fourteen days after this talk we found ourselves in the Austrian capital, and at Lobmeyr's shop, as I have told you. ”

“ If King came to hear, not only that you were selling diamonds, but buying them, we should have to put up the shutters."
"Ye see far," cried he; "there's few men would have planned it. Yet even now 'tis not all straight to me. You must remember that we've no credit in the place, and who'll be lending us fifty-carat diamonds on our bare word? That's what you're wanting." ”

“ He said it all very sweetly, and when he had done, and the diamond was locked up in the safe again, we arranged for him to bring it to the Hôtel Métropole on the following evening at eight o'clock, and there to ask for the Comte de Laon. Then we got out of his shop, and only when we were under the shadow of the church of St. Stephen did either of us breathe freely again.
"Well," said Sir Nicolas, speaking first, "if Count Laon ever gets to hear that I took his name in Vienna, he'll be admitting that I did him credit. Bedad! I'm just proud of myself." ”

“ I have no diamond in the house which cor- responds exactly to your description, but I have a stone weighing forty-six carats, of which there is no equal in Europe. We call it the Golden Fleece. If you will wait a moment I will show it to you."
Saying this, he swung himself round in his chair again, and opened the great safe which stood behind him. When ten seconds had passed Sir Nicolas had the diamond in his hand, and the whole room seemed full of the sparkle of its lights. ”