was missing. The sweat streamed from his forehead, his clothes were
saturated, he believed himself the victim of a delusion. Calling an
assistant, every article and nook in the dark room was examined. At
last, in an extremity of despair, he sent for the solicitor, who arrived
in a breath. The jeweller's alarm hardly equalled that of the other.
In his sudden dismay, he at first forgot the circumstances and dates
relating to the affair; afterward was doubtful. The Marquis of G. was
summoned, the police called in, the jeweller given into custody. Every
breath the solicitor continued to draw only built up his ruin. He
swallowed laudanum, but, by making it an overdose, frustrated his own
design. He was assured, on his recovery, that no suspicion attached to
him. The jeweller now asseverated that the diamond had never been
given to him; but though this was strictly true, the jeweller had,
nevertheless, committed perjury. Of course, whoever had the stone would
not attempt to dispose of it at present, and, though communications were
opened with the general European police, there was very little to work
upon. But by means of this last step the former possessors became aware
of its loss, and I make no doubt had their agents abroad immediately.

Meanwhile, the case hung here, complicated and tantalizing, when one
morning I woke in London. No sooner had G. heard of my arrival than he
called, and, relating the affair, requested my assistance. I confess
myself to have been interested,--foolishly so, I thought afterward; but
we all have our weaknesses, and diamonds were mine. In company with the
Marquis, I waited upon the solicitor, who entered into the few details
minutely, calling frequently upon Ulster, a young fresh-looking man, for
corroboration. We then drove to the jeweller's new quarters, took
him, under charge of the officers, to his place of business, where he
nervously showed me every point that could bear upon the subject, and
ended by exclaiming, that he was ruined, and all for a stone he had