never shall forget his figure. There stood Gus, his mouth wide open, his
eyes staring, a smoking cheroot in his hand, wondering with all his might
at the strange thing that had just happened to me.

"Who _is_ that Titmarsh?" says Gus: "there's a coronet on the carriage,
by Jingo!"




CHAPTER III


HOW THE POSSESSOR OF THE DIAMOND IS WHISKED INTO A MAGNIFICENT CHARIOT,
AND HAS YET FURTHER GOOD LUCK

I sat on the back seat of the carriage, near a very nice young lady,
about my dear Mary's age--that is to say, seventeen and three-quarters;
and opposite us sat the old Countess and her other
grand-daughter--handsome too, but ten years older. I recollect I had on
that day my blue coat and brass buttons, nankeen trousers, a white sprig
waist-coat, and one of Dando's silk hats, that had just come in in the
year '22, and looked a great deal more glossy than the best beaver.

"And who was that hidjus manster"--that was the way her Ladyship
pronounced,--"that ojous vulgar wretch, with the iron heels to his boots,
and the big mouth, and the imitation goold neck-chain, who _steered_ at
us so as we got into the carriage?"

How she should have known that Gus's chain was mosaic I can't tell; but