I did not know what made him speak like this, and was not willing, even in fancy, to agree to what he counselled; for with that gem before me, lustrous, and all the brighter for lying on a rough deal table, I could only think of the wealth it was to bring to us, and how I would most certainly go back one day to Moonfleet and marry Grace.  So I never answered Elzevir, but took the diamond and slipped it back in the silver locket, which still hung round my neck, for that was the safest place for it that we could think of.

We spent some days in wandering round the town making inquiries, and learnt that most of the diamond-buyers lived near one another in a certain little street, whose name I have forgotten, but that the richest and best known of them was one Krispijn Aldobrand.  He was a Jew by birth, but had lived all his life in the Hague, and besides having bought and sold some of the finest stones, was said to ask few questions, and to trouble little whence stones came, so they were but good.  Thus, after much thought and many changes of purpose, we chose this Aldobrand, and settled we would put the matter to the touch with him.

We took an evening in late summer for our venture, and came to Aldobrand’s house about an hour before sundown.  I remember the place well, though I have not seen it for so long, and am certainly never like to see it again.  It was a low house of two stories standing back a little from the street, with some wooden palings and a grass plot before it, and a stone-flagged path leading up to the door.  The front of it was whitewashed, with green shutters, and had a shiny-leaved magnolia trained round about the windows.  These jewellers had no shops, though sometimes they set a single necklace or bracelet in a bottom window, but put up notices proclaiming their trade.  Thus there was over Aldobrand’s door a board stuck out to say that he bought and sold jewels, and would lend money on diamonds or other valuables.

A sturdy serving-man opened the door, and when he heard our business was to sell a jewel, left us in a stone-floored hall or lobby, while he went upstairs to ask whether his master would see us.  A few minutes later the stairs creaked, and Aldobrand himself came down.  He was a little wizened man with yellow skin and deep wrinkles, not less than seventy years old; and I saw he wore shoes of polished leather, silver-buckled, and tilted-heeled to add to his stature.  He began speaking to us from the landing, not coming down into the hall, but leaning over the handrail: 

’Well, my sons, what would you with me?  I hear you have a jewel to sell, but you must know I do not purchase sailors’ flotsam.  So if ’tis a moonstone or catseye, or some pin-head diamonds, keep them to make brooches for your sweethearts, for Aldobrand buys no toys like that.’

He had a thin and squeaky voice, and spoke to us in our own tongue, guessing no doubt that we were English from our faces.  ’Twas true he handled the language badly enough, yet I was glad he used it, for so I could follow all that was said.