“Oh, yes, Hay,” I returned, in a very good humor,—­“with great success.  You have assisted me so much, that I am sure I owe it to you to say that I have found the diamond.”

“Indeed, Sir, you are very kind.  I have been interested, but my assistance is not worth mentioning.  I thought likely it might be, you appeared so quiet.”—­The cunning dog!—­“How did you find it, Sir, may I ask?”

I briefly related the leading facts, since he had been aware of the progress of the case to that point,—­without, however, mentioning Mme. de St. Cyr’s name.

“And Monsieur did not inform me!” a French valet would have cried.

“You were prudent not to mention it, Sir,” said Hay.  “These walls must have better ears than ordinary; for a family has moved in on the first floor recently, whose actions are extremely suspicious.  But is this precious affair to be seen?”

I took it from an inner pocket and displayed it, having discarded the shagreen case as inconvenient.

“His Excellency must return as he came,” said I.

Hay’s eyes sparkled.

“And do you carry it there, Sir?” he asked, with surprised, as I restored it to my waistcoat-pocket.

“I shall take it to the bank,” I said.  “I do not like the responsibility.”

“It is very unsafe,” was the warning of this cautious fellow.  “Why, Sir! any of these swells, these pickpockets, might meet you, run against you,—­so!” said Hay, suiting the action to the word, “and, with the little sharp knife concealed in just such a ring as this I wear, give a light tap, and there’s a slit in your vest, Sir, but no diamond!”—­and instantly resuming his former respectful deportment, Hay handed me my gloves and stick, and smoothed my hat.

“Nonsense!” I replied, drawing on the gloves, “I should like to see the man who could be too quick for me.  Any news from India, Hay?”

“None of consequence, Sir.  The indigo crop is said to have failed, which advances the figure of that on hand, so that one or two fortunes will be made to-day.  Your hat, Sir?—­your lunettes?  Here they are, Sir.”

“Good morning, Hay.”

“Good morning, Sir.”

I descended the stairs, buttoning my gloves, paused a moment at the door to look about, and proceeded down the street, which was not more than usually thronged.  At the bank I paused to assure myself that the diamond was safe.  My fingers caught in a singular slit.  I started.  As Hay had prophesied, there was a fine longitudinal cut in my waistcoat, but the pocket was empty.  My God! the thing was gone.  I never can forget the blank nihility of all existence that dreadful moment when I stood fumbling for what was not.  Calm as I sit here and tell of it, I vow to you a shiver courses through me at the very thought.  I had circumvented Stahl only to destroy myself.  The diamond was lost again.  My mind flew like lightning over every chance, and a thousand